2010s alienation

As the start of 2020 approaches, I have been agonizing over a thought piece to write on the 2010s.  While reading through "best of the decade" articles for inspiration, it dawned on me how removed I am from the trends that have defined the past 10 years. The 2010s, a Guardian columnist writes, have been both a "decade of crisis" and alienation, in which the foundations of post-Cold War capitalist society have started to crumble at the very moment western youth become self-absorbed in their social media feeds and self-improvement. Life has become both fast-paced and erratic, predicated on Promethean multi-tasking (and multi-focusing) capabilities. And yet, neither the global upheavals in politics and the environment nor the lifestyle changes brought about by social media have significantly affected me.

First, with regards to crisis: this decade has had its share of catastrophes. I still vividly remember going to the UCLA campus (I was studying for a master's at the time) the morning after Donald Trump's election. The emotions that I then felt, a mixture of sadness, rage and grief-were more powerful than any I had ever experienced outside of a couple family tragedies. I nearly got into a scuffle with a pro-Trump heckler I encountered near the Math Science Building while partaking in an anti-Trump protest march during a break from class.

Protests on the UCLA Campus following Donald Trump's Election, November 10, 2016

I had avoided the news for a few years prior to the 2016 election. My involvement in heated campus political debates as an undergraduate student had left me with an aversion for partisan feuding, despite maintaining strong political beliefs. I went into urban planning partly because I (wrongly) thought it would be a way to implement progressive policies without having to fight political battles. However, the threatening nature of Donald Trump's candidacy combined with the even more unsettling feat of his election victory prompted me to renew my focus.

The balance between staying informed and keeping sane has been tough. I have long struggled with OCD and anxiety. Scanning through provocative online headlines in the first year following the election led to many restless and unproductive afternoons. I have gone so far as to delete Apple News from my phone but still read the Atlantic and New York Times on a weekly basis.

Still, despite my revived news interest, I don't feel a strong sense of personal impact from the events of the past decade. President Trump's racist, classist and isolationist policies and rhetoric have not (yet) personally affected me as a middle-class, straight, Eurasian male. The more volatile climate has led to more wildfire and flooding episodes here in southern California but I have an insulated home with modern, air-conditioning, heating and Netflix. Not being able to go outside for a few hours on a certain fall or winter day is a disappointment, not an inconvenience.

Smoke-filled Vista of West Hollywood during the Bel Air Fire, December 2017

Similarly, I feel out of place with the trend towards constant "multi-tasking." The growing sophistication of smartphones in the last decade, coupled with the emergence of social media platforms like Instagram, has enabled everyone to do everything all at once. Everyone that is, except for me.

I have always been thorough in my processing of information, preferring lengthy travel books and encyclopedias as a young reader to the "For Kids" summaries favored by my peers. For much of the last decade, I strived towards an academic/research career (first in history and then in urban planning), immersing myself ever more deeply into the thorny details of weighty theoretical questions.

 Smartphones

While much of the world moved from traditional news journalism to Buzzfeed, I progressed from occasionally reading the New Yorker to regularly reading articles in the Journal of the American Planning Association. While I sought out the life of the mind, others lived the life of the meme.

This is not to say that I never multi-task or superficially scan social media. When typing a piece on my computer (as I'm doing now), it can be incredibly difficult for me not to open another window in order to scan headlines in the New York Times or London Review of Books. However, I cannot pretend-as most can-that such switches of attention are productive or even momentary. One scan of the page leads me to read one article, click on three links and so on. It is the idea of the millennial as a net-savvy multi-tasker that excludes me.

At the other extreme, the anxiety created by digital multi-tasking and global tumult has made "mindfulness" meditation increasingly popular. "Mindfulness" sessions aim to reduce anxiety by drawing participants' attention to the present moment, through techniques such as deep breathing and listening to statements of self-affirmation.

As someone who periodically participates in mindfulness meditation, I believe it has many therapeutic benefits. Meditation helps me acknowledge the subjectivity of my thoughts and emotions in stressful situations.

And yet, many mindfulness videos and programs I have encountered espouse foolishly optimistic attitudes towards the world and life. For instance, morning meditations I have listened to on Youtube repeat phrases1 like "Today is going to be a great day" or express gratitude2 for such modern "miracles" as "the electric light," "stoves," and "automobiles." The former statement seems out of touch with a society in which many people struggle to pay education or medical bills. The latter papers over the fact that many modern conveniences also contribute to climate change.

Much of the past decade's pop culture mindfulness, which implicitly demands a retreat from the public sphere, amounts to nothing more than escapism. Like boozy brunches and Netflix binges, mass meditation has served only as a momentary distraction from a world on the brink.

For much of the 2010s, I have felt isolated in a world that teeters between chaos and distraction. This isolation has been compounded by my social anxiety and awkwardness. In the last few months, the future has begun to look more promising. I have come to terms with some of my inner demons and began to accept my unique personality.

The next decade will likely be even more tumultuous. Climate change will accelerate. Trump won't go down without a fight, with social media being a prime battleground.

Therefore, I feel compelled to take a stand in the 2020s rather than sitting it out. My recent personal crisis has inspired me to express my ideas and opinions. To provide a digital outlet for deep thinking on an array of topics, communicated in terms anyone can understand.

My first big project for 2020 will be to upgrade and expand this blog (more details coming soon). Its hard to project what will happen afterward. I look forward to the journey.

