As architects, designers, and planners, we sometimes take ideas, problems, and situations and make them more complicated than they really are or, as Poor Richard says, “compress the most words into the smallest idea.” But when it comes to the architecture of our cities, sometimes the simplest solution really is the most elegant and, perhaps even more importantly, the idea behind that solution is best stated simply so. Poor Richard, An Almanac for Architects and Planners excels at what is not typical for our profession, namely using the fewest words to express the biggest ideas, in a decidedly witty manner.
The breadth of inspiration Major draws upon for Poor Richard’s sayings and witticisms is inspiring: Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Oscar Wilde, and Bill Hillier; the last of whom had a huge influence on Major’s career and outlook. This barely scratches the surface as the fingerprints of Le Corbusier, Andres Duany, Alvar Aalto, Steve Mouzon, Mies van der Rohe and Robert Venturi are also evident in many of the sayings in this book. However, it is Mark’s own genius, extraordinary wit, passion for good design and mastery of the history of planning that shape the pages of this hilariously righteous epitome of 21st century sense and sensibility.
Many of the ideas are common sense, more still are deeply profound, others require much thought on our part. Throughout the Almanac, Major uses humor to otherwise soften what are some hard truths for our profession. The ideas often question ‘conventional wisdom’ about the architecture of our cities. Ultimately, Major’s goal is a simple one, to compel us, as professionals, to examine more heartily our acceptance of current laws and practices as they have profound implications for the civil aspect of civilization and its lasting impression on the future.
Poor Richard, An Almanac for Architects and Planners is a useful and handy tool for any architect, designer, or planner to have on their desk and reference every day of the year for precisely this reason, ably assisted by the chiaroscuro of illustrations presented in a stark yet elegant manner. The message of Poor Richard, AN Almanac for Architects and Planners is clear: begin to think differently… and more carefully than ever, about our role as stewards of civility.
By Julia Starr Sanford
April 6, 2013
Amelia Island, Florida
Julia Starr Sanford is founding principal of Starr Sanford Design, a residential design and development firm based in Amelia Island, Jacksonville, and Rosemary Beach, FL. She is Founding Director of the Sky Institute + Foundation for the Future, a non-profit organization dedicated to building sustainable communities in the US, Australia, Bahamas, and Central America. She is a founding partner in StudioSky with Steve Mouzon and Eric Moser and member of the Congress for New Urbanism. She is a graduate of the University of North Carolina and Georgia Tech.
Poor Richard, An Almanac for Architects and Planners by Mark David Major, featuring Foreword by Julia Starr Sanford is available from CreateSpace (click here) and Amazon (click here) for $9.99, 136 pages, 52 black and white illustrations.
My friends and I partied in a Soho pub called the Sussex Arms on a Saturday night. The next Saturday night, the IRA set off a nail bomb, killing one person, in the men’s room of the same pub. My aunt and uncle visited me in London. I eagerly showed them around the city on a beautiful spring day. The personal tour included visiting historical sites in the City of London. During this tour, we passed the Baltic Exchange on a couple of occasions. The next day, the IRA set off the bomb that destroyed the Baltic Exchange. The IRA set off three bombs on a Thursday along the same stretch of road my ex-wife and I walked every Saturday on the way to and from the grocery store. Of course, I was aware of new learned behaviors on my part while living in a city under siege by the IRA. This included being naturally suspicious of unattended bags and packages on the London Underground and elsewhere. After I returned home, I became aware of other learned behaviors. To this day, if I am walking along a street and see an unmarked parked van, I have to restrain myself from crossing the street to distance myself from a possible threat. The first time I realized I was doing this was in Palm Coast, Florida. I laughed at myself for subconsciously thinking the IRA might want to bomb Palm Coast. More importantly, it represented learned behavior from living in London for nearly a decade.
In the weeks after September 11, 2001, I visited English friends living in Atlanta, Georgia. Naturally, we discussed the events of September 11th within the context of our shared experience living in London with the constant threat of IRA terrorism. Make no mistake: the IRA were terrorists. They engaged in indiscriminate bombings designed to murder innocent civilians. This is the very definition of terrorism. In any case, my friends and I looked out the window of their downtown apartment in Atlanta, marveled about the neat row of trash cans spaced every 20 feet along the street, and wondered why they had not been removed. We talked about our travel experiences in the aftermath of September 11th. I admitted the presence of the National Guard armed with machine guns in American airports was comforting; not so much because of fear in the aftermath of September 11th but because it was more consistent with my European experience over the previous decade. My friends and I agreed that the United States was not ready if Al Qaeda decided to adopt IRA tactics. In the subsequent 12 years, this has been a source of occasional worry for me. I wondered, when is Al Qaeda (or any other terrorist group, foreign or domestic, organized or the proverbial ‘lone wolf’ fruitcake) going to realize how much damage they could really do by following the lead of the IRA? In 12 years, I have seen precious little to indicate we the people are ready for a sustained assault on thousands of the ‘soft targets’ across this country, designed to truly terrorize the general population on an everyday basis. Luckily, Al Qaeda and everyone else remained fixated of ‘spectacle terrorism’, designed to drive international news coverage into a feeding frenzy (terrorism by media proxy)… until Monday.
It is time ordinary citizens became more vigilant, to develop learned behaviors that, in themselves, might prove equally effective in guarding against acts of terrorism. After all, as big as the government is, there are still more of us citizens than government bureaucrats. The most effective act against terrorism on September 11, 2001 was not a presidential decision, government policy, or military action. It was an act of vigilance and bravery by ordinary citizens on United Flight 93. Ordinary citizens appear to have learned this lesson in the air. Isn’t about time we learned the same lesson on the ground?
For example, they generally discuss what they describe as “Landscape Urbanism” without much detail. They are far too kind to reveal what, I suspect, is probably an outright disdain for this approach to serious urban problems. Landscape Urbanism only exists because it is politically expedient and offers policy makers/politicians the appearance of doing something (and feeds the financial coffers of consultants) when, in fact, it is usually a useless solution that avoids the real problem all together. What is really interesting about their historical analysis is where industrial land uses were not located; namely, along the riverfront at the edge of the Woodward plan. This suggests the seeds of Detroit’s urban decline might be traced back to the early 19th century. Large-scale industrial land uses may not have been allowed to develop along the riverfront of the Woodward plan. If the industrial land uses along Davison/Grand had come to be located along the riverfront instead of the northern periphery, Detroit may have been better positioned to manage its transition from an industrial to a post-industrial city, as other cities have accomplished to varying degrees of success.
“Call the police, I’m sure it must be a crime,” turned around and walked back the way we came out of the neighborhood, all the while dutifully carrying my doggy poop bag and carefully navigating through multiple piles of dog shit in the neighborhood common areas. Needless to say, Izzy and I will never be walking in that neighborhood again (not that it was ever likely anyway).
