Most constructions have meaning only to humans, and only as we experience them. They are revealed by lines or patterns of circulation that lead us to, through, over, under, or around them, on foot or on horseback, by plane, train, automobile, or any other means of locomotion or conveyance. We thus realize that the circulation pattern is a major function of any planned development because it establishes the rate, sequence, and nature of its sensed realization or visual unfolding.
Every object as a perceptible entity exists in time as well as in space. This is to say that an object cannot be comprehended in its entirety at any one instant or from any one point of observation. It is perceived, rather, through a flow of impressions. When in motion, one sees a series of images blending into an expanding visual realization of an object, space, or scene. Perception is not a matter of sight alone. All the senses may be involved—sight, taste, smell, touch, and hearing. The rate, order, type, and degree of perception are a matter of design control. Much of this control is effected by planned patterns of circulation.
Experience is rarely static; almost always, motion is involved in the person or in the thing experienced. A structure is seldom seen from a fixed point of view or in direct elevation but usually by people on the move. Its three-dimensional form and modeling are therefore often as important as its facade. The plan pattern of a site is also usually realized from an infinite number of viewing points by people moving through it. The more fluid the circulation pattern, the more points of view and, therefore, the more interest and enjoyment in viewing.
Motion Impelled by Form and Concept
One afternoon, some time ago, the coauthor entered the National Gallery in Washington to join a group of sightseers who were starting out with a guide. The group stood in the great rotunda, at the base of the towering black marble columns that support the lofty dome. “Do you know,” asked the guide, “what the architect of this great edifice has planned as an introduction? He has directed you here to give you the theme—the magnificence of all history—to make you feel ant-high and insignificant before all the greatness that lies behind and ahead. You are awed by new, strange shapes and sizes and the astonishing opulence. But the architect doesn’t want to scare you away, as most of us are by strange and unfamiliar things. So, as we approach the Mercury Fountain at the rotunda’s center, he wants to make us feel at ease. And how does he accomplish this? By the size of things, by scale.
Motion implied by form. © Charles Mayer Photography/ Stephen Stimson Associates; Golden Bough Landscape Architecture
“The figure of Mercury is less than life-size. The steps leading up to the fountain are broad and low rather than high and forbidding. The water play is subdued to a splash and burble rather than a rush. The architect gives us also a concept with which we are familiar, not a terrible war god but one of the more kindly gods, Mercury, who speeds and flashes about on winged feet. We, who know the legends, want to walk closer to this figure. Here in this lofty dome of light and space is held out to us that which makes us want to come near, makes us feel pleased and relaxed.
“And so the architect has piqued our curiosity, impressed us, and humbled us. He has pleased us. Now he wants to get us moving out into the exhibit rooms. How is this accomplished? You will notice that he starts a centrifugal movement with a dominant spiral theme. The lines of the figure of Mercury are spiral in diagram. The subject of the sculpture, appropriately, is ‘flight.’ Motion is further suggested by the movement of the water as it ripples toward the fountain brim. All lines move outward. Above us, even the carved eagles on the architrave seem ready to soar away. Even the coffers of the tremendous dome sweep in a great spiral pattern. By sound, motion, and induced ideas, by strong urging of architectural form and line, we are compelled to outward motion.”
The Kinematics of Motion
Without reference to the cause of movement, it is interesting to dwell for a few moments on the various characteristics of pure motion. By design, the line or trajectory of induced movement may be meandering, discursive, circuitous, looping, zigzagging, ricocheting, ascending, descending, hyperbolic, or centripetal; it may be an arc or a direct straight shot. In speed, the motion may range from the creeping-crawling to the whizzing-whistling. The nature of induced motion may be soothing, startling, shocking, baffling, confusing, exploratory, logical, sequential, progressive, hieratic, linear, wavelike, flowing, branching, diverging, converging, timorous, forceful, expanding, contracting, and so on, ad infinitum.
Line of approach. Abstract variables in line of approach to a given point, area, or space.
The alignment, speed, and nature of motion produce in a moving subject a fairly predictable emotional and intellectual response and must therefore be carefully considered. The abstract qualities of the path or line by which an object or space is approached must also be controlled with care. Motion that is induced must be accommodated and satisfactorily resolved. This fact is also obvious, but, like so many obvious things, it is too often overlooked in our planning.
Impelling Factors
The observant planner soon learns that one is impelled to motion horizontally, vertically, downward—when it gives ease and pleasure of motion and satisfaction in alignment. Our sense of sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell are often compelling factors in the subconscious plotting of our courses and the determination of our actions. Physical comfort is a powerful factor, too.
We tend to move:
In logical sequences of progression
In lines of least resistance
Along easiest grades
In lines suggested by directional forms, signs or symbols
Toward that which pleases
Toward things wanted
Toward things that have use
Toward change; from cold to warm, from sun to shade, from shade to sun
Toward that which has interest
Toward that which excites curiosity
Toward the beautiful, the picturesque
For the pleasurable sensation of motion
For the experience of space modulation
Toward exposure, if adventurous
Toward protection, if threatened
Toward points of entry
Toward the receptive
Toward points of highest contrast
Toward points of richest texture or color
To attain a goal
By pride of height attained, distance traveled, friction overcome
In haste, via the direct; with leisure; with leisure, via the indirect
In harmony with circulation patterns
In harmony with abstract design forms
Toward and through pleasant areas and spaces
Toward order, if tired of confusion
Toward confusion, if bored with order
Toward objects, areas, and spaces that suit our mood or needs
We are repelled by:
Obstacles
Steep grades
The unpleasant
The monotonous
The uninteresting
The dull
The ugly
The unsuitable
The obvious
The undesirable
The uninspiring
The forbidding
The demanding
Danger
Friction
Motion Directors
We are directed or guided by:
Arrangement of natural or structural forms
Implied patterns of circulation
Baffles, screens, and space dividers
Suggested progression such as from red to orange, from hole number 1 to hole number 2
Signs
Symbols
Mechanical controls such as gates, curbs, and barriers
Dynamic plan lines
Spatial shapes
Repose Inducers
We are induced to repose by:
Conditions of comfort, enjoyment, or rest
Opportunity for privacy
Opportunity for fuller appreciation of view, object, or detail
Pleasant arrangement of forms and space
Opportunity for concentration
Restriction of movement
Inability to proceed
Imposed indecision
Functions related to rest and repose
Attainment of optimum position
Horizontal Motion
We are affected by horizontal motion in the following ways:
Movement is easier, freer and more efficient in horizontal planes.
Movement is safer.
Change of direction is easier.
Choice of direction is greater.
Visual interest is in the vertical planes.
Most functions are better suited to horizontal surfaces.
Movement is easier to control.
Vision of moving objects is easier to control.
We are affected by downward motion in the following ways:
Effort is minimized, but elevation must be regained.
Safety depends on checks and on texture.
Downward motion gives a sense of refuge, hiding, digging in.
It gives a coasting, swooping sense of being in harmony with the forces of gravity.
Vision is oriented to the base plane.
Interest is increased in things of the earth—in plants, water, and minerals.
It offers relatively effortless movement, most welcome in the home stretch when energies flag.
It gives a sense of increased confinement, protection, and privacy.
It suggests the coalpit, the swamp, the fertile valley.
It embodies the rathskeller concept.
It embodies the bargain basement concept.
Downward movement and depth are accentuated by deep earth colors, solidity and simplicity of form, natural materials, and falling or quiet water.
Upward Motion, Rise, or Climb
We are affected by upward motion in the following ways:
Upward motion requires force of lift to overcome gravity.
It adds a new dimension to motion.
It is exhilarating.
It gives a sense of accomplishment, of conquest of gravity.
It gives a sense of going up in life.
It offers detachment from the things of the earth.
It embodies the concept of man or woman against the sky.
It epitomizes increased concern for safety and stability and for texture of the base plane to provide necessary traction and grip.
It imparts a moral implication of exaltation, of being close to God.
It gives a sense of being closer to the sun, of being rarefied.
It offers detachment from the crowd, supremacy, command.
It implies military advantage.
It means attainment of the pinnacle.
It offers expanding views and vistas.
It offers visual interest in the overhead plane, using sun and sky to full effect.
All the above are increased in proportion to the angle of inclination.
Height connotes attainment, inspiration, the sublime and release.
Depth connotes regression, concentration, confinement, shelter, the profane, and the weight of pressure.
