Buddhist Barn on Broadway

Sacramento's 16th Street light rail station is closed this week for a remodel - so I'm walking to work mornings from the Broadway station and back in the evening. Entering the station tonight I noticed a Buddhist temple sensibility.



Suddenly, like the Zen image of a ball floating in a mountain stream, came the train.

Welcome Home, Suburbanite!

People like to dump on the suburbs for bad design. But I still like how big master-planned communities within a couple miles of my house welcome their residents back home after a hard day's work at the high-rise downtown.

Their grand entryways appear through the windshield like a mother's arms, welcoming back commuters with fountains, bridges, palm trees and the green grass of home.
















Both sides of this entryway have broad expanses of grass, pools and fountains that are lit at night. Drivers cross a bridge designed to look old, then come upon a lush median island that separates lanes of traffic and creates a parkway feeling. This is especially beautiful in the early morning and late evening light, the time of departures and arrivals.

Here's more architectural entryway features and landscaping. Nothing heroic. But down to earth good taste.




Finally, this is not just about cars. There's a nice small sense of arrival when you're on foot, too. Here's a couple examples of "come-on-in" design at a pedestrian scale:



Across the years I've heard friends say that life should be like a musical, with people spontaneously bursting into song and dancing on the hoods of their cars at intersections. I think life should happen in magnificent beautiful settings that feel special and treat us like tourists in our own towns. These small places close to home often give me that feeling.

Hong Kong: Sheer Vertical Forest

(Note: This was shot on a Sunday morning in late April 2010 from 28th floor of Hotel Jen, 508 Queen's Road West,
Western District).

Dear reader, I confess to a momentary pang of terror when I was invited recently into an East-West Center journalism fellowship that included four days in Hong Kong. What provoked this fear was the crowded Asian density of it all: New York City times 20 in terms of sheer vertical forest. I am not acclimated day in and out to such heights and crowds. I live in a medium-sized California metro of mid-rise dwellings and single-family detached houses. I had visions of claustrophobia attacks inside crowded urban scenes like this:



I arrived at Hong Kong International Airport at midnight, however, and saw the immense skyline first at night. It was such a lovely arrival, floating by freeway past the giant port facilities and through varying landscapes of lighted residential towers. Surprisingly, after getting oriented the first day by peering out from the roof of the hotel, it was a stunningly easy city to trek. I walked and walked for hours that Sunday, seeing the shops, farmers markets and restaurants on the ground floors of these endless 20- to 40-story buildings. Even the senior citizens' homes have your grandparents living on the 38th floor in endless buildings like this below. I have to say: I do not envision this as ideal retirement.




Yet strolling the city revealed lots of small green pocket parks and nice design touches as this below - street planters filled in this instance with pink Vincas - to help break up its endless asphalt and concrete:





I admit to arriving in Hong Kong a bit clueless about actual standout buildings, most of them banks. I have been trying to identify this building below with the ball on top, so far without luck. Anyone know? I am also trying to identify the building across Kowloon Bay - and will resume efforts when I get this posted.



The International Finance Center is one of those standouts, along with the Bank of China and Hongkong and Shanghai Bank Corp. (HSBC). You can see the IFC in the distance up this street.





I sure did enjoy design trekking that city. It would take days and weeks to see all the high points. I didn't see the skyline from the Star Ferry. Nor did I see the skyline spectacularly lit up at night. We spent most of our time at the University of Hong Kong attending a three-day conference. I'd like to come back.

Lastly, here are two short street-scene video from the bus (downhill from UHK back to the central city).

White Picket Fences: The Timeless Allure of Home

If you have ever seen a World War II movie where the soldier comes home at last with all the emotion that entails - what does the house always have?

A white picket fence.



In the United States some design elements just roar with symbolism and communicate larger themes across generations. They are icons that strike deep in the American pscyhe. So it is with the white picket fence.

I wish I had one. It's American Ideal, especially when combined with older houses and leafy streets. I see this house often on lunch-time walks in Midtown Sacramento. The only thing better would be if it had a bigger yard.



Google "white picket fence" in Google images for a treasure trove of what makes you feel good. Check out this photo site of white picket fence images. Here is a pretty good try at explaining the historical resonance.

For members of my generation the WPF means Donna Reed and Leave It To Beaver - perfect, idyllic, pastoral. I'm not sure either of those TV families had a WPF, but the Partridge Family did. So did Steve Martin in "Father of the Bride."

