Learning from the Mistakes of Bryant Park

BP Before

Bryant Park Before the Restoration

BP After

Bryant Park, from the same angle, taken After the Restoration

The details matter!

There are two widely held mindsets that often stand in the way of public space improvements. The first is the assertion of objections to proposed actions or changes based on hypothetical predictions of negative outcomes drawn from assumptions that aren’t based on actual observations or data. An example is the automatic reaction to proposals for public seating — that they will become a magnet anti-social behavior – particularly for the homeless. This is something that “everyone seems to know,” that, actual experience with public space demonstrates isn’t necessarily the case.

The second is that successful public space or economic revitalization strategies that work in one place aren’t transferable to another place – because one of the two places is somehow unique or different. I have been told that the success of Bryant Park is unique because it is in Manhattan, or that it is in midtown – and therefore programs and strategies that worked there won’t work in other places. In fact, before Bryant Park reopened, we were told that many of our ideas were impossible because of the park’s unique location. Moveable chairs, outdoor movies, elaborately planted gardens all wouldn’t work at the corner of Sixth Avenue and 42nd Street, we were often told. Now all of those strategies seem obvious successes.

But nothing about Bryant Park’s success was inevitable, and a number of the elements of the park’s redesign were failures (although none of those were among the recommendations made by William H. (“Holly”) Whyte in his 1979 analysis of the park’s problems). The important take-away from this is that these failures were quickly identified and new programmatic or design solutions were created to address them. At the center of great public space management is an iterative process of observing how real people use public space and adjusting strategies to deal with issues as they arise. It is difficult to admit failure, particularly in a political environment, which comes with the territory of public space. But successful public space managers have to be nimble, identify problems and attempt new solutions until they get it right – and be willing to recognize what isn’t working.

The Lawn

People love broad expanses of green grass. They enjoy sitting on them, picnicking, playing ball, lying in the sun or reading. Because of this, in many, if not most, public space developments or restorations a well-maintained lawn area is a key ingredient. A uniform, lush, green spread of grass that is open for use communicates to the public that a space is welcoming – and draws visitors in. It also communicates to potential users that the space is under social control – that the lawn is being taking care of and as a result using the lawn is safe.

But in Bryant Park, the two-acre lawn was initially a failure and it took four seasons to get it right. There was nothing inevitable about the horticultural success of the Bryant Park lawn! The lawn as specified by the landscape architect was designed to support a high level of traffic – like a football field. The soil was mostly sand and drained quickly. We found it difficult to maintain – and in order to keep the lawn properly watered the surface was often wet – which users found unpleasant. Because the soil didn’t hold nutrients, the lawn also needed regular fertilization – something we didn’t have the in-house capacity to do or regulate.

It took us a couple of seasons to figure this out, and then quite a long while to find the person with the right expertise to help us. Ultimately, we developed a close relationship with a Long Island based landscaper who brought in a soil expert they knew. Over a period of months they amended the soil with organic material, which held nutrients and water better, and selected a seed mix that could sustain heavy foot traffic. We had to carefully monitor the lawn to make sure it wasn’t too long or cut too short, or too wet or too dry – and to know when to close it to allow it to recover after heavy use – and we eventually got the hang of it.

Gravel Paths

Part of the 1991 redesign was gravel paths around the lawn and gravel beds among the trees. A large pea gravel was specified by the landscape architect – which looked absolutely fabulous – but as it turned out was a nightmare to maintain. Wheelchairs and strollers couldn’t move though it, it moved around in the rain and needed to be moved back, kids (being kids) liked to throw the stones – and most frustratingly, as it began to disappear through use, we couldn’t find a match to replace it.

After a couple of seasons we replaced it with something finer, and ultimately settled on fine dirt paths. They aren’t as elegant; but they work.

Wind Concerts

Our first season, in 1992 we planned a series of events – so that something was going on five days a week in the Park. We were concerned that after decades of being perceived to be unsafe, and having been closed for construction for four years, when we took down the construction fences the drug dealers might return along with no one else. But as Holly Whyte taught us, good uses drive out bad – and we programmed the Park with that in mind.

My pet project was wind concerts by ensembles of the orchestra of St. Luke’s featuring unamplified music written for the out-of-doors; like the Mozart and Brahms wind serenades. In my mind, these concerts would be beautiful, elegant and set a high standard for the park for civility.

From the very first, people complained that they couldn’t hear them. And in fact in order to hear them, you had to be sitting relatively close to the performers and have sufficient powers of concentration to enjoy what were wonderful performances. Except, the folks at St. Luke’s and I were the only ones who were “getting it,” and because the concerts were so quiet, they had a minimal impact on the sense of activity in the Park. I had to swallow hard, admit defeat and the wind ensemble concerts were eventually amplified and only lasted a couple of years – and were replaced by something louder and more popular. Lesson learned.

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These are just a few examples, and I plan to include more in my next post. But the message here is that in improving and creating public spaces you need to take risks, but small ones that can be corrected over time as you observe how people use the space. You need to be prepared to watch and listen to your “audience” and recognize those mistakes and, following Holly Whyte, make changes to make the space comfortable and appealing based on your close and careful observations.

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