Showing posts with label Mapping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mapping. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Thoughts on Housing in Tottenham

This area features Victorian terraced houses very heavily, of which there are hundreds of thousands in the UK, and which make up vast swathes of the housing stock in London. In this block there are 30 such houses on Reform Row and Dowsett Road, built by developers at the end of the nineteenth century to house the workforce of the burgeoning industrial city. There are other types of houses in the block too, 1930s terraced houses built by developers for the private market on Albion Road and Parkhurst Road, and 1940s-50s red-brick council houses in the North East corner on Scotland Green and Parkhurst Road built after the second world war during the period of mass social house building after the inception of the welfare state. These typologies of house are repeated throughout London, and in fact the block contains a neat cross section of the most common house types in London with the exception of some mid-twentieth century terraced ‘townhouse’ typologies, found in 1960s-80s housing estates.




The most diverting aspect of all these different house typologies is not their difference, but their extreme similarity. Looking at estate agents’ particulars it is apparent that every floor plan includes rooms labelled ‘kitchen’, ‘living’ and ‘dining’, and almost without exception these rooms will be situated on the ground floor (except in some late 20th century ‘townhouse’ typologies, of which there are none in this block). Sometimes a wall will separate them, sometimes there will be rooms with a joint function labelled kitchen/living/dining, or living/dining and so forth. Then, upstairs we find bedrooms and a bathroom or separate bathroom and WC. The two levels will be connected by a staircase that is within a small range of sizes in width and proportion. The circulation in houses is also remarkably uniform in its arrangement. Although on the ground floor many housing typologies have an entrance which leads directly into the living room or kitchen, minimising or removing the hallway altogether, on the upper floor the bedrooms and bathroom are almost always accessed from a hallway. On the rare occasions when a bedroom is accessed from another bedroom, or the bathroom is accessed through a bedroom, this significantly affects the value of the property.

It is clear from comparing the plan of the Victorian house in its original form that although the way life as lived in British houses has changed, it has changed remarkably little. The most significant change is the attitude to privacy, and which parts of the house are publicly accessible. In the original plan, the ‘parlour’ to the front of the house, would have been the room in which guests were received. All rooms behind this (the kitchen, scullery and back parlour) were family rooms in which every day life was lived, yet which could not be seen from the street, nor would be seen by visitors in the parlour. The knocking together of rooms blurs this distinction, and brings both ‘everyday life’ functions and ‘for best’ functions into one place. This reflects a dramatic change in the way that everyday life is lived – the actions of running a household (like doing washing, for example) are no longer messy, noisy and dirty. Instead they are contained by electric domestic appliances such as washing machines, which can happily coexist with a conversation, and even become objects of pride to show off to visitors. Similarly, fitted kitchens with gas stoves mean that all the detritus of cooking is concealed, there is no dirty coal required for heat and cooking can take place in front of guests without the host compromising the smartness of the house.

Perhaps the most drastic alteration is that all houses now have an inside bathroom, where the toilet, sink and bath or shower are in close proximity to one another. In the case of the Victorian house plan, this has caused a problem that repeats itself all over the UK. Given the convention that bathrooms are upstairs, the L-shaped layout of the house with a return that houses the kitchen on the ground floor and a bedroom on the upper floor, the location of the bathroom becomes problematic. Various solutions to this have been attempted, including the splitting of the bedroom in the return into two halves, one of which contains a bathroom the other a single bedroom. Another solution is to add a bathroom to the rear of the house, behind the kitchen and accessed from the kitchen.



