Does Trump Tower represent the future of urban development?

No honestly, hear us out. Image: Getty.

George Washington had Mount Vernon. Thomas Jefferson had Monticello. Now President-elect Donald Trump has his eponymous Manhattan skyscraper, Trump Tower. Our first and third presidents saw their plantations as both productive and symbolic of American identity that was rooted in the land itself. President-elect Trump looks out from his tower onto a dense, dynamic cityscape that represents American capitalism.

Washington lavished huge amounts of attention and money on building and furnishing Mount Vernon. Jefferson spent practically his entire adult life constructing, expanding and renovating Monticello. Trump Tower is loaded with polished metal and stone and clad in reflective glass. Will it stand just for the questionable taste of the one percent, or could it stimulate more creative, sustainable approaches to urban development?

Initially, this might sound far-fetched. After all, Donald Trump, during the recent presidential campaign, refuted many of the environmental movement’s tenets, most notably climate change. Commentators have worried that he will, at best, fail to provide leadership on environmental issues and, at worst, embolden polluters and climate change deniers.

But especially now that we know that Trump’s wife and son, Barron, will continue to reside in Manhattan, the president-elect is at least bringing attention to the urban tower as a residential building type. And some architects and urbanists believe that the skyscraper offers one important solution to climate issues.

Yes, building and operating tall buildings require massive amounts of energy. But skyscrapers can also provide adequate housing in high-demand areas, reduce energy use and pollution when built over transportation hubs and preserve green space and agricultural land through their relatively small footprints.

Challenges in skyscraper design

Early skyscrapers – tall office buildings erected before World War I – were less harmful to the environment than their successors.

Capitalising on a number of late 19th-century technological advances, they used iron and steel structural frames and, eventually, electric lighting and elevators. Early skyscrapers also employed “passive” (nonmechanical) methods for cooling and illumination, such as functioning windows that were deeply set into the walls so that they were shaded from the summer sun. Because they sometimes had usable roof gardens and most desks were close to windows, the first skyscrapers offered comfortable work environments while inspiring the public.

Yet skyscrapers terrified others. Many worried they would collapse. They soared over passersby, and their sheer size could be oppressive.

For designers, this created challenges. As the famed Chicago architect Louis Sullivan put it in 1896:

“How shall we impart to this sterile pile, this crude, harsh, brutal agglomeration, this stark, staring exclamation of eternal strife, the graciousness of those higher forms of sensibility and culture that rest on the lower and fiercer passions?”

Sullivan called for nothing less than imparting values to the skyscraper that were more typically attached to the home, such as beauty and tranquility. To tackle the challenge of skyscraper design, architects borrowed forms from medieval cathedrals, churches and mercantile buildings to express the dynamism of the soaring building and the metropolis surrounding it.


Besides design challenges, there have been other issues skyscrapers have had to contend with. There’s the fire danger they pose, since their height far exceeds that of the tallest firetruck ladder. As it became common in the post-war period to clad skyscrapers completely in glass, they required huge amounts of energy to heat and cool. And on 9/11, terrorism became a new, hitherto unimaginable consequence of skyscraper building.

Despite their drawbacks, skyscrapers embody the excitement of urban life, a quality that artist John Marin captured in his prints and watercolors of the Woolworth Building in 1913. Tall office buildings also encourage efficiency and productivity by putting workers in proximity to one another. Residential skyscrapers cut down on commute times and urban sprawl. And as designers are now demonstrating, skyscrapers have the potential not only to generate their own power but to contribute to the power supply of cities.

For these reasons, the skyscraper is here to stay. Of the 78 1,000-foot-plus skyscrapers in the world, 58 were built since 2000.

Of these, only four are in the U.S., where the Great Recession and the collapse of the real estate market slowed their construction. Nonetheless, one of the four – One World Trade Center – was named one of the world’s “Best Tall Buildings” by the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat in 2015. Also topping the list are Milan’s Bosco Verticale and the Burj Mohammed Bin Rashid Tower in Abu Dhabi.

The Skyscraper Museum in New York City has even charted the recent spread of the Super-Slenders: tall and slim apartment buildings that fit onto tight urban plots to offer fabulous views.

New directions

Some of the most unique advances in skyscraper construction come from the use of a “new” material: wood.

Wood may offer several advantages over metal construction. Most notably, it’s a renewable material. And new ways of engineering wood, like laminating it, also promise to make it as durable and strong as steel and lighter than concrete, which makes it less expensive to transport to building sites. Proponents of wood argue that substantial timber construction is actually more fire resistant than steel.

Today fantastic wood skyscraper projects abound, including a 100-story tower for London nicknamed “The Splinter.” The tallest wood building in the world, the Brock Commons at the University of British Columbia rises 18 stories and is set for completion in May 2017.

While wood-based skyscraper projects attempt to reduce the energy used for skyscraper construction, other projects seek to reduce the energy used to heat and cool tall buildings.

The Pearl River Tower (left): surprising environmentally friendly. Image: Getty.

For example, the Pearl River Tower in Guangzhou, China, is shaped so that the winds swirling around it churn two turbines that produce energy for the building.

Making a tower an energy producer is one way of dealing with the excessive energy consumption – always a concern with skyscrapers. The Gensler architecture firm’s Tower at PNC Plaza in Pittsburgh, completed last year, confronted this challenge. Among its green innovations is the tower’s “breathing” façade, a system that uses outside air to heat and cool the building – unlike the sealed skyscrapers of the mid-20th century that shut out the natural environment.

