Serenity...in the Least Likely Location

What’s the least likely place for a park that you can imagine?

Next to a busy freeway perhaps? On top of a rubbish dump?

How about next door to a sewage treatment plant?

The Newtown Creek Nature Walk in Brooklyn not only ekes out a sliver of public access to a contested waterfront, but brings visitors face-to-face with the biggest sewage treatment plant in New York City.

George Trakas was engaged to bring an artful approach to developing the nature walk.  A distinguished artist with significant experience working in complex waterfront sites, Trakas has twice received National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and is a medal winner for sculpture from the American Society of Arts and Letters, which honoured his unique “vision of landscape”.

Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant is a dramatic and exciting assembly of pipes and tubes and shiny things, lit an otherwordly purple at night, and all dominated by four enormous pieces of industrial-Faberge-chic. These are the symbolic and literal centrepiece of the plant: referred to in the industry as ‘digestor eggs’ this is where the business end of sewage treatment takes place.  They loom over the waterway, linked together at the top with a glass-walled walkway, like a setting from Metropolis, or Gattaca, and the public applies in droves to see the eggs up close whenever the plant advertises tours.

Image by joevar. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-ND 2.0). Retrieved from http://www.flickr.com/photos/57462257@N00/4006853382/in/photolist-775aV1-775aME-7758U7-775bso-775867-775ba3-771c1n-771eAv-771gYz-771cfX-771eVX-7758p9-771dFX

If the treatment plant looks like a vision from the future, the park opposite references a time past, one where Newtown Creek flowed fresh and clear, as it did when the indigenous Lenape people made their home here.  Trakas’s artwork is multilayered and comprehensive.  Particular plant species were chosen for their cultural or historic significance, which is relayed on small plaques. 

Other interpretive signage informs visitors that rubbish bins are made in the shape of old water barrels, steps down to the water reference geological epochs... 

...as do rocks placed amongst the planting.

Newtown Creek Nature Walk is tough and robust, like the gritty waterfront precinct it fronts.  Yes, there are some trees in place now, but the overwhelming view is of industry:  big barges with cranes on them moving crushed up metal onto smaller barges with old tyres round their waterlines; big light towers, the undersides of big bridges, big billboards, big warehouse buildings - everything big and muscular. 

The detailing of the Nature Walk responds to this muscularity, with big concrete steps, sheet piling and massive bench seats. 

Within this tough exoskeleton, moments of delight are to be found.  A circular gathering point invites groups to stop by the edge...

...planting creates tall green tunnels...

...and flowers and foliage appear more brilliant against the grey stone and concrete. 

Retracing their path to the entry visitors pass through the swollen concrete walls of George Trakas’s 51 metre-long Vessel. Holes punched through the walls allow glimpses of the mechanical equipment and processes going on behind. The view straight down the centre of Vessel aligns with the Empire State Building, seemingly a world away from the unexpected tranquillity of this park-like space next to the sewage treatment plant. 

Now it’s over to you.

What do you think of the idea of public parkland in such an unusual location? Do you think the artistic overlay has resulted in a more engaging space? Leave a comment below letting me know.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back soon for more from the wonderful world of parks, gardens and landscapes.

Details

This article is an edited extract from my book Future Park: imagining tomorrow’s urban parks, released this September by CSIRO Publishing.

The Newtown Creek Alliance is a "community-based organisation dedicated to restoring, revealing, and revitalising Newtown Creek".

The Visitor Centre at the  Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant is open by appointment.

The Treatment Plant was open as a part of Open House New York 2012.  Listings for OHNY 2013 will be released at the start of October.

Delight: the magpie nest

Sharp-eyed observers may have noticed the jumble of wire and sticks keeping me company on my Twitter feed.

The jumble is, in fact, the crown jewel in my small but treasured collection of birds' nests.

(Before you start panicking, no innocent avian families were evicted to fuel my curiosity. All the nests I've collected have been found long-abandoned, usually dislodged from trees during storms.)

The magpie nest is no exception.  It came to ground in a park close to Landscapology HQ during a skull-rattling thunderstorm at the end of last year, along with several trees, many branches, and a potentially lethal confetti of Kauri Pine cones.