We respond by:
Relaxing in the familiar, becoming aroused or excited by the unfamiliar
Finding pleasure in unity, variety, and that which is fitting
Ossifying and decaying physically, mentally, and spiritually amid the rigid and fixed
Finding security in order
Finding amusement and divertissement in the strange, in the lively, and in change.
On the street, in crowded shopping districts, and perhaps even more particularly in exhibit areas, we are invited, cajoled, badgered, seduced, preached to, begged, teased, blasted at, or otherwise attracted by a constantly evolving, rolling barrage of visual persuaders. Sometimes falteringly, sometimes unerringly, we follow our eye-mind impellers toward that which is:
| Meaningful | Suitable |
| Animated | Convenient |
| Contrasting | On course |
| Unusual | Educational |
| Beautiful | Curious |
| Varied | Exotic |
| Near pix, or eye level | Extraordinary |
| Decorative | Appropriate |
| Necessary | Stimulating |
| Desirable | Admirable |
| Restful, when weary of tumult | True |
| Startling | Diverting |
| Vigorous | Amusing |
| Bold | Suggesting |
| Interesting | Satisfying |
| Exciting | Dramatic |
| Abstract | Sample |
| Select | Clean |
| Successful | Natural |
| Distinguished | Weird |
| Sophisticated | Plausible |
| Comprehensible | Colorful |
| Superlative | Lively |
| Supreme | Pleasantly shocking |
| Impressive | Bright |
| Surprising | Familiar, amid much that is strange |
| Ingenious | In motion against a fixed background |
| Dominant | Charming |
| Spectacular | Subdued, when weary of the bright |
| Subtle | Awesome |
| Associative | Symbolic |
| Inspiring | Fresh |
| Strange, amid the familiar | Excellent |
| New | Useful |
| Pleasing in pattern | Logical |
| Pleasing in form | Sequential |
| Pleasing in scale | Progressive |
| Safe | Human |
| Stable | Appealing |
Our senses of sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell are often compelling factors in the subconscious plotting of our courses and the determination of our actions. Physical comfort is a powerful factor, too.
Distance as Friction
In moving about by any means, distance is considered an obstacle to be overcome, area that must be traversed, and space that must be bridged, with energy expended. When speed and economy are factors, it is incumbent upon the planner to select or devise a route that is as direct as practicable and that provides a minimum of deterrent to smooth and rapid travel.
Such a route would be of suitable grade and alignment. The speed and volume of traffic would be accommodated. Traffic of various types and velocities would be classified and separated. All obstacles would be removed. Grade crossings would be eliminated. Safety would be assured in all ways possible. All objects and elements along the route would facilitate and express a freedom of movement because such trafficways must not only be direct and free but must also suggest efficiency.
Positive Qualities of Distance
Distance is a function of area, and area is a function of space. Both area and space are usually at a premium. In our world of expanding population and increasing pressures, we often yearn for more room and seek to extend our constricting boundaries. When boundaries are fixed, as is usually the case, we attempt to expand them by some plan device. We increase perceived distances. This high art was long ago mastered by the planners of those cultures that lived in compression—on the fortified island or hilltop or within the city wall. It is an art that we, in the increased planning concentrations and population densities of the near future, must relearn and develop.
Often a ramp is planned as an alternative to nearby steps in order to accommodate the handicapped, wheeled vehicles, and equipment.
Space Modulation
It is an established planning fact that we seek in an area that quality of harmony, oneness, or unity that is the mark of any well-conceived work of science or art. We are attracted to such places and rebel at the intrusion of the incongruous element—for example, a claptrap hotdog stand in a beautiful natural gorge.
In addition, we seek a harmonious sequence of transition from one space to another. In going from club terrace to the swimming pool below, a detour through the parking lot would be disturbing. When driving the family from home to a picnic spot, we would avoid the business districts and prefer a parkway route, river road, or country lane, to sustain or heighten the anticipated mood and provide a pleasantly evolving transition.
People in motion take pleasure in the sensation of change—change of texture, light quality, temperature, scent, visual patterns, expanding or contracting vistas, and the fluid visual impressions of objects, spaces, and views.
We take pleasure in an area arranged in shape, line, color, and texture to accommodate and express the use for which it was intended. We have learned also that our pleasure is increased when the area is further developed into a volume or series of volumes that, by degree and type of enclosure, further articulate the planned use. We enjoy moving to and through a space and around or past an object. We also enjoy moving from one space to another, the experience of sequential space-to-space transition.
Sometimes the transition is subtle. One may be led through a sequence of varying spaces that provide a complete change in use and mood in such a way that the transition is almost imperceptible. Sometimes the transition is powerful. One may, by planned intent, be so compressed into a low, tight, dark space that release into a lofty, dazzling, free space is startling and dramatic. In any event, the skilled planner, by spatial manipulation, can play upon human emotions, reflexes, and responses as surely as does the skilled musician with the harp or flute or drum.
Spaces of passage. Marion Brenner Photography/Lutsko Associates; Barry W. Starke, EDA
In one of the Summer Palace groups near the Jade Fountain to the west of Beijing, there once existed a walled enclosure known as the Court of the Concubine. Here, many years ago, lived the favorite concubine of one of the imperial princes. At one end of the courtyard stood her handsome residence of lacquered wood, tile, soft mats, and woven screens, and at the other end a light, airy pavilion, where she and her maids whiled away the summer afternoons. By legend, she had been brought from the open plains of Szechuan (Sichuan) Province, and she longed for its lakes, woods, meadows, and far mountains and for the wide spaces and the freedoms she had known there. And here, in the Summer Palace, this confining courtyard had now become her world.
The prince and his planners, wishing to please her, set out to create, within the limits of this space, an expansive paradise of freedom and delight. From her residence, to give the illusion of distance, the walls of the courtyard were stepped both inward and down to increase the apparent distance to the facing pavilion. Furthermore, to reduce the effect of rigid enclosure, the far plantings extended on either side of, and beyond, the lines of the converging walls. Even the size of the paving slabs was reduced from near to far. Moving outward, all textures changed imperceptibly from the rough to the refined, and colors varied from the warm scarlets, reds, oranges, and yellows to the soft, cool, muted greens and lavenders and evanescent grays. Trees and plants in the foreground were bold in outline and foliage; those near the fragile pavilion were dwarfed and delicate. Water in the near fountain gurgled and splashed, while in the far ponds it lay mirrorlike and still. By such manipulations of perspective alone, the views from the concubine’s quarters were made to seem expansive and the pavilion remote.
As the mistress left the terrace of her residence to move out in the courtyard, she passed through a pungently aromatic clump of twisted junipers to come upon a curiously contorted “mountain stone” that rose serenely from a bed of moss. On the stone wall behind it was incised a pattern of stylized cloud forms with the poetic inscription “Above the plains of Szechuan the clouds rest lightly on the lofty mountain peaks.” Here, 10 steps from her terrace yet hidden from view, she could be, in her thoughts, again among her mountains.
Just beyond, and angling temptingly out of sight, was a wall of emerald tile with an embossed tile dragon that seemed to writhe in splendid fury toward an open gateway. Inside the gate was a low stone bin spilling over with blooming peonies that laced the sunlit space with their pastel colors and delicious spicy fragrance. The sound of trickling water was meant to lead her eye to a cool and shadowy recess where a teakwood bench was placed near the light spray of a waterfall. From overhead, the branches of weeping willow cascaded down until the tips dipped into the water, where gold and silver fantails drifted languidly among the floating willow leaves. A meandering line of stepping-stones led across the pond to disappear into the tracery of a bamboo grove where swaying finches trilled and filled the light air with soft and tremulous melody. The thin pathway led out beyond to a ferny opening beside the farthermost lobe of the pool, which here lay deep and silent. At its edge, a carved soapstone table and cushioned seats were arranged in the shade of a feathery smoke pine near the steps of the pavilion.
From the raised pavilion platform, looking back, a surprising new vista met the eye. For, by forced perspective, the residence seemed startlingly near. The path that led from it was ingeniously concealed, and another route of return invited one to new garden features and spaces.
This masterful courtyard was designed as an evolving complex of spaces, each complete in itself. And each transition, space to space and element to element, was contrived, with a deft assurance born of long centuries of practice, as a harmonious progression.
Space modulation! We in America have yet to learn the meaning of the words. But we will learn it in the crowded years ahead, for indeed we must; and we will develop it, without a doubt, to new heights of artistry.
