Paris’ Viaduc des Arts and the Promenade Plantée

“A good city is a mix of memory and invention” — Robert Campbell, The Boston Globe

While federal and provincial stimulus funding for infrastructure has essentially come to an end as Canada’s economy has bounced back with some vigor in recent months, dialogue about public infrastructure remains a hot topic. During the downturn infrastructure investments were used to drive employment but were also intended to provide our regional economies with the tools they will need to succeed economically in the decades ahead. While elsewhere in the world (Australia, America, Asia, and Europe, most notably) the discussion focused on visionary projects – economic “trump cards” for a globalized world – like high speed rail, our dialogue in Canada has been more subdued. Whether the investment is in rail, or roads, or parks, or cultural institutions there is always a debate around the cost of the investment vs. the long-term value it will bring. But even in considering value, rarely is the potential reuse of infrastructure taken into account.

In urban design there is a long-standing principle called “robustness.” Robust spaces are those that can adapt to changing uses over time. For example, how does a space adapt if a roadway turns into a pedestrian-only street in the future?  Do we take this and other design principles into account when building new infrastructure? In North America do we ask ourselves how a given piece of infrastructure can be reused when it is no longer needed? Not typically, no.

With all of the buzz this past week about the opening of the second phase of the High Line in New York City – the superb reuse of an old railway corridor cutting through the city – I thought I’d take a moment to write about infrastructure reuse in general, and the value (economic, social, environmental and cultural) infrastructure can bring to communities. I also thought I’d point out that New York is not doing anything new. It is simply implementing, on a smaller and less comprehensive scale, what Paris France implemented years ago with an abandoned railway corridor of its own.

Let me share some history and observations about Paris’ Promenade Plantée and the Viaduc Des Arts.

From Viaduct to Promenade

This story begins in 1853, the year the Paris-Strasbourg Railway Company obtained the land and approvals to begin construction of an elevated portion of track from Place de la Bastile, the terminus of the new railway line, to the eastern edge of the city. The line, planned in 1833 and commissioned in 1859, was almost 500 kilometres long, linking the two cities together. Many portions of the line are still in use today but the corridor has been upgraded to accommodate France’s TGV high speed rail system. Within the City of Paris though, the introduction of the SNCF’s RER “A” commuter rail line in the 1960s quickly made the elevated portion of the line obsolete.

Sitting abandoned, the elevated “Viaduc,” its 64 vaults, and the railway station at Place de la Bastile began to fall into disrepair, impacting the local economy of the “craftsmen quarter,” its artists and all those engaged in the cultural industries there.   Two options were considered by the L’Atelier Parisien d’Urbanisme, (APUR) Paris’ urban planning authority:

1. The cost-side approach: demolition of the Viaduc to accommodate new development and to re-establish the continuity of Rue de Lyon and Avenue Daumesnil.
2. The long-term value approach: construct a promenade above the Viaduc and renovate the vaults and several parcels of grey- and brownfield along the former railway line in order to recognize the area’s heritage while creating new opportunities for businesses and future development.

The second option was initially written off as being unrealistic, too expensive, too time consuming and too challenging. But, with enough time, the APUR and public ultimately recognized the value proposition of rehabilitation — it would indeed lead to broader reinvestment in the neighbourhood over time and would create a variety of spaces that could support a wide range of different uses and activities.

How this change of heart came to pass is a bit unclear to me as I’ve had some trouble researching this part of the story, but there may even be a Canadian connection. This is my best hunch. When Place de la Bastile was selected in 1982 as the site for the new state opera house a design competition for the new building was held. The winning competition entry belonged to Carlos Ott, a Uruguayan living in Canada, whose design included a promenade, or pathway system, integrated into the site plan that would make use of the Viaduc.

Construction on the new Opera Bastile and promenade atop the Viaduc got underway within a year. The City appears to have quickly changed its development regulations to ensure that the promenade could extend onto the surface beyond the Viaduc without being interrupted by new development.   The City also defined an “officially publicly useful” perimeter around the viaduct and many of the parcels acquired along the route.

The original construction of the Viaduc had divided neighbourhoods and created large portions of orphaned space. The promenade project was seen as a way to reconnect these neighbourhoods and spaces along the corridor by re-establishing access beneath the vaults and by converting orphaned space to accessible public space – parks and squares – and into offices and new apartments that would connect onto the promenade. The inclusion of apartments and offices were an excellent way to ensure that the promenade would have sufficient everyday use and “eyes on the street” to make it safe for those traversing its 4 kilometre length.

In 1994 the first vault was fully restored and by 1997 all 64 of the vaults were restored, with many converted into shops and studios. What did this mean for the project? The Viaduc des Arts was born. Above the Viaduc was the trail system, Promenade Plantée, a peaceful park space intentionally void of commercial activities while at street level new storefronts present residents and visitors with a wide range opportunities to engage with the districts’ craftspeople.

St. Pancras Stn. and the Midland Hotel: Architectural and Cultural Heritage Preservation in London, UK

Last summer it was announced, at long last, that Toronto’s Union Railway Station would be seeing a long-overdue makeover.  Many an architect and planner has cited Washington D.C.’s own Union Station as a pinnacle of how these old facilities can be infused with new life. (Never mind the fact that it took a train crash in 1953 to collapse the upper level platforms and create the great opening where today the retailing area is in the Washington DC station). I certainly hope we achieve what was achieved in Washington, but I also hope we don’t have our blinders on to what the rest of the world has been doing in terms of renewing old railways infrastructure.