The Australian Magpie (Cracticus tibicen) is a handsome birdy, dressed and ready for the ball in glossy black and white plumage.

Image credit: John O'Neill, Wikimedia Commons, released under GNU Free Documentation License Version 1.2 http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6e/Australian_Magpie_2%2C_jjron%2C_5.07.10.jpg

Magpies build up their flat, shallow nests in layers - generally tough on the outside and softer in the centre - using sticks, twigs, grass and hair.

In urban environments, human-made materials are often found, such as the wire in this nest. 

Even when this is the case, the heavier gauges are still found on the outside, in this case forming a strong triangular armature for the rest of the nest, with the finer wires closer to the top and centre.

The strength of the magpie's beak is evident when you realise just how substantial some of these wires are: this is no unfurled paperclip we're talking about, the base wires here are twice the thickness of a dry cleaner's wire hanger.  Those same beaks have then also placed the flimsiest fibres just so.

This nest holds a special place in my heart for the way it seamlessly weaves together the natural and the artificial - the landscape and the architecture, if you will - to create something of create strength, adaptability and beauty.

Things Are Peachy on the Bluewater Trail

Mackay, on the central Queensland coast, was once home to a woman, the wife of a manager of a sugarcane mill, who became so famous she had a dessert named after her.

Admittedly this is an unusual way to honour outstanding achievement, but then Dame Nellie Melba was no ordinary mill manager’s wife. Today Nellie Melba would not recognise the city where she once escaped the sweltering heat with musical gatherings at the School of Arts.

One thing she may enjoy though, is taking a gentle turn around the terrific Bluewater Trail.

Trail signage utilising salvaged wharf timber

In the past decade Mackay Regional Council has invested heavily in its Bluewater Trail. This multi-million dollar network is a remarkable linkage park, connecting people both back to and along a vast length of the Pioneer River from the Botanic Gardens to the rivermouth.

Sugar mill on the horizon - seen from the trail at the Botanic Gardens.

On an average winter weekend families cycle, kids and dogs in tow, shopping is transported, and fishing spots are crammed along the western segment of the Trail.

Crossing low-lying areas of the river plain.

Heading for the Catherine Freeman walk, named in honour of the Mackay-born athlete, gold medal winner at the 2000 Sydney Olympics.

This part of the former Hospital Bridge was retained as a fishing platform when the new bridge was built.

Midweek, the bluewater sparkles for tourists, mums and kids, more fishermen, and workers enjoying a quiet lunch beside the river on the Bluewater Quay precinct, through the city centre and beyond.

New inner-city fishing platform.

There are six distinct trail precincts: the Mackay Regional Botanic Gardens, Sandfly Creek Environmental walkway, Catherine Freeman walk, the free (and instantly popular) Bluewater swimming lagoon swimming, Bluewater Quay Public Open Space and Iluka Park.

The trail passes through the Botanic Gardens, at the edge of the lagoons.

Winter grevilleas.

Only west-facing ducks need apply...

Cascade at the Botanic Gardens.

Each has its own defining character.  Some areas focus on lush vegetation with very simple sweeping pathways. 

Others boast impressive public art installations.

Fishbones, by Fiona Foley, marks the start of the wharf precinct.

Sugar Cubes, by Fiona Foley, interprets the complex history of the district sugar industry.

Thumbprints are from the descendents of South Sea Islanders brought to Australia to work in the cane fields. The names of transporting ships appear on each 'sugar cube'.

Fiona Foley's Mangrove Cap, at the end of the trail.

Mangrove Cap, by Fiona Foley

Check it out in winter, when the days are clear and fresh.  In summer, when you feel like flaying off your own skin to escape the unrelenting humidity, seek out a shady spot, catch the afternoon breeze, and head home after for a treat of tinned peaches and ice cream.  Yum yum. Dame Nellie would be jealous.

Now it’s over to you.

What did you think of the Bluewater Trail? Is there an aspect of the park you’d most like to check out in person? Leave a comment below letting me know.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back in a fortnight, when we'll be visiting a park with great lessons for home gardens and landscapes.

(pssst: Bluewater Trail is featured in my book. Check it out for more schweet Linkage Parks).

