Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it supposed to be a traditional pastime for the elite – or elites – to surround themselves and those who live nearby with beautiful things?
After all, most of the world’s remarkable architecture was put together either commissioned by the elite or carried out with their approval. Until very recently by historical standards, one of the elite took an active role in urban planning. It was one of their hobbies.
Throughout history, from grand palaces and churches to, starting in the 18th century, residential buildings, the elite was always involved, making suggestions or even financing the construction. The result was typically aesthetically pleaasing: they had a keen aversion to ugliness. They resented it. Beautiful architecture fosters positive emotions.
So, what happened?
The concept of the boulevard originanted in France in the late 17th century, during the reign of Louis XIV, the Sun-King. Originally, a boulevard was designed to be a broad, open street with green spaces and trees, providing a leisurely sceneic environment for strolling and socializing, while also accommodating some vehicular traffic. More often than not, it included walkable central medians.
In Manhattan, Park Avenue was once such a boulevard. Elite residents who lived on or near it likely used it for promenading – did they not?
Everything changed in 1908, when in their infinite wisdom urban planners decided to create additional automobile lanes. The path and benches were removed, the median was narrowed and turned into a lawn. No more walking, no more socializing.
This might have seemed like a good idea at the time – to some people. But what did the elite, a significant portion of the local population, think about it? Did they at least protest? I don’t know.
Similar transformations occurred globally. Paris, renowned for her boulevards, saw similar changes. Today, only a few boulevards in that city retain their walkable medians.
Back in New York, a phenomenon known as “ugly growth” began in earnest following World War Two. It continues to this day: old buildings, unless landmarked, are raized and replaced with faceless depressing “matchboxes” and “pencils.” The elite is silent. Do they no longer care? Who knows.
In the photo: Park Avenue: before and after the transformation.