Conditioned Perception
Experience has taught us that what a thing is, is often of less importance than how we relate to it. The tree unseen or unremembered for us does not exist. The tree on the distant hilltop may be for the moment only an object that marks our path. As we approach, we see it to be a pear tree with many pleasant connotations. Coming close, we may be tempted to pick its fruit. Or perhaps in the noontime heat of an August day we may welcome the chance to lie in its shade, hang a child’s swing from one of the lower branches, or spread a picnic at its base. In every case the tree is the same, but our impression of it changes with our sensed relationship. This being so, it would seem that should we place a tree or any other object in a space, we must consider not only the relationship of the object to the space but also the relationship of the object to all who will use the space. We must program the user’s perception of the object by a sequence of planned relationships that will reveal its most appealing qualities.
Our impressions of an object or a space are conditioned by those we have already experienced or those anticipated. A bright, sunlit court is the more pleasant because we have just left the leafy coolness of an arbor. The splash and spray of a fountain are the more appreciated when we have approached it by way of the hot, dry sunbaked court. The birch clumps have more meaning when we sense that the river lies just ahead. The wide, free space is wider and freer to us when we realize that behind or beyond it we have known or will know the compression of confined spaces.
We plan, then, not a single experience alone but rather a series of conditioned experiences that will heighten the interacting pleasurable impact of each. The Chinese epicure would understand this procedure, for to him or her the well-conceived banquet is a balanced succession of sensory delights. The thin, bland shark-fin soup, the brittle wafer of salt seaweed, the glutinous pungency of jellied egg, mealy water chestnuts with almond bits, the sweet astringent bite of crab-apple preserves, light, fluffy fried rice, steaming sweet-sour fish in persimmon sauce, bitter tea, crisp vegetables braised in light peanut oil, tender chewy bits of mushroom and meat, soft noodles in broth with pigeon eggs, the rich custard of ripe durian, mouth-cleansing tea, the cool acidulous mango and more tea, and finally the lightest and driest of wines. Each such meal is designed as an artistically balanced sequence of gustatory, tactile, visual, and intellectual experiences. Should we be satisfied with less artistry in planning the places and spaces of our living environment?
Experience, we may see, is compounded of that which we have perceived, that which we are perceiving, and that which we expect to perceive. As we move through a space or a complex of spaces, we subconsciously remember that which we have passed or sensed. We thus orient backward in time and space, as well as forward, and find that each orientation gives meaning to the other and to all.
Sequence, in terms of planning, may be defined as a succession of perceptions having continuity. Sequences have no meaning except as we experience them. Conversely, all experience is sequential.
In nature, sequences are casual and free. Sometimes, but not always, they are progressive. Such a progression may be one of ascent, as in the experience of climbing from lowland to mountain peak; one of direction, as westward from the central plains across the desert, over the mountains, through the valleys, and to the ocean; one moving inward, from the sunlit edges of a forest to its deep, shadowy interior; or a progression of enclosure, complexity, intensity, convenience, or comprehension.
The Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial is a sequence of outdoor spaces interpreting the four terms of his presidency. Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA
Sometimes the sequences of nature are revealed with no more order than in the haphazard impressions of an adult or a child wandering lackadaisically through the landscape, along a lonely stretch of seashore, or among the shallow pools of a tidal flat.
The planned sequence may be casual or disciplined. It may be rambling and intentionally devil-may-care, or it may, to achieve a purpose, be contrived with a high degree of order. The planned sequence is an extremely effective design device. It may induce motion, give direction, create cadence, instill a mood, or reveal or explain an object or a series of objects in space.
Sequence. Abstract representation of various types of plan sequence. Arrows indicate line of progression.
A planned sequence is a conscious organization of elements in space. It has a beginning and an end that is usually, but not always, the climax. Indeed, there may be several or many subclimaxes, each of which must satisfy its supporting sequence. Through its suggestion of motion and momentum, one feels compelled to move from the start of a sequence to its completion. Once initiated, sequence and induced movement are to be brought to a logical, or at least a satisfying, conclusion.
Planned sequential development of a predetermined experience.
It can be seen that all planned spaces are experienced by a progressive order of perceptions or events. It can also be appreciated that such sequences are subject to design control. A well-conceived plan determines not only the nature of climaxes but also their timing, their intensity, and the transitions by which they are evolved.
A sequence may be simple, compound, or complicated. It may be sustained, interrupted, varied, or modulated. It may be focalizing or diversifying, minute or extensive; and it may be subtle or powerful.
A sequence in its abstract beat or meter may, like the varied rhythms of a jungle drum, instill a feeling of excitement, warning, fear, frenzy, mystery, wonder, awe, pleasure, happiness, exultation, power, anger, belligerence, challenge, temptation, regret, sadness, uncontrollable grief, or comfort.
Woe be to the designer who, by plan sequence, induces in the observer a mood or expectation not in keeping with the functions of the plan. In contrast, how superbly effective is that sequential order of spaces and form that develops and accentuates an induced response in consonance with the preconceived experience.
If a sequence is marked with a rhythmic recurrence of one or more spatial qualities—size, shape, color, lighting, or texture—a cadence soon becomes evident. Depending upon its nature, intensity, and rate of incidence, such a cadence has a slight to very considerable emotional impact upon the moving observer. Sometimes the effect is desirable, sometimes disastrous. Suffice it to note that, in the planning of any spaces through which people are to move on foot or by vehicle, an understanding of both spatial modulation and space cadence is essential.
Progressive sequential realization of a concept or conditioned attainment of a goal.
The Ordered Approach
When in motion, we are acted upon by the physical environment through which we pass. It would seem, therefore, that when moving toward a goal we could be prepared, by design, for that goal, or when moving toward an anticipated experience, we could be prepared for that experience. This is, in fact, the case.
As an example of the reverse effect, let us consider the members of a family on their way to a city church that fronts upon a busy commercial highway. As they drive along, they feel hurried and then perhaps a little alarmed when they must swing sharply out of the rushing traffic into the tight entrance of the church drive. It is narrow and jammed with idling cars that are waiting to discharge passengers. After a lurching and nervous advance, the driver finally stops to let his wife and children out near the entrance door, only to find soon after that the church parking lot is filled. Frantically, he crosses the highway to park in the lot of a nearby supermarket, then jogs back up the hill to the church, where he squeezes into the pew beside his family just as the service begins. He and his wife and children are ruffled and tense, and the service is over before they regain their composure. Obviously, for these people and for great multitudes like them, a presumably pleasant experience of going to church has never been properly planned.
In the same community, let us say, another church has been sited to front on a quiet residential parkway. On Sunday mornings, as the families make their way to church by car or along the pleasant approach walks, the church is seen set back, framed by trees, and serenely inviting. Driveways, entrance loop, and the parking areas are easily reached and adequate. Connecting walks lead to a wide and spacious court, from which the entrance doors open. Here, pausing before entry, one is prepared by form, by symbol, by the very quality of the space, for the services inside. Here, after the service, families and friends can meet and visit in appropriate surroundings. The approaching, attending, and leaving of this church are all planned as conducive, meaningful aspects of worship.
In Asian cultures, such approaches are designed with admirable sensitivity. As one moves, for example, down the roadway toward the entrance gate of temple grounds, the very street assumes an air of reverent dignity. By tradition, walls and gates close out the temporal world and enclose a garden space of tranquil peace, a symbolic paradise. From far down the road to the innermost altar, the approach is designed as a superbly modulated transition, from the crude to the refined, from the crass to the rich, from the distracting to the introspective, from the temporal to the sublime.
By similar means, we may be conditioned for any planned human experience. And, by all odds, we should be.
The characteristics of pedestrian traffic can best be understood by comparing them with those of a stream or river. Foot traffic, like flowing water, follows a course of least resistance. It tends toward the shortest distance, point to point. It has a pressure of momentum. It has force. It erodes. Swift movement requires a straight, smooth channel with increased width at the curves. If not provided, such a channel will be forced. Just as in the swift river jutting points are worn away, rock ledges are undercut, and the oxbow is “strung,” so does the force of pedestrian traffic grind away at impinging or constricting forms or leap the channel to shape a new and freer course.
