WHAT IS A PLACE TO YOU?
WORDS & IMAGES Alistair Newsome
1st Year
What
is a place to you? Maybe the answer is just a fleeting mental image or
feeling associated with a certain place and time. Can’t quite put your
finger on it? That’s because you’re trying to define something ephemeral
and elusive that changes depending on context; who’s asking, why and
when. Placemaking requires context and history to combine. Something has
always shaped the way we respond to a particular space and that
something can only be experience. Experience as an individual or as a
collective or community. Perhaps it’s something you touched or were
physically involved in or something you read or observed. As humans we
rely on this experience, or memory, to shape who we are.
How
as landscape architects, can we begin to unlock that network of shared
and individual responses to create a common vision of something that
reflects what resides within this myriad of people who are involved in
and connected to a placemaking project? Such a network has no physical
boundaries or definition. When we engage in placemaking we are
attempting to harness what has gone before along with the future
aspiration of the landscape stakeholders to design a new history.
Or
should we really Design? Every place has a history before we start any
investigation or design, it already exists. We can’t change that, we can
reinterpret it but we can’t change it. Once we have made a place it has
a renewed history and narrative. So perhaps the answer for designers is
to interpret a narrative rather than to design a finished product.
A
place might be a grand central area, pivotal to the lives of thousands
of people or it might be extremely modest in terms of present usage or
past intervention; but it still has a history and it has it for a
reason. It may be a history of human success or failure, of good or bad
decisions, neglect, change or transience, little or no human
intervention at all. All of these are distinct in the designers’
palette; they all imbue each site with a unique set of responsibilities
for any designer in order to make it a place. To shape and sculpt a site
without simply imposing design or designing on the residents, visitors
or the landscape itself is far from straightforward it is the key to
successful placemaking.
In
the case of Oratia Reserve who could, or should, have input and why?
What does this place mean to those involved? What has defined Oratia as a
space up until now and how can we hone that definition going forward?
Undoubtedly
a place that still enjoys a link to its early colonisation by Croatians
and those from Victorian Britain, today Oratia could arguably be viewed
as a bridging point, both physically and metaphorically, between many
disparate entities; east and west Auckland, urban and rural, historical
colonial and modern multicultural, C19th Europe and C21st Pacific – the
crossing point between a modern city and a wilderness.
In
terms of physicality, on one side the site borders Auckland’s western
suburbs and the other side plunges almost straight away into rain forest
and Piha. So which wins? Or, perhaps more prosaically, how do we meld
the two? A central tenet of contemporary placemaking is arguably the
bottom up approach of involving and consulting the local people, who,
unsurprisingly in the case of Oratia have expressed a multitude of
sometimes conflicting needs and desires.
As
Joan Clos i Matheu stated “the value of the public good affects the
value of the private good” and in the case of Oratia Reserve the
narrative is arguably even more complex. Oratia Reserve is a public
space but it’s more intimate than that, it’s a very local public space,
it doesn’t necessarily belong to Auckland as a whole. There needs to be
consideration given to an inner Oratia and outer Oratia within the
space. The two elements need to be constructed to complement each other,
to compete but not to dominate each other. Auckland needs to be kept at
bay to some extent, or at least kept under control in order to allow
some of the bucolic charm to remain. The same can be said of the
Waitakere Ranges; we can’t deny the relevance of Oratia’s urban fringe
location in favour of an idealised notion of untamed forest or coast
taking precedence over human need. The reserve must have seating; it
must have the apparatus of human presence, food, warmth, shade, comfort,
community. It must accommodate activity in all seasons.
If
we can approach a site like Oratia armed with a comprehensive
understanding of the experience and memory of the site and of the people
linked to it we will continue to act imperfectly but hopefully with a
broader and deeper sense of responsibility to process and drive
placemaking in a responsible, sustainable way that doesn’t simply add a
veneer of design to a place, but one which makes a genuine attempt to
get under the skin of the site, and of the community in a positive and
meaningful way.
The idea of placemaking is still used as a tool that reflects how we view ourselves as a society and a culture. It can still be a reflection of contemporary and to some extent mainstream social ideology because that is in itself a reflection of what we collectively hold dear and true as a society; our shared experience. To consider any site such as Oratia from the point of view of memory or shared experience “raises issues and questions that are not merely architectural but also moral, ethical, and philosophical” and requires the design approach to be centred around “unveiling—uncovering as well as anchoring—histories and memories”.
Previous
governments may not, and indeed did not, value landscape or legislate
in the same way as we would expect our current and future governments
to. Effective and sustainable land management, urban redevelopment and
heritage planning are obvious examples of where publicly accepted wisdom
is vastly different from one generation, or government, to the next.
Certainly now a ‘bottom up’ approach of public consultation and
involvement in placemaking alongside legislative bodies and government
gives more credence to the legitimacy and driving force of participatory
design. As we involve the local community throughout the process of
placemaking, however, the danger is always in not interpreting their
collective narrative properly.
Arguably
the success or failure of a placemaking project “arises from its
capacity for establishing dialogues with, and presenting questions about
the past (and the future)”. Sometimes the discussion is enough to
achieve something in terms of community engagement. To plan for months,
years, even decades gives a project its own shape and life. As part of
this process we may ask ourselves what are the prevailing ideas or ethos
regarding placemaking, what environmental or cultural issues draw us to
certain conclusions at any given time? These will change, they always
do. People change, political ideology changes, memories change,
landscapes change.
PROCESS AND HEALING
WORDS & IMAGES Natalie Couch
1st Year
I
saw this site as having a strong presence of European settlement and
the powhiri process seemed appropriate as a framework for design here,
as its purpose is to bring people together. It would also acknowledge
the presence of Te Kawerau a Maki, and would identify their mana whenua
(guardianship and genealogical connection), as well as providing an
inclusive and enriching experience for the present day inhabitants, most
of whom may not have experienced a powhiri (formal welcoming). It
seemed appropriate too that this would occur here; a gateway to the
ranges, the sea and the many significant and sacred sites the local Iwi
hold close.
I
am particularly interested in the potential of the “medicinal grove” of
native plants that can rehabilitate land and people in tandem. Land was
often a cause for clients requiring healing, yet the land itself often
required healing not necessarily separately from the clients healing.
This
draws a direct link between the landscape and the health of the people
culturally associated with it. I believe it is by experiencing
processes and ceremonies such as these that more understanding and
respect will be fostered between Maori and Pakeha, and these
relationships will be nurtured and developed.
ORATIA
WORDS & IMAGE Luke Veldhuizen
1st Year
Oratia's heart and soul is in its food.
Consider its crops, farmers market, wine, its history and connection with the
land.
Faced with the problem of declining bee
populations, I designed a solution which would boost bee numbers, in turn
benefitting the region.
Hexavalent paths enclosing bee-friendly
plantings were my key design move, with community beehives installed at the north-western
end, sheltered from the wind and close to the water.
By having the school situated across the
road from the site, the children will gain an education in bees and in return Oratia's future is strengthened.