Design Class: learning to love the scale

Have you ever had a designer ask what you think of the scale? Has it given you pause for concern, filling your mind with dread at the thought that last night’s seven course degustation with matching wine flight is already showing round your middle?

Fear not.

The type of scale we’re talking about here is nowhere near as scary as the ‘number-climbing-higher’ machines that we keep hidden in the bathroom so they don’t steal our will to live.

This type of scale should be treated with respect though, as it also has the ability to make you feel either very comfortable or very uncomfortable in a space.

Scale describes how something – a building, chair, tree, sculpture - sits in relation to its context. Something is called ‘out of scale’ when it’s perceived to be either too big or too small for its location, causing the overall effect to appear out of balance.

Let’s say you were considering adding a fountain of some sort to your courtyard garden, fed from recycled water you’d collected. Here’s your garden now…

...and here are two options for your fountain.

Option 1: 

...and Option 2:

What do you think?

You might feel that the first fountain is ‘out of scale’ because it is too small, and barely draws attention to itself.

You might also feel that the second fountain is also ‘out of scale’, this time for being too big, overwhelming the space and threatening to drench you whenever you walk past.

The right scale fountain for your garden is probably somewhere in between the two.

What happens though, if you quite like the dramatic effect of that great big fountain?

Is it OK to play around with scale?

Sure, if that helps you create the effect you’re after.

Say you spend a lot of time reading in the garden and drinking cups of tea – it’s what you do to relax.

You might deliberately choose to have an over-size (‘out of scale’) garden chair to celebrate your favourite thing.

Scale is one of the many Spatial Qualities you have available to create the house, garden, park or city you love.

Once you start noticing the scale of different elements and spaces, you’ll feel clearer about what you consider to be 'in' or 'out' of scale, and can more confidently engage in the design process for your project.

Now it’s over to you.

Have you ever visited a place (maybe a garden or a park) and noticed that one or more elements was out of scale? How did this affect your experience and what do you think would have improved it?

Let me know in the comments section.

Of course, if you found this interesting and useful don’t forget to share with a friend, and I’ll see you soon for more Design 101.

A Choice Day out at the Auckland Waterfront

How much do we love New Zealand, huh? If you’ve ever spent a lazy Saturday enjoying Auckland’s waterfront before the realities of winter set in, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was the slice of heaven Dave Dobbyn was singing about, not some pouty chick...or Footrot Flats. (Go on, listen to it.  Nothing better than a bit of da-da-da to put you in a good mood)

I enjoyed just such a day in mid-April, at the end of the brilliant IFLA landscape conference and Gibbs Farm sculpture park field trip.  Judging from the crowds, about half of Auckland had the same idea.

Auckland has one of the kick-ass-est harbours in the whole world, and sailing seems to be a compulsory activity. Boats from all round the globe cosy up to each other in the berths. Just how sassy is Janice of Wyoming?

You can easily walk to the waterfront from the downtown area. If you’re coming from further afield the main Britomart train and bus station is just on the water’s edge. And if you’re heading for one of the harbour islands, this is the place to catch the ferry.

Auckland city was born at the waterfront in 1840. For a long time before that, the harbour was a vital, sacred part of Maori life. In recent years, spurred by hosting the 2000 America’s Cup and the 2011 Rugby World Cup, the working harbour has been gradually inviting the public back in. You can read more about the redevelopment, including the different precincts (Wynyard Quarter, North Wharf, Karanga Plaza, Silo Park and more) on the Waterfront Auckland website.

Here are my favourite moments: 

1. Lay out the Welcome Mat

This supergraphic barcode helps pedestrians navigate two carparks connected by an operating bascule bridge on their way to Wynyard Quarter.

2. Pop-up Library

Here, another welcome mat is laid out. This time it’s artificial turf that marks a little gathering spot in front of a shipping container library. Lilliputian furniture can be moved around to suit the sun.

3. Containers

Why stop at just one. The information kiosk deftly stacks containers into a sculptural heap to anchor one corner of Karanga Plaza. The public loos are here too, and it makes a natural backdrop for events and performances. The day I visited there was a piano in the plaza (tick!) and students played all day to advertise an upcoming concert. Special mention should also go to the superbly attired lady whose fabulous orange trousers hit just the right note beside the containers.  Respect.