Just as a canal establishes the route, rate, and maximum volume of its boating traffic, so constructed walks can fix the path and control the movement of pedestrians. Again, as with the meandering stream on a level plain, the course of such traffic may be governed by unpredictable variables. Sometimes, in campus planning particularly, where lines of pedestrian force are so difficult to predetermine, only the major walks are constructed with the buildings, and the crosswalks or meandering pathways are laid down later along those unconscious and natural lines of movement worn thin in the campus turf.
Pedestrians move in sequence through zoological display. Adam Jones, Jones & Jones Architects and Landscape Architects, Ltd.
An obstacle in a traffic stream, as in a stream of water, produces turbulence. Turbulence is friction. Where directional traffic or rapid flow is desirable, islands in the path or walkway are best streamlined or shaped to divert and direct flowing traffic.
The planner of an exhibition attempts to foresee people’s behavior and predict where they will hurry, stop, look, or drift on. His aim is to control the flow and arrest it where he wants; but controlling the flow does not mean that people are to be moved along predestinate grooves like trams or shuffled around hurdles like sheep. Ideally the planner is aiming to direct people’s movement in such a way that they see what there is to see with ease and in their own time. He must also ensure that the public does not get lost, tired, or bored with the whole affair.
James Gardner and Caroline Heller
Intersections are points of maximum turbulence. In pedestrian trafficway planning, such turbulence is often a positive quality, as in those places where excitement, activity, or high interest is desirable, or where perforce the flow of traffic is to be decelerated, or where, by plan intent, people are made to mill and churn and jostle about. The degree and nature of such ebullient hurly-burly may be planned, as in the marketplace, the trade show, the amusement park, or the country fair. When two or more intersecting streams of traffic are to be merged into one fast, free-flowing stream, the area of juncture must be widened and shaped to provide a smoothly swelling transition and an uninterrupted flow.
Pedestrian traffic as a moving stream. An analogy.
An intersection must accommodate and express the functions induced by the fact of intersection. Geographically, the place of the meeting of streams or rivers is strategically important. For here not only are the watersheds of two valley systems merged, but also the life and trade and culture that flow down with the streams. In Pittsburgh, for example, the Golden Triangle is centered for good reasons at the point where the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers meet to form the start of the Ohio. Here, as in most such instances, many interacting forces are engendered by the fact of convergence. The conjunction, whether of water, trade, culture, transportation, motor traffic, or pedestrian movement, introduces considerations that must be resolved or developed in the related land planning.
Reinforcement of walk curves and intersections. Short-cutting, with its consequent wear and erosion, can be precluded.
Casual foot traffic, like a quiet stream, takes a meandering course. Traffic that is passive by nature or preference is found where quiet water on a river would be found, in the lagoon or island-studded backwash and out of the mainstream or current. This sheltered lagoon character, with all its design implications, is germane to those many plan functions that are related to, yet out of, main pedestrian traffic streams. In the same way, the swift freedom of the channel or the sweep of the bend is clearly analogous to many planned landscape areas.
Random path layout
To describe or field-stake meandering paths, measurements to the centerline can be made by offset distances along a reference line.
Things Seen
Since walking is still the most frequent means of locomotion, most places and spaces are seen by the circulating pedestrian and from eye level. As we have learned, the line of movement may be fixed, or it may be undirected and free, allowing a number of alternative routes and a variety of viewing experiences. Slow movement engenders interest in detail. When we are in a hurry, we tolerate few delays, but if moving leisurely, we welcome deflection and distraction. We have little interest in motion and take pleasure instead in things seen or experienced.
The Base Plane
Pedestrian traffic moving on the base plane is sensitive to its textures, which determine the type and speed of foot traffic. A given texture not only accommodates a certain classification of use but may attract it as well, as in the following examples:
| Texture | Traffic |
| Natural granite, rough sandstone | The hobnailed boot |
| Packed earth, the field, the forest duff | The hiking shoe, the moccasin |
| Snow | The ski, the snowshoe |
| Ice | The skate, the crampon |
| Sand | The clog, the sandal, bare feet |
| Turf | The spiked or crepe-soled shoe, the cleated football boot |
| Bituminous paving | The tennis sneaker |
| Flagstone | The loafer |
| Cut stone, concrete brick | The business shoe |
| Polished marble | The dancing pump |
Variations in the ground plane. Landscape Architect M. Paul Friedberg and Partners; Gary Knight & Associates, Inc.; Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA; Barry W. Starke, EDA
Distance and Grade
Moving under our own power, we are conscious of distances to be overcome and the effort of climbing a grade. When these are negative factors, they are reduced insofar as possible by the arrangement of the plan. Apparent distances and grades can be reduced by route alignment, by screening, and by space modulation. Paths, for instance, can loop up or down a long, steep slope to reduce the apparent height, for the straight, unbroken climb to the top is in all ways more tiresome than gradual ascent from station to station along a path that angles up the contours.
Often, as we have noted, within a constricted complex it becomes desirable to increase apparent distances and heights. This again may be achieved in large measure by the manipulation of trafficways and sight lines or by the viewing of a peak from a pit, a pit from a peak, and a far corner from the longest diagonal.
Changes of grade requiring steps provide design opportunities.
Pedestrian traffic, being earthbound, is more of a flow than a trajectory. This flow may be induced, arrested, divided, pooled, channeled, directed, diverted, or accelerated by skillful planning.
Highways, streets, and even driveways, as plan elements, must be considered as lethal lines of force. These lines and their intersections are lines and points of smashups, crippling accidents, and death. If a high-tension line crossed a community with its wires stretched low or sagging within reach of children, there would be a storm of citizen protest. Yet unprotected highways slice freely through the landscape, and our cities and our suburbs are cut into senseless squares by murderous boulevards and streets. Why? In the name of all reason, why?
When the horse was discarded, the winding roads and streets over which he jogged were not discarded with him. The automobile inherited them. Some of them have been “improved” from time to time, but their basic features have remained unchanged. The result of pushing motor cars out over these old roads was at first simply a mild havoc and runaway horses, but later, “the traffic problem.” Today we are still rebuilding old roads that were constructed for another vehicle, instead of special roads for the special needs of the automobile. This simple fact is the key to the whole present-day traffic problem.
Norman Bel Geddes
There is, in the light of unprejudiced analysis, not one valid reason for our present checkerboard system of streets except for the obvious ease of laying them out. This seems a sorry excuse indeed. Our street and property patterns were, in fact, devised in the era of the horse and buggy and for the convenience of the surveyor. Because they so profoundly affect the patterns of movement, the quality, and very safety of our daily lives, it is high time for a change.
The street system of our cities and the road system of the region follow archaic patterns which go back to a time of beast drawn vehicles. The needs and practices that created the old thoroughfares are entirely alien to the auto. The old road necessarily ran through the villages, which provided resting places for passengers, a stage where horses could be fed and exchanged. Today those old regional routes—have become highways, and motor vehicles speeding along them carry traffic danger into every village and town.
Ludwig K. Hilberseimer
With our omnipresent automobiles we have found traffic friction increased from mere annoyance to a deadly phenomenon. In self-defense we have devised wider roads, separated roads, the overpass, the underpass, freeways, skyways, and multitiered interchanges. Engineers, in solving the very practical problem of moving people and automobiles through space, have created sweeping forms of awesome grandeur. Yet ever-new types of vehicles, trafficways, and communities must be developed if we are to domesticate the roaring, fuming, four-wheeled monsters that we have created.
Traffic Flow
In the planning of our highways and streets, we must conceive them as friction-free paths of vehicular movement. This is their primary purpose. Yet if we were to plot a typical street or highway as a force diagram, we would wonder how a more friction-studded, danger-laden, chaotic trafficway could possibly be imagined. We know, for instance, that each point at which the paths of two vehicles merge is a point of potential conflict and that each point at which they cross is a point of hazard. Obviously, the fewer such points, the better. Yet, with rare exceptions, our present trafficways are so laced and interlaced with mergings and crossings that their very function is precluded. How blind we have become in our conditioned complacency!
We spend more and more hundreds of millions of dollars to build more and more super highways to more and more remote distances so that more and more people may drive more and more rapidly until they come to the place where they must stop and wait and wait longer and longer—to get into the district where it is harder and harder and harder to move around at all!