It's no accident that new urbanist communities like Seaside, Fla. require white picket fences as boundary markers. We have a Cape Cod-style 1980s development in Sacramento, Heritage Wood Circle, that requires white picket fences. It's a beautiful neighborhood.

Mock if you must. But I trust your soul wishes you lived here below, were eating warm chocolate chip cookies served by your mom and starting your 8th grade homework (which will receive five gold stars and A+, of course).



Here are three more picket fences in Midtown Sacramento:








Symbolism, symbolism below - even in a small way in a tiny part of the yard. Here are California poppies behind a (plastic, miniature) white picket fence. I found this in my suburban neighborhood on a Sunday morning while walking with coffee).

Rural Geometry of New-Mown Hay

My wife and I, driving yesterday morning through southern Sacramento County, passed one of the most beautiful sights of farm country - spring fields of fresh-cut hay near Interstate 5. I love the smell that goes with these photos. I grew up on a farm in Northwest Ohio, where new-mown hay was the best smell on earth. I like the visual order in rows of bales in a green or straw-colored field.

Once more, tricked up a little in black and white, like some weird Stonehenge:

High Above The World In Taipei 101

I am afraid of heights. Yet, from the time I saw my first high-rise in Columbus, Ohio, at the age of six or seven, I am fascinated by skyscrapers. So what a treat, while visiting Taiwan recently, to go up into what was briefly once the world's tallest building, Taipei 101.

Photo courtesy of dans.photo@gmail.com 2009

We were a group of reporters and editors, visiting Hong Kong, Singapore and Taiwan through an East-West Center Asia Pacific fellowship. One night in the city we were whisked by the Association of Taiwan Journalists to the 85th floor of this giant to look out over a city of more than 2 million people. It was a stunning sight, with dusk coming on and beautiful rivers of arterial traffic below as people left work for home. I can never stand too close to the window, however. I look out, but not straight down. I don't need to feel that vulnerable, thank you.

But it is a beautiful piece of earth's skyline. It stands virtually alone in its neighborhood, a beacon that appears on postcards, key chains, stationery, you name it. Taipei 101 has become a symbol of the Republic of China - 23 million people just south of the People's Republic of China. Below is a gray-day view from my hotel window:


And another from the bus in the rain:


As American reporters we got a chance to meet with Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou. Most of the questions were about trade, economics and politics regarding China, but I asked the president about the building's symbolism in Taiwan, what it said about the city. He said, "I'm not really a fan of big buildings." But he said it's become a very successful business center and a "big tourist attraction." Mainland Chinese, especially, love to go up inside the distinctive landmark.

My home skyscraper guide, "Skyscrapers, a History of the World's Most Extraordinary Buildings," says of Taipei 101: "The skyscraper looks like an elongated multi-tiered pagoda, a traditional Asian form that symbolizes protection and achievement. It recalls, too, a bamboo plant, considered lucky by the Chinese and admired for its strength and resilience.

"The tower is composed of eight sections of eight floors each - eight being a lucky number associated with abundance and good fortune - and it faces south, an auspicious direction."

I felt auspicious myself coming down in its lightning-fast quiet elevators. Even being fascinated by this planet's skyscrapers it's always nice to be back on the first floor.

The Impeccable Taste of Lovely Singapore

In this whole big world of urban design there is everywhere else - and there is Singapore. I recently returned from Southeast Asia through an East-West Center fellowship - and fell in love with this excellent design outpost of nearly five million people on the southern tip of Malaysia.

Singapore is a small tropical country that raised itself from an under-developed colony under Great Britain to a global financial center in the span of my lifetime. Politically, it's a one-party state run - fortunately - by a government and urban planners with very good architectural taste. The waterfront skyline below testifies to the idea that good design can help create a great economy.



One of the most striking new features in Singapore is the Marina Bay Sands resort shown in two photos below. That's a ship on top of three hotel towers. I didn't get up there, but people say it's a walker's paradise of high-rise greenery. (The goal citywide is nearly 200 acres of high-rise landscaping by 2030).




View from a different part of the city:


I aim to study more about what global architectural firms designed what in this beautiful city. But here, for example, is the Singapore Supreme Court building.


And the National Library:


I shot this from a bus seat while stopped at a traffic light. I don't know if it's an office building or a residential high-rise. But the design is pure delight.


It was like this everywhere for five days. The airport was magnificent. Lush green landscaping adorned the parkway leading into the city. The streets were impeccably clean. I've long said that living amidst the magnificent scenery of Alaska, both in Kodiak and Juneau during the 1980s, ruined me for everywhere else. Lovely Singpore has done the same.