Demolition near l’Opéra in Paris, 1877, photo by Charles Marville
Those of us who imagine a Greater Greater Washington understand that the region’s population growth is a force that we can harness for great good. More people will mean more of the people and places that together make a great city: more shops and services, more exciting and innovative companies, more tax revenue, more frequent transit service, and yes, more buildings.
Yet many in Washington not only deny that growth has benefits, they deny that it is occurring, and deny that it will have tremendous consequences for our built environment.
One oft-repeated line heard from the (small-c) conservative crowd is that height limits have worked to keep Paris beautiful. That comment ignores a lot of painful history: the mid-rise Paris that we know today was built not by a democracy, but by a mad emperor and his bulldozer-wielding prefect. As Office of Planning director Harriet Tregoning said in a recent WAMU interview, “Paris took their residential neighborhoods and made them essentially block after block of small apartment buildings… if we were to do that in our neighborhoods, we could accommodate easily 100 years’ worth of residential growth. But they would be very different neighborhoods.”
A haunting exhibition of photographs by Charles Marville, currently on view at the National Gallery of Art, offers us a glimpse at how this change manifested itself in Paris. Marville was hired by the city government to document the systematic demolition of central Paris’ low-rise neighborhoods, the construction of new mid-rise neighborhoods (the ones we know today) in their stead, and the widespread displacement of the center’s low-income residents to the urban fringe — perhaps culminating in the bloody Commune revolution of 1870. (Numerous books have been written about the era, notably “Transforming Paris,” by David Jordan.) There were technological limits on buildings in that era, too: elevators were slow and expensive, and the new water mains could not supply satisfactory water pressure to the upper floors of many buildings.
Not dissimilarly, downtown DC’s horizontal march has steamrolled numerous low-rise neighborhoods in its wake, from Chinatown to Foggy Bottom. Now that only a few blocks are left for downtown to grow into, office buildings are muscling into Shaw. This is only natural for a mid-rise city: Paris’ mid-rise urban fabric superimposed on DC would spill outside the diamond, vastly larger than the existing downtown.
That path of destruction is why most other growing cities in this century (i.e., built-out but growing central cities, from London and Singapore to New York, Portland, Toronto, and San Francisco) have gone the Vancouver route and rezoned central industrial land for high-rises. This method allows them to simultaneously accommodate new housing, and new jobs, while keeping voters’ single family houses intact. By opposing higher buildings downtown, DC’s neighborhoods are opposing change now, but at the cost of demanding far more wrenching changes ahead: substantial redevelopment of low-rise neighborhoods, skyrocketing property prices (as in Paris), or increasing irrelevance within the regional economy as jobs, housing, and economic activity get pushed further into suburbs that welcome growth.
Among large North American cities, only Toronto has joined DC in making a concerted effort to redirect growth into mid-rise buildings along streetcar lines — and only as an adjunct strategy in addition to hundreds of high-rises under construction. (The two metro regions are of surprisingly similar population today.) Yet there, just like around here, neighborhoods are up in arms at the very notion.
DC cannot put a lid on development everywhere — downtown, in the rowhouse neighborhoods, in the single-family neighborhoods, on the few infill sites we have left — and yet somehow also accommodate enough new jobs and residents to make our city reliably solvent, much less sustainable. The sum of remaining developable land in the city amounts to 4.9% of the city, which as OP demonstrates through its analysis, cannot accommodate projected growth under existing mandates.
Something will have to give. A good place to start is a loophole-ridden law imposed back when DC was a protectorate and when Greater Washington counted fewer residents than today’s greater Asheville or Davenport.
The Office of Planning has suggested a reasonable framework for a subtly revised Height Act that can accommodate growth and change while preserving the city’s cherished urban design and historic neighborhoods. Adapting the rigid 130′ cap to a street-width rule maintains the Height Act framework along our ceremonial avenues — where our city’s namesake actually set a height minimum. Along streets like L’Enfant Promenade, Washington had the right idea: taller buildings will better frame vistas. Beyond the L’Enfant City, the Comprehensive Plan and zoning ordinance will continue to ensure that most buildings never reach the 90′ Height Act maximum, but the city will have the flexibility to adapt to evolving construction techniques and special opportunity sites.
As DC re-adjusts to a new century of urban growth, after a lost generation of population decline and disinvestment, inaction poses a far greater risk than action. Paris’ combination of horizontality and verticality is undeniably beautiful, but its unique form resulted from a peculiar historical process that I would not wish upon an American city today.
(The District of Columbia Council is accepting written testimony about the Height Act through next Tuesday.)
a version of this post is cross-posted at GGW