Frederick Bigger
In our trafficways of the future, the grade intersection will be eliminated in every possible instance. Roads will be planned for fast, safe, uninterrupted traffic flow. Turning radii will be greatly increased. Rights-of-way will be widened and shaped to accommodate and contain all foreseeable and compatible roadway functions. Vehicular traffic of various types and speeds will be segregated and given separate and specially planned routes. Marginal intrusions will be eliminated. Innovative safety controls and devices will be planned with and built into the highways. High-speed transcontinental motorways will weave through the open country between our towns and cities rather than threading them center to center. Our residential, commercial, and industrial districts will be planned off to the side, protected and entered by widely spaced, free-flowing parkways or designated truckways. Multimodal systems of movement will be devised to interconnect polarized city centers and new satellite communities.
There will be in the future no roads or tracks which must be crossed at grade. Transportation and transit lines will be depressed or buried as free-flowing tubes—or lifted up above the earth that the goods or traffic they carry may glide along swiftly, safely, almost without friction.
A highway, road, or driveway is in itself a unified whole. It must be complete. It must be safe. It must be efficient. It must work well as a route of circulation and interconnection. It should also provide a pleasant experience of movement from point to point through the landscape. This useful and pleasurable quality is most evident when the right-of-way is aligned in harmony with the topography and is wide enough to accommodate all required physical and visual functions. How pleasant is the parkway with limits that extend to the rim of the valley through which it winds or with right-of-way widened to protect the sight lines from a sloping grade or ridgetop!
It can be reasonably expected that highways, roads, and driveways will long continue to be designed as the major means of access to most project sites. Each landscape area will be considered in relation to its accessway, and, conversely, each line of access will be conceived as an integral part of the thing or place toward which or away from which it leads.
In the interest of safety, efficiency, and economy the crossing of transportation routes by any other line of flow or trafficway should be avoided insofar as feasible.
Grade separation without interconnection is often desirable.
The left-turn underpass (or overpass)
Highway crossing provided without hazard or interruption of traffic flows.
In the Landscape
The contemporary highway with its adjunct approaches and structures is not only the most dominant feature of our landscape, it is also the most salient factor in our land and community planning. Once established in any landscape, a roadway becomes a potent feature and immediately changes the character of the land areas through which it makes its way. In most site-structure diagrams the roadway is the most dynamic line to which use areas can be related. Without doubt, the most telling advances in our future planning will be the diagramming of more reasonable relationships between our teeming trafficways, communities, cities, and the surrounding landscape. The automobile has rendered obsolete all prior concepts of land planning.
Pedestrian and auto separation. Barry W. Starke, EDA
This much cannot be denied the automobile: it has given us exhilarating freedoms of distance and time. We move about more readily than ever before. The automobile has, however, invaded our living and working areas, disrupted cherished pedestrian ways and places, and imposed a distressing double visual scale.
Have you ever conceived of a road which would allow no car to approach your own—which would hold you to your course without the danger of being struck or striking any object—where you could decide in advance how fast you would like to drive, and by maintaining that constant, effortless pace, arrive at your destination on scheduled time? It sounds impossible? But you can have such a road. The means of bringing it about are available. The idea is thoroughly practical. It can be built to work in conjunction with an automatic control installed in your car. The highway you use can be made as safe and pleasant at all times as it would be if your car were the only automobile upon it.
Norman Bel Geddes
Far too much of our landscape is presently experienced at the same time by persons in speeding automobiles and by people moving about on foot. These two forced relationships are incompatible. This omnipresent dilemma has hardly as yet been recognized, let alone resolved. Ignoring it has caused us increasing and sometimes insurmountable problems; perhaps its study and resolution may bring the first plan forms and patterns fully expressive of our automotive age.
In the new landscape for living, all motor and pedestrian traffic will be segregated. Our living and working areas will be readily approached and serviced by the automobile, but they will be oriented to, and interspersed with, attractive, refreshing pedestrian spaces unpenetrated by roadways. Walking will again be a pleasure when it is freed from the sound, sight, fumes, and danger of rushing traffic and when it leads us through places and spaces designed for walking and congregating. And our motorways, designed solely and specifically for free vehicular movement and riding pleasure, will seem a dream on wheels.
The relationship of land use areas and buildings to trafficways is discussed in other sections of this book. In considering vehicular circulation, however, it would be instructive at this point to list the key principles to be applied in the location and design of roadways, approach drives, motor entrance courts, and parking compounds.
The Roadway
Every roadway, be it a rural drive or an urban expressway, is a unique work of design and will have its own regional and functional characteristics. In planning trafficways of any type or magnitude, however, the following principles will pertain.
Determine the most rational alignment. This implies efficient connection. The roadway will weave between and provide access to activity centers and areas of population concentration. It will follow existing boundary lines and borders insofar as feasible. It will respond to the topographical forms and vegetative growth and fit into the landscape.
Accommodate the traffic. The eventual carrying capacity is based on the best possible projection of development within the service area of the roadway corridor. If the full facility is not to be constructed initially, the right-of-way should be adequate for all future needs.
Preserve the natural systems and scenic superlatives. A first requisite in this regard is a right-of-way of ample and variable width. It will allow for all foreseeable lanes, shoulders, side slopes, and drainageways without crowding. It will expand in places to include such natural landscape features as streams, ponds, groves, and rock outcrops. It will also provide buffering to screen unsightly uses and to protect and enframe desirable views.
Provide the optimum cross section. Lane widths and their number will depend upon projected traffic types and volumes. When traffic volumes are high, the topography is rough, and if existing conditions and land values permit, it is usually desirable to plan for separated roadways. Earthwork and construction costs can often thus be reduced to more than recoup the additional land taking. The advantages include the reduction of the roadway scale, the elimination of headlight glare, the reduction of side-slope height and width, and a more natural landscape fit.
Adjust the horizontal curvature. Major high-speed roads are designed with radius curves and interconnecting spirals. Lesser roads are often designed with tangents connected by radius curves at their points of intersection. Minor roads and woodland trails usually just feel their way along the land and between the trees and other obstacles without benefit of geometry. The important point is that in every case the planned centerline is to be field-staked and adjusted to avoid unforeseen obstructions and problem areas and to take full advantage of the topographical setting and views.
Adjust the vertical profiles concurrently. The best vertical alignment rolls with the contours to require a minimum of clearing, grading, and erosion control. It must provide clear sighting of oncoming vehicles and points of roadway entry from the sides. It must also ensure the positive drainage of the roadbed and the adjacent swales or gutters. The degree of rise or fall is an important safety factor in inclement weather.
Design for stability. A well-built road like a well-built structure starts with a solid foundation. In the construction of any roadway it is essential that the base be stable and well drained and that the successive courses laid thereon be interlocked and well compacted. The total section, including slab or wearing course, is designed as a unit to best withstand the local climate and support the anticipated loadings.
Provide a suitable driving surface. In texture, the surface will give grip under adverse weather conditions. In color it will be at once heat-reflective, easy on the eyes, and differentiated from the hues of the road-edge soils and materials to give visual definition. On major roads this definition of the traveled roadway can also be achieved by edge and centerline striping. The use of native crushed stone, coral, or gravels as surface aggregate is always appropriate.
Build in the safety features. Reduced gradients, wider curves, controlled access, and elimination of on-grade crossings are all conducive to safety. Other protective features include guardrails, reflectors, and clear directional signage. At special nodes such as major off-ramps or interchanges, roadway illumination by nonglaring light sources can be helpful.
Keep the structures simple. The best highway structures—bridges, overpasses, underpasses, retaining walls, and culverts—are usually direct expressions of their purpose, the locality, and the materials of construction. In some local situations, as in parks, rough-dressed native stone and rough-sawn timbers may be used effectively. Usually, and especially on highways, unadorned concrete and structural steel are more appropriate.
Coordinate the informational system. Good directional signage is easily visible and complete. It gives the right information at the right place and in a clearly comprehensible form consistent with the character and design speed of the roadway.
Use indigenous plant materials. The best planting of any roadway is achieved by the preservation of all possible existing native vegetation. Selective thinning is usually needed to articulate the road edges, enframe the views, and create a pleasantly modulated volumetric enclosure. Supplementary seeding and planting are in the main installed for slope protection and erosion control.
In the open, uncultivated countryside a highly effective procedure is to seed all disturbed roadside areas with a hardy strain of wild grass. An undulating border is then mowed with a sickle bar, while the naturalized area is left uncut to receive a crop of windblown seeds from the adjacent meadows and woodlands. Trees, shrubs, vines, weeds, and wildflowers combine in time to produce a maintenance-free roadside of indigenous beauty.
