Suburban Nation - Andres Duany [126]
cd
People speed on multiple-lane one-way streets because there is less friction from opposing traffic, and because of the temptation to jockey from lane to lane. Whichever lane you are in, the other seems faster. In contrast, when two-way traffic makes passing impossible, the driver is less likely to slip into the “road racer” frame of mind.
One-way streets should generally be avoided in retail areas because they distribute vitality unevenly. For example, traffic planners in Miami turned two streets in Little Havana into a one-way pair, such that people drive to work on SW Eighth Street—“Calle Ocho,” the retail heart of the district—and drive home from work on SW Seventh Street, which is entirely residential. The problem with this configuration, in addition to the fact that drivers are always jockeying for the fastest lane, is that people don’t shop on their way to work; they shop on their way home. Unsurprisingly, merchants on Calle Ocho were devastated. Decades later, city leaders are still scratching their heads over why this once vibrant main street continues to struggle.
ce
There is an observable hierarchy of pedestrian streetscapes as follows, best to worst: shopfront, porch, stoop, yard, blank wall, parking lot, parking structure.
cf
Actually, there is indeed a point at which a city can satisfy its parking needs. This situation can be found in many small, older American cities and is almost always the result of the same history: at mid-century, with automobile ownership on the rise, a charming old downtown with a wonderful pedestrian realm finds itself in need of more parking spaces. It tears down a few historic buildings and replaces them with surface parking lots, making the downtown both easier to park in and less pleasant to walk through. As more people drive, it tears down a few more buildings, with the same result. Eventually, what remains of the old downtown becomes unpleasant enough to undermine the desire to visit, and the demand for parking is easily satisfied by the supply. This phenomenon could be called the Pensacola Parking Syndrome, in honor of one of its victims.
cg
One of the more unusual aspects of our master plan for Stuart, Florida, was our categorical elimination of the on-site parking requirement, which was preventing local developers from renovating existing buildings. Four years after the completion of the plan, the number of downtown businesses had risen by 348 percent and the town was able to lower its tax rate (Eric Staats, “The Renewal of Stuart,” 10a).
ch
More precisely, they are built to attract investors as much as shoppers, which means that their developers focus on absorbing a large market share of an already existing market. In this scenario, something, somewhere, has to give. Unlike housing, which benefits from being located in a stable physical environment, retail has a history of constant change that grows out of its competitive nature. It is worth noting that Main Street’s demise began long before the advent of the suburban shopping center. The department stores of the latenineteenth century were in fact quite destructive to small merchants. The twentieth century has witnessed an iterative history of retail cannibalism, even though certain organizational principles have carried from one generation of retail to the next. For more information on the predatory approaches of retail developers, we recommend Margaret Crawford’s article “The World in a Shopping Mall” in Variations on a Theme Park.
ci
Many of these techniques were