This is more common in houses which had a bathroom added during the early-mid twentieth century, as the way in which houses were used had not changed greatly, and the kitchen was at the ‘private’ end of the house. This is much less desirable now, and reduces the value of the property, because much more public life is carried out in the kitchen. It may also have had something to do with the earlier arrangement of having the WC in the garden and accessed from the garden, but immediately adjacent to the other ‘dirty’ elements of the house (the kitchen sink and food preparation area). If looked at in terms of whether or not an activity is ‘dirty’, and whether is produces effluent (both in terms of a physical product but also in terms of smells), it makes more sense to have the bathroom immediately next to the kitchen. The migration of the bathroom up the stairs is indicative of a change in attitude to cleanliness. It also coincided with the invention and widespread use of the flushing WC, which allows human waste to be rapidly transported elsewhere leaving only a clean bowl of water.
Thus, the Victorian house lends itself to alteration and transformation in a number of ways. Other housing typologies lend themselves to less successful alteration and examples here are concentrated on the one house typology. The reason for this is that this example encompasses typical aspects of house renovation and change, and the point is made more clearly when focused on one originating house typology. These examples were drawn from a collection of house plans from rightmove.com, which hail from all over London, but the variations are similar, since the originating typology is very similar. Rooms can be knocked together to create bigger rooms, extensions can be built, and bathrooms can be moved. Extensions are usually added to the rear end of the return, but sometimes they fill in the return, making an interior room in the centre of the ground floor that has no windows.
The maintenance of the function of houses behind the high street through alteration in response to changing desires, needs, affluence etc. means that the residential streets in between major arterial routes have remained remarkably stable since they were built. The occupants may change, but the use of the streets for people to live in remains the same. Because the housing typologies can respond, the population can shift dramatically (ie. as new waves of immigration occur), without the apparent physical fabric which accommodates them changing at all.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Mapping the Riots


Here's an interesting thought:

This is a screenshot from http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/datablog/interactive/2011/aug/09/uk-riots-incident-map, focussed on north London, around Tottenham Hale. There is a clear correlation between the high streets and the rioting activities, particularly around the A10 just south of Tottenham Green, where three separate serious incidents occurred on the main road.

The reasons for this concentration on high streets is likely to be severalfold. First, the ease of access by transport/car/foot. Second, for looting, high streets are more plentiful than suburban residential roads. Third, unlike an industrial estate (as exists close to Tottenham Hale station), a high street has lots of ways to escape and a crowd can break up very quickly as it scarpers up streets off the surrounding streets.

The Guardian is at present, in conjunction with the LSE, carrying out a study in which participants in the riots will be interviewed, and the 2.5million Tweets about the riots will be analysed http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/series/reading-the-riots. It will be very interesting to find out how far the rioters traveled to access the place of rioting, as clearly everyone did not just step outside and begin rioting outside their own front door.

Sunday, 22 May 2011

A Picture of Tottenham Hale




Research and methodology development drawing of Tottenham Hale, drawn from imagination and personal experiences. Drawing is the first in a series, intended to explore the relationship between physical forms of streets, buildings, scale and social/political organisation in three case study areas, which represent urban typicalities along the A10 high road: Tottenham Hale, Dalston and Bishopsgate. 

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Systems of Classification

I have been busily engaged for some weeks in the mammoth task of making a map of all the uses in the vicinity of Tottenham Hale, according to the system of use classes which structures our planning system in the UK. This was inspired by out discussion with Liza yesterday, who had mapped the buildings identified by Dalston residents as 'important', and defined their 'use class' according to the Dewey Decimal System.


This is a very interesting idea. A couple of weeks ago, I tested a system where I equated the planning use classes with something a little intangible - 'levels of socialness' ie. the amount which each type of building facilitates people being sociable with one another. For example, in my 'levels of socialness' scale, offices are the most social place. So, the [simplified] use classes look like this:

A1: shops
A2: services (estate agents, hairdressers, laundrettes, taxi firms and beauty parlours)
A3: restaurants and cafés
A4: drinking establishments
A5: 
hot food takeaways
B1: businesses (offices, light industry), general industrial, storage and distribution, including scrapyards
D1: non-residential institutions (schools, libraries, surgeries)
D2: assembly and leisure (theatres, cinemas, swimming baths, gymnasiums, theatres, nightclubs)



And the re-arranged use-classes according to 'socialness' look like this: 

B1: businesses (offices, light industry), general industrial, storage and distribution, including scrapyards
D1: non-residential institutions (schools, libraries, surgeries)
A3: restaurants and cafés
A4: drinking establishments
A2: services (estate agents, hairdressers, laundrettes, taxi firms and beauty parlours)
D2: assembly and leisure (churches, theatres, cinemas, swimming baths, gymnasiums, theatres, nightclubs)
A1: shops
A5: 
hot food takeaways




Ignoring for the moment the obvious serious flaws in my classification (like, for example, the problem of groupings), re-classifying the categories makes the information look very different. For example, it starts to look as though the major routes are lined with the least sociable uses, although there are obviously further variables which are relevant, for example, people probably visit shops more often, but stay for much less time than they would visit a church.