Every highway is bordered by an idle strip as long as it is; keep cow, plow and mower out of these idle spots, and the full native flora, plus dozens of interesting stowaways from foreign parts, could be part of the normal environment of every citizen.
Aldo Leopold
Maximize the landscape values. In every case a well-designed roadway will be aligned through the landscape in such a way and be so constructed as to preserve and display the best features and views while attaining a harmonious fit. A good roadway provides comfort, interest, and pleasure to the traveler. A good roadway is also a good neighbor.
Even within urban areas the legally prescribed right-of-way should be widened to include and preserve such natural features as ponds, streams, ravines, or groves of trees, as “furnishings” to the freeway.
In considering alternate highway locations, weight should be given to that one which provides the best scenic attributes. Here alignment A has a visually pleasant path. Alignment B does not.
Arterial: six-lane divided. Six-lane divided arterials carry massive volumes of high-speed traffic. They interconnect and provide access to the large metropolitan communities and districts. While pedestrian walks are not compatible, minitransit and reserved bus lanes may share the right-of-way.
Slip lane in the arterial median.
Whenever a roadway transects a natural landscape form, disruption and/or costly construction is the result.
The Approach Drive
In the selection of a proposed site for any project, the off-site approaches are a primary consideration. What one experiences in coming or going may be a decisive factor. If, for example, the approach to an office center or residential community required passage through a freight yard or deteriorating neighborhood, one would look for other choices. Conversely, if the traveled route would lead through a forest preserve or past an attractive shopping court, this would be a positive factor.
The psychology of arrival is more important than you think. If it is not obvious where to park, if there is no room to park when you get there, if you stumble into the back door looking for the front entrance, or if the entrance is badly lighted, you will have subjected your guests to a series of annoyances which will linger long in their subconscious. No matter how warm your hearth or how beautiful your view, the overall effect will be dimmed by these first irritations.
Thomas D. Church
In locating a project on any site, the line of approach will influence or dictate not only the position of the structural elements but will probably also determine the relationships of the site use areas as well. Assuming that an approach drive is to be developed between an existing circulation drive or street and a proposed building, let us consider the design requirements. All else being equal, it should:
Announce itself at the passing roadway. The driveway entrance is best located where it wants to be. This is at the point of the most logical penetration or highest visual interest along the fronting property line. The driveway should be well identified by street number or appropriate entrance sign. It should be considered in relationship to adjacent driveway entrances and nearby landscape features.
It will invite one in with recessive forms, as in a cove or harbor. In plan layout and site treatment, it will set the theme for all that lies ahead. Often it will introduce at the gateway the materials and architectural theme that will be used throughout the site development.
The pull of the harbor. The successful drive approach and forecourt will suggest a receptive cove. Usually the most attractive point on the cove periphery will be the entrance door or gate.
Provide safe access and egress. The driveway entrance is set at a point which will ensure safe sighting distance up and down the passing street or roadway. It is not to be located just below a steep crest or around a sharp curve. Abrupt turning movements are avoided, and, where possible, a glide-in entry with a generous turning radius is planned. On larger projects a deceleration lane is often provided if traffic volumes are heavy. A right-angle roadway entrance connection is best for two-way sighting.
Most residential streets (forced to comply with rigid subdivision standards) are grossly oversized and by their width destroy the livability so much to be desired.
Increased street width means increased speed, hazard, cost, and disruption.
On-street parking is a principal cause of traffic-related accidents.
Develop a pleasant transition. We design an attractive space and theme sequence from driveway throat to building entrance to parking court and return. The drive width may vary, swelling at the drive entry, at the curves, and at the forecourt, always suggesting traffic flow.
We devise a transition from the character of the highway to the character of the project and structure, be it a residence, an apartment tower, a business office, a shopping mall, or a school. We move from the scale of the passing road to the scale of the building entrance court, from high velocity to repose. At one instant, for example, a person may be whisking along the trafficway at whistling speed; two minutes later the same person may be standing contemplatively at the building entrance. Between the two conditions are telling changes in mental attitude that must somehow be agreeably resolved. By the design of the driveway, the visitor must be prepared for the experience of arrival.
Be logical. The approach should present the driver with a minimum number of decisions. It is to be remembered that traffic tends to the right but also to the easier fork and to the easier grade. The pathway should be obvious but restrained. This is to say that it must read clearly to the driver while intruding as little as possible on the natural landscape.
Take full advantage of the site. The alignment of the driveway presents an excellent opportunity to plan for the visual unfolding or realization of the site—its topography, cover, vistas, views, and better landscape features. It should be aligned to reveal the pleasantly undulating edge of a woodlot or planting, the modeling of ground forms, and the counterplay of tree trunk against tree trunk, mass against mass, texture against texture, and color against color as one moves along.
Move with the contours. To preclude unnecessary disruption, the drive should flow with or angle easily across the contours. Often it may follow a broad ridgeline. Again, it may move up a drainageway to the side of and preserving the natural flow line, thus gaining positive drainage at one side while enjoying a degree of protection and concealment. Because a driveway and its gutters often provide for the storm-water flow from large areas of the property, the grades should permit surface flow without undue erosion. It should also provide for the gravity flow of any contiguous storm or sanitary sewers.
The approach loop. Turn (at left) is contrary to normal flow. Approach from the center or right induces the correct turning movement.
Avoid splitting the property. The driveway alignment will be such as to reserve as much land as possible in an undisturbed condition. The planner will strive to retain the best landscape features while defining cohesive use areas.
Be economical in layout. The driveway will be kept short for economy of construction and ease of maintenance. Other considerations include the relative ease of excavation, a balance of cut-and-fill materials, and the alternative costs of drainage structures or bridges.
Be safe. Avoid crossing other drives, walks, bicycle trails, or active use areas.
Be consistent. Keep the quality of the approach drive consonant with that of the site, the proposed project uses, and the structures.
Reveal the structures gradually. Design the approach road to make the first impression of the property and buildings attractive. A building is usually more interesting if seen from a curving drive approach, to show its form and extent before attention is centered on detail. Much of the nature of a structure is thus revealed by a planned exposition of its sculptural qualities from a drive that leads past or around it. Open successive views to the structure, each from the optimum distance and position and with the best attainable enframement.
The Entrance Court
The entrance court is an integral part of both the approach drive and the building. It terminates the one, introduces the other, and unifies the two.
The driveway should never appear to collide with a building but should rather sweep toward and past it.
Approach from the right. Since in the United States a car moves in the right lane of traffic, we have developed taxicab and private car conditioning that tells us, as we near a destination, to chart a course that will bring the right side of the vehicle toward the building entrance. This right-curb approach is valid mainly because of two-way streets, which make pulling to the left curb inconvenient, illegal, or dangerous and usually all three. Where possible, plan a one-way loop. One-way traffic at a building entrance is always preferable. It is safer. There is also a psychological advantage, for a driver with right wheels to the curb feels superior and, for some reason, very clever.
Accommodate the left-hand approach where necessary. On some sites an approach from the left is the only way possible. If this is planned, we try to arrange sufficient depth to permit the driver to swing past the entrance and circle back to achieve the favored position. If, however, the drive must perforce lead in from the left, we do what we can to make this feasible by making the point of discharge obvious, by providing a landing platform opposite the building entrance, or by planning for discharge within a paved forecourt.
Consider the climatic conditions. The approach court and building entry are planned for all conditions of weather, darkness, and light. Visitors are to be protected from storm winds, rain, and glaring sun. Since paving is hot in the summer and cold in the winter, the building is not to be planned as an island in a sea of paving. We avoid the long walk or the long view across paving toward the building entrance.
Avoid the need for backing. The backing of vehicles near entranceways, especially in areas where children may be congregated or playing, is to be scrupulously avoided.
In the mid-twentieth century, the focus of highway and street design in the United States was on moving automobiles and commercial motorized vehicles from one place to another as quickly as possible. The unwritten code for other forms of transportation using streets and highways, such as pedestrians and bicycles, was “User beware—use at your own risk.” Many localities around the country even gave automobiles, rather than pedestrians, the right-of-way at intersections.
Beginning in the 1960s, planners and designers recognized that the focus of the living, working environment on the automobile was neither healthy nor desirable. They began to examine the possibility of reintroducing pedestrian traffic, as well as other modes of transportation, into streets and roadways as a means of creating better, more “livable” communities.