4.  Different Types of Seats

Sometime different types of furniture can make a place look untidy and feel disjointed. That doesn’t seem to be the case here, maybe because the bridge crossings, changing path widths and varying neighbours make each of the precincts along the waterfront feel different anyway.

The seats in Karanga Plaza roll back and forth on rails. They’re also great if you and your friends can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.  The seats along North Wharf look like miniature versions of the piled-up shipping containers.  The seats outside the Viaduct Event Centre are bar stool height, behind a long concrete counter.

5.  Oasis

At the end of North Wharf, before it erupts into a giant playspace, is this quiet pocket with places to sit out of the hustle and bustle.

6.  Playtime on Steroids

Pros: This massive wonderland of play imagines what this part of the sea was once like. Giant shells, barnacles and other creatures can be climbed over, sat on or spun around and around. There’s also nets and swingy things, a vast bed of sand and a low wall of stones for practicing clambering and balancing. At the end of the play area is the sculpture Wind Tree, relocated from its former city home to a new shallow reflecting pond.  It doesn’t take much grey matter to figure out that this also attracts kids like crazy.

Cons: it’s so big because this is apparently a future development site. Let’s hope some place for play remains and it doesn’t all turn into a dreary, but revenue-generating, 9-5 office building.

7. Sexy Water Management

This is not just some pretty planting behind the containers, although it does look great.  Look closely and you can see that the planting beds are set down below the paving.  This allows water to run off into the planting where it’s filtered and cleansed before going back into the harbour.

The same thing happens at Silo Park at a much bigger scale. Stormwater runoff here is directed into a long linear channel, densely planted again, and criss-crossed with paths.

8.  Working

I love most about this part of Auckland’s waterfront is that it’s very much a working harbour.  The navy occupies a vast land holding to the east, and there is an gigantic shrink-wrapped vessel being repaired down near Silo Park. All very cloak-and-dagger.

Whilst disused silos form the backdrop to Silo Park, the silos of the bulk storage facility dominate the scene.  Some are painted and act as huge sculptural installations behind the gantry.

These sites operate around-the-clock, constantly bringing life, activity and people to the waterfront.

It’s a delicate balance, essential to get right, but for me it would be disastrous if all of this stretch of harbourfront was ‘cleaned up’ and industrial activities moved on to somewhere ‘out of sight’.

9.  Gantry

This 12m high, 110m long structure was built to 'screen' the bulk storage tanks behind.  Climb to the top and you'll get a great view into this part of the harbour that I find just as interesting as the parks and promenades, maybe more so.

It also reveals long views back towards the city, and along the entire waterfront public places, and is a perfect spot to watch life unfold.

10.  Weddings, Parties, Anything

The waterfront is a go-to place for quality Auckland people-watching and overheard conversations:

“I never knew this place was ****ing here, bro.”

“I know, bro.”

In just a few hours I saw plenty of tourists, but also locals who’d come down for a function, a wedding party having photographs taken, kids riding bikes, people running and exercising, those who’d brought their lunch with them, those who were headed for a restaurant, and those who were lining up for a pie or a coffee or a smoothie to have while sprawling at the picnic tables or on the lawn. Little kids were in the playground, bigger kids were at the basketball court.  The temporary summertime stalls were busy and the summer movie nights were still being advertised. Students lounged, couples canoodled, and the blue sky hung on as long as it could overhead.

And that’s the secret to great public space – enabling all different types of people feel welcome.

What do you think? If you’ve visited the Auckland Waterfront recently how did you find it? Leave a comment below letting me know what you liked best.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back soon for more from the wonderful world of parks, gardens and landscapes.

Delight: the girl in pink

This week we’re trialling a new addition to the Landscapology blog.

Delight will be an occasional post featuring something curious and delightful that doesn’t really fit within our regular Design 101 sessions or stories about great parks, gardens and landscapes.

Today is the wonderful girl in pink, who emerged out of a compound of small stone buildings beside the Karakorum Highway, high in the mountains of western China, and quietly walked over to watch our bus roll past, with its cargo of Silk Road tourists.

When it’s been raining for a long time, and the sky is grey, I often think of how strikingly she commanded attention in that clear, cold, breathtaking and harsh landscape.