1. See Today is a Great Day-10 Minute Guided Morning Meditation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhMinG8RNek
2. See Louise Hay's Morning Meditation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jNV1FV-_Os&t=9s

Architectural Aesthetics and Density Politics in Los Angeles

Density is now a hot-button topic in LA politics. The high price of housing in the region has drawn attention to the city’s byzantine land use regulations, which restrict the density and height of multi-family development while burdening new units with requirements to provide off-street parking spaces. While some advocacy groups (looking at you, Abundant Housing LA) support zoning reforms and other housing-friendly policies, they face strong opposition from both local neighborhood associations and prominent politicians.

Some of the opposition can be easily explained in terms of rational self-interest (e.g. a building blocking a view of the Hollywood sign) or generational conflict (Baby Boomers clinging to a mid-century suburban ideal versus city-loving middle-class Millenials). But given the visceral nature of anti-growth sentiment, which at times goes against the self-interest of the parties involved (e.g. homeowners in Westwood opposing high-density commercial developments that would increase the value of their property), I suspect that a larger psychological bias is at play.

A Google search for “ugly development” yields more than 82.5 million results, with seven of the top nine housing-related results specifically criticizing multi-family housing design and two of these being articles criticizing current densification in Santa Monica. As if Google can read the sub-conscious, a related image search which surfaces at the bottom of the page bears the terms “Modern Apartment Buildings.”

 ©Creative Commons (Unsourced Photos taken by Author)

Dingbat (Top), Concrete monster (middle), Concrete monster+ “Hipster Fencing” (bottom)

In an article from several years back, that was cross-published on Zocalo Public Square and the development-skeptic news site CityWatch, architect Greg Goldin denigrates’ Los Angeles’ “public architecture” (I.e. everything excluding the single-family residence) as “resoundingly mediocre.”

Might it be the case that popular animosity towards density in Los Angeles stems at least partly from the low-grade design of its 3+ story buildings?

Having been on an apartment search for the past three months, I have found plenty of supporting evidence. Many of the region’s high-density neighborhoods, such as West Hollywood and Koreatown, are littered with a mix of tacky dingbats (sorry, Dingbat lovers, being regionally- and historically-specific does not compensate for aesthetic deficiencies) and monochrome concrete boxes which look like they’re made out of either fine-grained paper mache or painted-over cardboard. Post-2000 structures usually add on an annoying “hipster fence” and glass façade. I have seldom encountered apartment buildings that either appealed to my aesthetic sensibilities or conveyed a unique sense of place.

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What might an alternative high-density architecture look like? When I ponder this question, I think back to my mid-June visit to Chicago, arguably the world’s first high-rise city. The “Loop”, as the city’s central business district is referred to, boasts many eye-pleasing skyscrapers including the Chicago Board of Trade and Frank Lloyd Wright's "Rookery" building.

Chicago Board of Trade (Top), The Rookery (Bottom)

Collectively, the high-rise facades make for some impressive skyline views.

  “City Beautiful”. Views of the Chicago Loop looking west from Millenium Park 

While the Loop is a classic Central Business District, with land uses overwhelmingly commercial and tourist-oriented in nature, the brick-and-mortar turn-of-the-century elegance extends well into the inner-ring suburbs, including along this commercial/apartment corridor nearWrigley Field.

Wrigleyville street, spotted from the "L"

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LA should not mimic Chicago’s architecture as it densifies. Nor does it need to. Hidden amidst central Los Angeles’s boxy behemoths, one can find stunning duplexes, triplexes and even three to five story apartment buildings constructed in the Spanish Colonial Revival and Art Deco styles. Nearly all of these were constructed before World War II.

Spanish Revival Adobe Duplex in Fairfax Neighborhood

Colonial Revival apartment building in Beverly Hills

Two months after visiting Chicago, I flew across the Atlantic to Madrid. While walking off jet lag during my first evening, I stumbled upon the Gran Via, a majestic commercial street that was largely developed during the early twentieth century. 

Gran Via Street Scene

Despite their young age, many of the buildings have adapted the baroque features (e.g. elaborate marble columns and cartouches) that characterize the architecture of Madrid's historic center.

Madrid historic center: Plaza Mayor (top) and Palacio Real (bottom)

The art deco edifice of the Circulo de Bellas Artes (the “Circle of Fine Arts”-i.e. the city's theater/cultural center) particularly caught my attention.

Circulo de Bellas Artes

Standing at eight stories (183 feet) high, it would easily dwarf most LA apartment buildings outside of downtown. And yet, the geometric window/column patterns and graceful upper-story curvature make it attractive rather than imposing. The neo-baroque colonnade and grey color palate cohere nicely with the surrounding low-rise edifices.

The Circulo is a modern skyscraper which pays homage to Madrid’s 18^th-century Baroque architecture and helps foster a unique and appealing sense of place on the Gran Via.

Can LA do the same? Can we develop high-rise apartment complexes that reflect our city's multi-faceted historical and cultural experience (Indigenous, Spanish, Mexican, Chicano, Chinese, etc.)? Can we build structures that stand tall without sticking out from the surrounding ecological and built environments?  Can we develop a vernacular architecture that excites locals and newcomers alike, and which visually cements our city’s reputation as a cool, creative international cultural center?

For architects, answering this question may require an extended intellectual conversation. However, urban planners like myself can give powerful incentives by reforming zoning codes to reduce the Euclidean zoning (i.e. limiting buildings’ height, density, bulk and use) component and increase the form-based (i.e. regulating the aesthetic character) zoning component. Planners should also consider how minimum parking requirements stifle architectural creativity by forcing developers to excessively budget for vehicle storage.

Angelenos, planner, developer and resident alike: I want to hear from you. What are your thoughts? Please comment below😊