Proposed streetscape accommodates multiple modes of transportation and low-impact design. Mia Lehrer + Associates
Street, highway, and transportation design had long fallen under the purview of bureaucrats who were resistant to change, so progress in this area was slow. However, with renewed interest in more livable communities and movements such as New Urbanism, Smart Growth, and Traditional Neighborhood Development, public opinion has brought about some change in the attitudes of the transportation and engineering community. Today the design of streets to be used by multiple forms of transport, including motorized vehicles, bicyclists, and pedestrians, in a safe, aesthetically pleasing way is known as complete streets.
Components of complete streets include bicycle lanes, traffic-calming devices, street trees, medians, reduced lane widths for motorized vehicles, mass transit pullouts, sidewalks, well-defined crosswalks, pedestrian signals, appropriate lighting, and measures for accommodating disabled travelers. Evidence is mounting that, if designed properly, complete streets are safer, promote better health, and increase adjacent land values.
Beginning in the early 1970s, many state and local governments enacted laws and regulations that require or encourage complete-street policies. Such policies are also now encouraged by the U.S. Department of Transportation.
Parking Compounds
Parking compounds provide an essential link between vehicular circulation ways, approach drives, and their termini. They are designed for the safe and efficient storage of cars. When space and site conditions permit, they are usually located beyond the building entrance as one approaches by car. Sometimes, however, they may serve in themselves as the approach court to one or more buildings. Whatever the planned function, it is to be accommodated and clearly expressed.
Provide off-street parking. Single and clustered buildings are benefited by the provision of internal parking courts.
Test all plan possibilities. The siting of parking areas is best achieved by the study of alternative shapes and flow lines in relation to the building and topographical features. The most prevalent parking layouts are easily diagrammed for adaptation and testing.
Approach, pass, and park. Ideally, a driver will approach with the building to his or her right, discharge the passengers, continue to the parking space, and return on foot by a pleasant and convenient route to the doorway. Ideally, too, upon departing the driver would be able to pick up the car and circle back to passengers at the building entrance.
Screen the parking areas. A direct view from the entrance court into the parking area is not usually desirable. Except for commercial or business office projects, a well-placed parking or service compound is convenient but incidental to and secluded from the building.
Consider multiple use. A parking compound may be located for shared use by several buildings or activity areas concurrently. Or it may serve one purpose in daytime and another for evening or off-peak hours. Parking areas, when not in use for their primary purpose, may also serve other functions such as recreation, assembly, or temporary storage. Accommodate the vehicle. Since the parking court is planned for the efficient storage of automobiles, it must be designed with full understanding of the maneuvering requirements of the car. These dictate gradients, turning radii, aisle and stall widths, and paving textures, which may well vary to differentiate lanes of movement and areas for parking storage.
Consider the disabled. The parking compound with its backings and turnings is an area of special hazard for pedestrians with impaired vision, hearing, mobility, or other handicap. For them, bays with widened stalls are to be reserved near building entrances. Moreover, as an added safety precaution and to preclude the random movement of vehicles, the traffic flow pattern is to be kept simple and well defined, with the entire area illuminated. Those with parcels to carry, strollers to wheel, or children in tow will be grateful.
Accessibility must be incorporated into circulation planning. Dirtworks, PC
Consider the handicapped
Reserve stalls of extra width, with depressed curb, near the destination.
Segregate service traffic. Service vehicles range in size from small motorized carts and pickups to larger delivery and refuse trucks. They require convenient access to building entrances, collection stations, mechanical rooms, utility vaults, and similar locations. When practical, service vehicle circulation and parking areas are separated from passenger automobiles and are designed to accommodate the larger turning radii, maneuvering space, and holding patterns required.
Plan for emergency access. Fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, and utility service vans require building access. The site plan must ensure that these vehicles can get where they need to go. If direct road access cannot be provided, walks and other paved areas may be utilized, provided they are designed with this purpose in mind.
Travel by Rail, Water, and Air
Aside from the automobile, the traditional means of transporting people and goods have been trains, planes, and waterborne vessels. Their routes, crossings, and points of convergence have set the locations of our towns and cities and provided their outlying regions with the essential outlets for agricultural products and manufactured goods.
The railroads, ships, and airlines have served their purpose well. Recently, however, they have experienced increasing problems in their stubborn insistence, and sometimes forced requirement, that they maintain their original all-purpose role of moving goods and people concurrently. The two functions are incompatible. As new forms of conveyance by rail, water, and air emerge, the carriers will be highly specialized, as will be their routes, equipment, and terminals. Improved means of transit, transportation, and distribution will change established concepts of land use, community, and city and require a whole new planning approach.
Travel by Rail
Passenger travel by rail in its most recent forms is known as rapid transit. Some types are streamlined versions of the old interurban or commuter trains. They move on fixed rails on grade, underground, or elevated. Some vehicles are equipped with steel wheels, some with wheels that are coated. All are highly automated and can be computer-controlled. Other types use linked cars which are suspended from or propelled along a single or multiple glideway. All systems have been improved to a point at which they are light, bright, environmentally sound, and highly efficient. They can move people in groups from point to point within a region far more rapidly and at less cost per mile than the passenger car or bus. Why, then, hasn’t rapid transit been more widely accepted?
First, it does carry many more people to more places each day than is generally realized. The advanced systems of San Francisco, Toronto, Montreal, and Washington are promising examples, as are the guided systems of Disneyland and Disney World. Where rapid transit has not succeeded or has failed to realize its full potential, there are common causes at the root of the failure. For instance:
The dwellings within the communities served are too widely dispersed. In the typical single-family-home suburb, it often takes longer to drive to or be driven to the station than to ride from station to destination.
The transit connections are not direct. At the downtown end of the line, the station is often blocks away from the office, shopping, or cultural centers.
The stations are inadequate. They are often grim. Old railway stations or other obsolete structures are sometimes converted to the new use without remodeling or thought for the convenience, comfort, or pleasant relaxation of the waiting passengers.
The passing scenery is ugly. Some routes, using the old railroad trackage or right-of-way, provide the most extensive slumming excursions extant. By established railroad custom, the public must ride the same route as the tank cars, flatcars, crated chickens, and bawling calves, past the rear doors of the soap factory, junkyard, and slaughterhouse. It is not a good way to attract or hold would-be commuters.
Multiple modes of transportation. Barry W. Starke, EDA; J. Brough Schamp/Wallace Roberts Todd; © D. A. Horchner/Design Workshop; Barry W. Starke, EDA
The Transit Potential
The mass movement of people at high velocities between areas of residential concentration and regional activity centers has manifest advantages. Among these are predictability, safety, and savings in time, land area, and energy. The era of transit is at hand, perhaps as much by necessity as by reason. It will come into its own as a flourishing travel mode when, but only when:
The transitway is planned as a means by which to structure or restructure the region and new types of residential communities and urban activity cores.
The experience of travel by rapid transit is conceived in terms of safe, efficient, and pleasurable movement from center to center.
The transit facility is programmed and planned as a complete and interrelated whole. In other words, communities, stations, vehicles, routes, and termini are planned together as a smoothly operating system.
The solution to public transit is the planning of activity centers to which people can ride together.
Regional rapid transit. Energy conservation (economic necessity) may soon force us to do what reason so far has not.
Travel by Water
When we think of a boat in motion, we think of a smoothly gliding hull, a curving wake of tumbling water, and dancing light. The course of a boat, like the water through which it moves, is fluid and undulating. Having no fixed track or roadway, it curves in wide arcs and must be given ample space for maneuvering. Even at rest at its mooring, a boat seems mobile. All plan lines relating to boats at rest or in motion should suggest this streamlined fluid mobility. In every way possible, smooth flow should be encouraged and obstructions eliminated. The heavy, the rough, the jagged, the sharp are out of place. They are destructive and impeding in fact and disturbing by connotation.
Being exposed to the elements and the tides, a boat requires for its mooring a sheltered harbor or a protective pier. Harbor and pier provide such shelter by topography, structure, or a combination of both. They are points of transition between the water and the land, where the mobile and free meet the static. The fact of this meeting might well be developed and expressed in all plan forms. Indeed, no great stretch of the imagination is required to understand that any structure related to water and boatways gains when the full drama of the relationship is exploited.