I’ve been to Washington D.C. and, yes, their train station is nice. And, yes, it probably is one of the best North American examples of a revitalized railway station, but it wasn’t until I was visiting France last year before I discovered a station regeneration project that really grabbed my attention. I am very interested in railways and wanted to experience the Eurostar high speed trains and so, I boarded a 6:30am train (with a return ticket in my pocket for that evening) and zipped through the Channel Tunnel to London.  The Moment that I stepped off the train into St. Pancras Station, the London Terminus for the Eurostar, it immediately struck me as one of the finest railway station regeneration projects to date. It is beautiful; it is efficient and easy to move through; it has become a true destination within London; it connects local bus and underground service to destinations across Europe in a matter of hours; and it was seen as a tool to create value in the local economy, for citizens, and as an investment to re-energize an entire district of London.

When London’s Channel Tunnel Rail Link was to be constructed into London the British Secretary for the Environment directed that it approach London from the east. The Secretary believed that new clean, fast rail could be leveraged as catalyst to drive investment back into a long neglected portion of the city, and placed the importance of this above the wide range of challenges associated with an eastern approach to the city.  By this time, St. Pancras had long become redundant and had fallen into disuse and disrepair. There had even been a campaign in 1966 to tear it down that had thankfully failed due to the efforts an activist Poet Laureate. It was subsequently turned into government office space with walls knocked down so it could be divvied up as per government space usage guidelines. But the Environment Secretary’s eastern approach for the line suddenly made St. Pancras  a viable candidate for the terminus of all international rail travel into London and as the London home for the Eurostar and a range of new domestic rail services.

From what I understand, this lower concourse was carved out from the main train shed hall during the regeneration — it was not an original feature of the building.

In the redesign of the train shed a lower concourse retail floor, and passport processing area for international travelers, was carved out of the main train shed hall– a bold and beautiful move reminiscent of the Boston disaster and revitalization. The public art is incredible. A replica of the original clock by the original clock maker, DENT, hangs in the train shed proudly. A large statue of a couple in an embrace reminds those passing through that railways stations are meeting places and hold significant emotional value also. But the most incredible piece of art is a very modest sculpture of the man who saved the station from demolition in 1966, Britain’s poet Laureate Sir John Betjamen, who stands looking out over the train shed, coat blowing in the wind as if it were still open to the elements as it was in those days. This piece is a lovely reminder of the heritage of this majestic building. It is also a reminder that cultural heritage is an important component of any community, city, civilization and is worth fighting to save.

As I was learning about the history of St. Pancras Station what I didn’t realize, in my daytime round-trip visit to London from Paris was the history behind the magnificent Midland Hotel. The Hotel, attached to the station itself, was revitalized 100% with private money after an Act of Parliament was past ordering that it be restored for its original use when HS1 (High Speed 1), Britain’s domestic high speed rail service, was given the responsibility of restoring the railway terminal.

In conclusion I think what the most impressive thing about this project is, is that they let the original building sing. The original architecture is the showcase, not new architectural features — those have been added with a huge amount of taste and are all very subtle. Even the overhead power cables for the trains themselves are supported by beautifully sculpted, but subtle structures that double as stands for platform lighting. It is a brilliant revitalization and there is much for the world to learn from this project.

While I’m just an interested urbanist, and was at the time an interested tourist, I highly recommend that you read journalist Peter Watts’ fantastic article, The Man Who Saved the Midland Hotel. I first read this article on the Eurostar on the trip but only found it online recently. He’s got some wonderful photos of the inside of the Hotel on his site (link below). Do check it out.

Of the six major London stations, strung out like new gates to the old city along the Euston Road, there is none quite like St Pancras, where all Eurostar journeys begin and end. Much is made of the station’s emblematic steel-and-glass roof, but that delight will soon be upstaged by the refurbished wonder that lies outside the station walls. The Midland Grand Hotel – even when sheathed in scaffolding and protective hoardings – is a breathtaking sight. ‘It’s a fantastic building,’ says a besotted Harry Handelsman, the property developer. ‘It’s amazing, such a legacy, such an important structure.’

A vast red-brick neo-Gothic vision of spires, arched windows, clock towers and weathervanes, the Midland Grand looms over the Euston Road more like a Transylvanian castle than a hotel. But guests have not been welcomed since 1935, when the hotel was converted to offices, desecrated internally and left to rot. Renaissance has been a long time coming, but will be confirmed when the hotel reopens after 76 years of neglect and near destruction….

Read More on Peter Watts’ Blog.

All Photos are Copyright (c) Iain Myrans, 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Redefining & Reinventing: The Case of Portland

This is an article that I wrote which was published in July/August

issue of the Ontario Planning Journal (Volume 24, No 4. 2009).

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“If you want to be rich,

go to Seattle or San Francisco.

If you want to be prosperous

you come here.”

-Mayor Sam Adams, Portland, OR, USA.

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This is the second of two articles examining how American cities have redefined and reinvented themselves following the collapse of their local economies. As with my previous article on Pittsburgh, research for this piece comes from on-the-ground observations as well as interviews with key individuals in planning, economic development, business and politics.