I would add that this scale continues into our dwellings, from public entertaining rooms to domestic spaces – the veins and capillaries of our communal existence.
If we consider our cities as higher-order beings, why design them on life support? Before coal, solar, and nuclear power, we relied on our own energy. We spent millennia studying the wind and sun, optimizing our structures to thrive on them. This habit will not die quickly. As technology advances beyond our intuitive grasp, unease rises deep in our psyche. We throw the windows open, escape to the garden, and reject the nightless, dayless, floodlit and conditioned spaces that are the inheritance of our progress. Modern standards of comfort should build upon natural systems, not against them.
What is good for the body is good for its cells. Urban planners must consider the human scale of their plans. From a God’s-eye view above their drawings, designers often privilege a beautiful diagram and traffic flow over the experience of each resident. Scale is a critical issue. We need interruptions. We need nuance. We need destinations to draw our interest, and collective investment. In this era of unprecedented mobility, cities must be functional and interesting in order to survive.
Working site plan for Hill Town Resort project (drawing by the author)