|
hortly
after Hurricane Andrew ripped through south Miami-Dade County
in 1992, laying to ruin entire neighborhoods and bringing daily
life to a halt in many areas, students from the University of
Miami School of Architecture lent their expertise to the recovery
effort. Working with faculty advisors, the students assessed
damages, documented endangered historic buildings, helped advise
local officials on long-range planning options, and produced
regional and local rebuilding proposals, some of which are being
implemented today.
This type of community outreach has become
a hallmark of the school. Only 15 years after its founding, the
School of Architecture has gained a national reputation for training
hands-on practitioners who view architecture as intrinsically
linked with urban planning and public policy.
This vision of the profession runs counter to the long-standing
(and often ridiculed) image of the "architect as artist."
Perhaps better than any, the character of Howard Roark in Ayn
Rand's novel The Fountainhead personifies the aloof, egocentric
qualities of the architect detached from the surroundings in
which he creates. "Do it my way or not at all," Roark
dictates.
As a result, architecture has witnessed a precipitous slide in
both pay and prestige in recent years. Critics show little sympathy,
blaming the arrogance of some design circles for many of the
nation's social and environmental concerns.
"The great harm done by some architectural theories of the
twentieth century has been acknowledged," says Elizabeth
Plater-Zyberk, dean of the School of Architecture. "We need
to look at how our work has contributed to the destruction of
American cities and how we can counteract this. The profession's
primary goal should be to provide solutions for the 'disposable
city syndrome' that we have inherited."
later-Zyberk's
criticisms are rooted in the architectural movement known as
New Urbanism, which espouses the belief that social engineering-be
it positive or negative, intended or unintended-is an inevitable
consequence of architecture. For example, housing subdivisions
with no sidewalks discourage walking and interaction; buildings
and neighborhoods that combine residential and commercial uses
reduce reliance on the automobile.
New
Urbanism, also known as neo-traditional or traditional neighborhood
design, represents a growing awareness that architects have a
responsibility to society that goes beyond simply designing buildings
that won't fall down. This awareness, in turn, has given rise
to a new architectural paradigm: the "architect as community
builder."
Central to New Urbanist thought is the belief that community
of place, the neighborhood, is a vital component of urban ecology
in which human, natural, and built environments interact.
In earlier times, civic interaction was instinctive. Town planners
shaped the built landscape to best promote the livelihood and
well-being of a region's inhabitants. Many early American settlements,
for example, began with a central green or park that could be
used for grazing sheep or community gatherings. Ringing the green
were shops, markets, churches, schools, and other public buildings.
Residential streets radiated outward. The density and design
allowed residents to walk almost anywhere in town, socialize,
conduct business, and establish support networks.
But the arrival of the automobile and the mortgage in the earlier
part of this century encouraged the replacement of this urban
model. Suddenly, suburban living offered an attractive option:
new housing, large yards, clean streets, and quiet neighborhoods.
But with school, work, and play no longer within walking distance,
civic interaction declined. Builders compounded the problem by
turning the suburban-living focus inward. Walls were placed around
subdivisions, cul-de-sacs replaced through streets, and garage
doors replaced windows facing the street. Television (and now,
the Internet) have turned homes into virtual cocoons, further
discouraging social interaction in neighborhoods.
Then, in the 1970s, the principles of New Urbanism emerged,
when disenchanted architects proposed an alternative model for
suburban development. Their ideas drew heavily from early town
design: sidewalks, back alleys, detached garages, front porches,
and even white picket fences.
In time, New Urbanism advocates realized that their goals could
not be accomplished through housing design alone. Diminished
civic interaction was also a result of zoning laws and public
policy. For example, laws that prevent home owners from renting
out garage apartments or other spaces restrict the integration
of socioeconomic groups. And laws that restrict markets and shops
adjacent to residential zones further encourage dependence on
the automobile. New Urbanism, in its fullest sense, is now an
interdisciplinary approach to tackling design and planning challenges.
hile
New Urbanism is widely taught-and debated-at schools throughout
the country, the University of Miami School of Architecture is
one of only a handful that have embraced the principles as the
foundation for architectural education. It is not by chance.
The school's faculty have been developing teaching methods based
on the values of New Urbanism for two decades. Seaside, the Florida
Panhandle community, was designed in the early eighties by faculty
with Plater-Zyberk and her partner, Andres Duany.
In
1992 Plater-Zyberk cofounded the Congress for the New Urbanism,
a diverse organization of architects, planners, elected officials,
and other professionals who share the belief that quality of
life and economic sustainability depend on the built environment.
The school's reputation as a leader in New Urbanist thought and
teaching attracts students from around the country and overseas.
One such student was Flinn Fagg (M.Arch. '95), now an architect
with The Folsom Group in Sarasota.
Fagg, 34, received his undergraduate degree from the University
of Oregon. He briefly worked in private practice but became intrigued
by the ideas of Plater-Zyberk and her colleagues. In 1992 he
enrolled in the school's Master of Architecture program with
a concentration in suburb and town design. The experience instilled
in him a new perspective on his profession.
"UM opened up a world of ideas," says Fagg. "And
the diversity of skills I received-both architecture and town
planning-opened a whole new set of career options." Fagg
says he had a half-dozen job offers upon graduation.
Indeed, the school's placement record is impressive. Plater-Zyberk
says each year recruiters come looking to fill twice as many
positions as the school graduates. Ray Gindroz, a founding member
of the Pittsburgh firm of UDA Architects, confirms that University
of Miami School of Architecture graduates are among the most
sought-after in the country.
"They're on the cutting edge down there, and have been for
some time," says Gindroz. "Credit the faculty and the
dean for continually moving the program forward. If you want
to study architecture, there's no better place to be."
|
|
Luce Professorship Blends
Architecture and Medicine
s
a cofounder of the Congress for New Urbanism, School of Architecture
Dean Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk looks for ways in which architects
and urban planners can encourage social interaction. As director
of the School of Medicine's Center for Family Studies, Jose Szapocznik
works to identify methodologies for strengthening bonds between
neighbors and family members within minority communities. By
bringing together these research similarities, Szapocznik and
Plater-Zyberk have brought the University of Miami its first-ever
Henry R. Luce Professorship, supported by the foundation created
by Time Inc. cofounder Henry R. Luce.
The
University's application for the professorship proposed linking
medicine and architecture to explore new techniques for promoting
and measuring social connections in the inner city.
Samina Quraeshi, a former design director at the National Endowment
for the Arts, is the first recipient of the University's Henry
R. Luce Professorship in Family and Community. She will work
to promote an interdisciplinary investigation of social ecology
within the urban environment. Her initial study area will be
the immigrant community of East Little Havana. Faculty and students
of the School of Medicine, through its Center for Family Studies,
and the School of Architecture, through its Center for Urban
and Community Design, have extensive experience in the area.
Szapocznik believes the interdisciplinary nature of the Luce
Professorship can help researchers from both schools overcome
some of their most frustrating challenges. "When you have
an illness, it's common to think there is only one way to treat
it," says Szapocznik. "But by combining the tools of
different treatments you have a much greater likelihood of success.
That's what we can accomplish by bringing together our different
ideas and the knowledge of our respective disciplines."
|