So, perhaps it is an obvious thing to say, but the system of classification is very, very important. Again, it's obvious, but you cannot show shades of information for which there is no classification. This relates directly to the masterplan. The master cannot plan for classifications which don't exist, hence Muf's fantastically clever use of the Dewey decimal system, which has an almost endless number of subtle subcategories. The choice of categories also speaks volumes about the chooser. For example, I visit neither the gym nor the church, so to group these things together is unproblematic for me, in a way which I suspect would not sit comfortably with a regular user of both. The use classes themselves, as a system, define very particularly the kind of cities they allow to be planned,which is a fascinating idea.


As a next step, I am going to attempt to classify a street according to the Dewey Decimal system. Wish me luck!

Me & Muf in Dalston

Liza Fiore of Muf came to visit the PhD seminar yesterday, to tell us about their work in Dalston. Their project(s) are a response to the Dalston masterplan by Matrix , which was, according to Matrix' website, commissioned by the Borough Council to 'serve as a basis for planning and investment decision making'. Muf's reaction to the bread sweeping moves of the masterplan was a much finer grain of response, developed gradually in a reciprocal process, with interested (and disinterested) Dalston stakeholders. Through a process of mapping, conversations and workshops, they generated topics (eg. that there is no green space within 500m of Dalston junction) which because concrete proposals. These proposals exposed points of conflict amongst the stakeholders, encouraging greater participation as relationships of trust developed between they and Muf.

This process clarifies a problem of imbalance of scale and power amongst interest groups, which is ubiquitous in our social and economic system. A masterplan is so huge, so all-controlling (this essence is even contained within the word 'master' plan), that only a very powerful group could ever begin to hope to fight against it. This results in no response from small stakeholder groups - after all, why try and move a mountain? Liza made this point very saliently; millions were spent at Daslton Square to barely a peep of resistance, yet hours and great anger are spent discussing how ten thousand pounds should be spent in one of Muf's micro-projects. The masterplan is also very vague, in complete opposition to the spatial and formal specificity of one of Muf's works. Again, this creates a conflict in a way that a masterplan can never do, because people have something solid which stimulates opinions and emotions. Maybe a parallel could be drawn with the way that charities campaign - they always focus on the narrative of one suffering individual; rather than on an intangible notion of thousands of people suffering, which is impossible to imagine and therefore easy to dismiss - either as irrelevant to our own lives, or impossible to change, because it is so huge.

The point here is that the work that Muf does, indeed all participatory projects, are a distraction from the real source of power and control. Individuals are alienated from the grand scale process of city-making, but given access to decisions about relatively paltry sums, on a very small scale. I think in the present context it is undoubtedly better to have people like Muf slaving away to improve soulless, placeless masterplans, but there is something very fundamental wrong with the system that this is all we can offer.

The work also brings to mind questions about how the personal attributes of the researcher and their social position influences the research (or architecture, or place making, or whatever it is that Muf are doing). This principle applies to the type of place or project a collective like Muf chooses to respond to - Dalston, and latterly Hackney Wick. These are both places colonised by artists; with edgy bars and all the trappings of the moments before a thorough and complete gentrification. I suspect there is a reciprocity between the involvement of a group like Muf, and the gentrification process. There are other places (lots) and other masterplans, which are just as bad, and just as desperate for advocates to try and ameliorate their effects. There is an ethical judgement made in choosing such places, above others. The fact that these particular ones are the ones which are attracting the focus of all this time and effort, I would suggest, is worth questioning and worth further discussion.

. . . . Which is not to say that I am not enmeshed in the economic process of gentrification and change as deeply as anyone. My husband and I have just bought a flat in Dalston, just around the corner from the new 'cultural quarter'. Before too long we will be sipping lattes, riding fixies and sporting our curious glasses along with the rest of them; helping along the process of wealth polarisation, and making money as our flat rises in value, pricing out the people who have lived in Dalston for generations.