Trump Tower, with its gaudy use of expensive materials, represents the skyscraper’s dilemma. If it can be made energy efficient, then it may provide sustainable living and working space for urbanites who will be able to avoid lengthy, polluting car commutes, as well as urban sprawl. But it can be more than a lofty perch for the rich to conduct business or live glamorously only once its manifest environmental drawbacks are addressed. The Conversation

Kevin D. Murphy is Andrew W Mellon Chair in the Humanities and professor and chair of history of art at Vanderbilt University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

 
 
 
 

What would an extended Glasgow Subway look like?

West Street station. Image: Finlay McWalter/Wikimedia Commons.

There are many notable things about Glasgow’s historic Subway.

It is the third oldest in the world. It is the only one in the UK that runs entirely underground. It runs on a rare 4ft gauge. For reasons passing human understanding, it shuts at teatime on a Sunday.

But more significantly, it’s the only metro system never to have been expanded since its original development. A couple of stations have come and gone in the 122 years since the Subway opened (and promptly shut again following a serious accident before the first day was out). But Glasgow’s Subway has remained a frustratingly closed loop. Indeed, while a Scottish newspaper recently estimated there have been more than 50 proposed new stations for Glasgow's iconic Subway since it first opened, all we’ve had are a couple of replacements for closed stops. 

The original route map. Image: SPT.

It’s not for a lack of trying, or at the least discussion. Glasgow’s SNP-led council pledged a major expansion of the Subway as part of their election pledge last year, for example, vowing to find the funding to take the network beyond the existing route.

All this sounds very familiar, of course. A decade ago, with the 2014 Commonwealth Games in mind, operators SPT began looking into a near-£3bn expansion of the Subway into the East End of the city, primarily to serve the new Velodrome complex and Celtic Park.

In the end, the plans — like so many discussed for expanding the Subway – failed to materialised, despite then SPT chairman Alistair Watson claiming at the time: “We will deliver the East End extension for 2014. I am being unequivocal about that.”

As detailed previously on CityMetric, that extension would have seen seven new stations being opened along a second, eastern-centric loop, crossing over with the original Subway at two city centre sites. Had that gone ahead, we would by now have had a new route looking something like this:

The 2007 proposals for an eastern circle. Image: Iain Hepburn.

St Mungo’s would have been close to Glasgow Cathedral. Onslow, presumably located on or near Onslow Drive, would have principally served Dennistoun, as would have a link-up with the existing Duke St overground station.

Gorbals, benefiting from the ongoing redevelopment and residential expansion that’s all but erased it’s No Mean City reputation, would have gained a station, while Newhall would have been next to Glasgow Green. Dalmarnock station would, like Duke Street, become an interchange with Scotrail’s services, while crucially Celtic Park would have gained the final stop, serving both the football stadium, the nearby Emirates Arena and velodrome, and the Forge shopping centre.


Those plans, though, were drawn up more than a decade ago. And if the SNP administration is serious about looking again at the expansion of the Subway, then there’s more than a few changes needing made to those plans.

For starters, one stop at the far end of the loop serving Celtic, the new sports arenas and the Forge feels a bit like underselling the area, particularly with so much new residential development nearby.

Two feels more realistic: one serving the Forge and the rest of Dennistoun, and the other sited on London Road to serve the mass volumes of football and sports traffic. And if Ibrox can have a stop, then it seems churlish not to give the other of the Old Firm clubs their own named halt.

That’s another thing. The naming of the proposed stations is… arbitrary, to say the least. You’d struggle to find many Glaswegians who’d immediately identify where Newhall or Onslow were, off the top of their head. 

The former, especially, seems like there’s a more natural alternative name, Glasgow Green; while the latter, with a second Forge stop also serving Dennistoun, would perhaps benefit from named for the nearby Alexandra Place and park.

(Actually, if we’re renaming stations from their unlikely original choices, let’s say goodbye Hillhead and a big hiya to Byres Road on the original Subway while we’re at it…)

So, what would a realistic, 2017-developed version of that original 2007 proposal give us? Probably something like this:

Better. Image: Iain Hepburn.

One glaring issue with the original 2007 study was the crossover with the… let’s call it the Western Subway. The original proposal had St Enoch and Buchanan St as the crossover points, meaning that, if you wanted to go out east from, say, the Shields Road park and ride, you had to go into town and double back. 

Using Bridge Street as a third interchange feels a more realistic, and sensible, approach to alleviating city centre crowding and making the journey convenient for folk travelling directly from west to east.

There’s a good case to be made for another south east of the river station, depending on where the Gorbals stop is sited. But these are austere times and with the cost of the expansion now likely more than £5bn at current rates, an expanded Bridge Street would do much of that legwork.

Putting all that together, you’d end up with something looking like this:

 

Ooooh. Image: Iain Hepburn.

Ahead of last year’s election, SNP councillor Kenny McLean vowed the party “[would] look at possible extension of the Subway and consider innovative funding methods, such as City Bonds, to fund this work. The subway is over 120 years old. It is high time that we look to connect communities in the north and east of Glasgow.”

Whether Glasgow could raise the £5bn it would probably need to make the 2007 proposal, or an updated variation of it remains, to be seen. And this still doesn’t solve how many places are left off the system. While a line all the way out to Glasgow Airport is unrealistic – after all, an overground rail service to the airport from Paisley has failed to materialise after 30 years of discussion and planning – there’s plenty of places in the city not well served by the Subway, from Maryhill in the north to Hampden in the south, or the riverside developments that have seen flats replace factories and new media hubs, museums and hotels line the Clyde.


Image: Iain Hepburn.

Key city landmarks like the Barrowlands, the Riverside Museum – with its own, fake, vintage subway stop, or the Merchant City are woefully underserved by the subway. But their incorporation – or connection with a Glasgow Crossrail – seems a very expensive pipe dream.

Instead, two adjoining loops, one to Ibrox and one to Celtic Park, seems the most plausible future for an extended Subway. At least colour coding the lines would be easy…

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