A summer cottage on a lake or bay, for example, is best conceived as a planned transition from land to water. It relates the solid to the fluid, the mineral to the aqueous, the confined to the expansive, and strong-cast shadow to shimmering light. Often it provides also a transition from car to yacht, yawl, or rowboat. It is terraced down; it overhangs, overlooks; it screens off and then subtly or dramatically reveals; it embraces, ramps or steps into, invites view or movement from land to water and water to land. It accentuates, by lucid structural relationships, the highest qualities of land and water. At the land approach, it is of the land; at the water’s edge, it is of the water.
A riverside restaurant, if worthy of its site, will orient to the river and its traffic and display it in all its motion and color. On the landward side, it will take its form from the features of the land and from the passing walk or street or highway. On the riverside, it will be shaped to the line of the river’s flow and to the curve of approaching craft. It is a rewarding experience to dine in such a waterside restaurant, with its glass-walled dining room projected and elevated to catch the flowing river view, or at shaded tables set on a terrace or deck beside the river wall, or at tables spaced out on the pier beside the bobbing boats and lapping water. In the same way, with the seaside hotel, the waterfront park, the bridge, the pier, the harbor, and the lighthouse, our site plans and structures will express the land-and-water meeting.
Water travel. Illustration courtesy of the National Capital Planning Commission’s Extending the Legacy Plan. Rendering by Michael McCann.
Boatways and waterways, when well conceived, have few detrimental characteristics and many attractive features. Large bodies of water ameliorate the climate, enliven the landscape, and provide a direct and inexpensive means of travel and transportation. Rivers follow the valley floors. Usually, their easy gradient encourages travel along their banks as well as upon their surface. They, together with their feeding streams and rivulets, promote a lush growth of vegetation and the most pleasing landscape environment of the regions through which they pass. All waterways attract industrial, commercial, and residential development. How can they all be accommodated? Which should have preference? The solution here is not usually one of blanket prohibition, for such prohibitions tend to dam up overriding pressures, but is rather one of planned relationships. Lucky the region or city that is empathetically related to its rivers, lakes, canals, or waterfront.
Travel by Air
The view from a plane unfolds a modeled and checkered landscape of towns, hills, lakes, rivers, valleys, farmland, field, and forest moving slowly under the wings. We are impressed with the continuity of the landscape. We sense, perhaps for the first time, that every object in the landscape is related to the whole. Sight distances are great. Visible areas are enormous. Objects, to be seen, must be simple, bold, and contrasting in colors or textures. They are most often read from the air by their shadows. All essential plan forms or objects requiring recognition from the air, and especially at the airports and their approaches, must be so emphasized.
Travel by plane is flight and is seemingly effortless while one is airborne. This smooth, flashing speed accentuates the frictions and delays of the airport and cross-country travel beyond it. The frictions of port transfer and of port-to-city distance must be drastically reduced by improved land and transportation planning. The competitive port of the future will have fast and easy access to other transportation centers and to central discharge points. There are other problems to be overcome. Among them, the deafening din at the airport aprons is mounting, decibel by decibel, to a point at which it will soon become unbearable. Sometime before that critical point or very shortly after, the pressure of economics and the advance of science will have reduced the ear-shattering roar to a pleasant whistling hum.
An airport should rightly be planned as a port. Here again, in this air harbor the land meets an opposite. This meeting and all induced transitions are to be analyzed and expressed. All current or foreseeable requirements and characteristics of planes, at rest or in flight, are to be accommodated. Further, the joint use of airfields by cargo and passenger planes with their varying speeds, needs, and capabilities will no longer be tolerable. Transport planes will be related to industrial and distribution centers. Passenger planes and ports will be linked to centers of population and urban activity. From the surrounding towns and cities new exclusive or classified approach roads will be necessary, as will a system of strategically placed air taxi stations. In this light, we can consider an airport primarily in terms of a continuing and ultimate experience of travel in which passengers can arrive by car, park, check baggage, and enplane (or, conversely, arrive by plane, pick up baggage, and leave by car, limousine, or tramway) in one swift, pleasant, uninterrupted swoop. There are, of course, many other considerations in the planning of an airport.
Airports require large areas of flat topography or land that can be readily modified to give long, level runways. Because such areas are often of necessity remote, the tendency of airports is to bring to the spot as many port facilities as possible. Hotels, theaters, conference rooms, libraries, and even recreation, amusement, and shopping centers have been planned into the airports as revenue producers. In the interest of increased efficiency, all extraneous uses must be limited in the future.
A municipal airport is no longer a landing strip, a windsock, and a ticket booth. The modern airport is an extremely intricate complex of myriad related functions. These must be studied to determine their optimum relationship to the cities and the region that the airport serves. Like all projects planned in the landscape, the airport must be studied in terms of minimizing its negative impacts and increasing its benefits.
The need for increasing numbers of persons to get from here to there, usually in a hurry, has given rise to a whole array of vehicles and devices that have been grouped together in the category of transportation and circulation systems. Without them, many of our newer governmental, business office, commercial centers, and even zoos and botanic gardens could no longer function. In type and size they vary according to the distance and height to be traveled, the number of passengers to be carried, and the rate of speed required.
People mover. Barry W. Starke, EDA
Moving walkways, chairways, and escalators. These are a low-speed, step-on-and-off means of movement that can be used alone or in combination, indoors or out.
Exterior escalator. Barry W. Starke, EDA
Automated cars. Electronically controlled automated cars that move on rails or guideways are, in effect, horizontal elevators. Used singly or linked, they can transport groups of people at moderate speeds for distances ranging from several hundred yards to several miles. They are smaller campus and in-town adaptations of the longer-range and faster subway, glideway, and monorail transit vehicles.
High-speed monorail. Tom Fox, SWA Group
Small bus trains. Jeeps with trailers may be open to the sky or provided with full, all-weather protection. Bus trains are used frequently in recreation or exhibition areas and are often equipped with public address systems.
Minibuses. Small buses of all sizes and shapes have longer ranges, higher speeds, and greater maneuverability than bus trains. Some minibuses, used to link airport waiting rooms with distant plane pods, are of “maxi” proportions, carrying many dozens of passengers and hoisting them by hydraulic lifts to the level of the plane door.
Long-range buses. Long-range buses on separate busway routes are an increasingly popular form of suburban-urban transportation. They make stops at strategically located community waiting shelters or at one or more peripheral parking fields and then provide express linkage on reserved lanes to downtown centers.
Cable cars. Traversing steep slopes or mountainsides (as in Bogotá and Caracas) or skimming high overhead on suspended aerial cables (as at Cologne in Germany), cable cars can leap chasms, rivers, and ranges with safety and ease.
Cable cars traverse steep slopes and rugged terrain. © D.A. Horchner/Design Workshop
Bicycles, tricycles, and mopeds. While self-propelled, these vehicles are not to be overlooked as people movers. It is only recently that, for the first time in many decades, the annual sale of bicycles in the United States has exceeded that of automobiles. Where off-road, off-sidewalk paths and trails are provided, especially as lineal parklike connectors to community and regional centers of attraction, bicycles and electric carts blossom into use.
The electric cart. The modified golf cart on three to four wheels, with all-weather provision and carrying from one to a dozen passengers, is becoming popular. It will provide the ideal future link between home and transit station, where it can be easily stored and recharged while awaiting the transit rider’s return. The use of such carts, together with cycles for intracommunity travel, would reduce the need for internal roads and reliance on the more costly, more space-demanding automobile.
Integrated Systems
It might be thought that the proliferating assortment of people conveyers would lead to utter chaos in their weaving in and out, up and down, and back and forth on crisscrossing routes and trajectories. Far from it. These vehicles provide, at last, the components needed to fit together a rational system of multimodal transportation. They provide the key to the structuring or restructuring of the regions and metropolitan areas around intensive multilevel transit-transportation hubs. These concentrated activity centers, freed of automobile traffic and the divisive interchanges, streets, and parking lots, can become again urbane and delightful pedestrian domains.
The sterile vehicular trafficways and parking lots will be replaced by terraced plazas, garden courts and malls, and refreshing in-city parks through which people can move about on foot or be transported from level to level and center to center in year-round comfort.
Automobiles will swish through the open countryside on controlled-access parkways, freed of trucks and buses. They will provide safe and pleasant alternative means of connection between the urban and regional nodes, where they will be stabled at the periphery.
New integrated systems of circulation give promise of innovative and vastly superior concepts of land and community planning.