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What, then, makes a city? In his study of New Haven, Connecticut, Douglas
Rae approaches what he calls the "urbanist" city. "full of
citizens who were committed to it—by choice, by chance of birth, by
economic necessity, or by some combination of these . .
. A fully grounded city citizen would work full time within her
city, would live her nights and evenings there, would educate her children
there, would routinely shop in stores there, would worship there if
anywhere, would live in a social network pinned down on the city.
This is the city that Michael Johns refers to in Moment of Grace: The
American City in the 1950s as exemplified in the 1950s, the city at
its peak: "The 1950s were the last time the city dweller regularly
visited downtown. Mayors would no longer refer to downtown as "the
hub and nerve" of the metropolis. Never again would downtown embody
the industrial age in a reassuring mass of brick and terra cotta, in
detailed cornices and cast-iron lamps, in trains and trolleys, and, as a
final touch, in the steely arrogance of the new cars and
skyscrapers."
In his The City in History Mumford is more abstract: "The
chief function of the city is to convert power into form, energy into
culture, dead matter into the living symbols of art, biological
reproduction into social creativity." In Cities, journalist
John Reader comments that "the integral role of the city in human
affairs runs deep—well beyond the streets and buildings and into the
realms of conscious and sub-conscious awareness that makes us who we
are."
Approaching this another way, in his classic The Image of the City,
Kevin Lynch provides an abstract definition: "[l]ike a piece of
architecture, the city is a construction in space, but one of vast scale,
a thing perceived only in the course of long spans of time." Lynch
urges us to consider "the mental image of that city which is held by
its citizens." His emphasis is on the physical form of the city, with
"the physical environment as the independent variable," He
develops this theme of "legibility" of a city "where
objects are not only able to be seen, but are presented sharply and
intensely to the senses."
James Howard Kunstler in The City in Mind writes that
"city-making is an art rather than a product of statistical analysis
or social service casework. . . " Mumford notes that one of the
themes in defining a city was developed by those who sought to argue the
ideal city as a work of art: "[i]n part this effort marks a
confidence that the processes of reason could impose measure and order on
every human activity . . . Could not the city itself be treated as a work
of art, subject to design and deliberate reconstruction?" And Witold
Rybczynski in City Life writes simply that "cities are
artifacts . . . they are man-made things." Joseph Rykwert in The
Seduction of Place approaches this from the other side of the river,
so to speak. He defends the city as "a precious, essential and
inalienable part of the human achievement," to which some have held
up "a distorting mirror."
As the fictionalized Marco Polo observed in Italo Calvino’s speculative Invisible
Cities: "Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each
city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order,
distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents." In his
introduction to his great poem Paterson, William Carlos Williams
made a similar comment. He writes of the poem "that a man in himself
is a city, beginning, seeking, achieving and concluding his life in ways
which the various aspects of a city may embody-if imaginatively
conceived-any city, all the details of which may be made to voice his most
intimate convictions."
FOR
A SELECTED BIOGRAPHY OF RESOURCES ON THE CITY, CLICK HERE.
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