Excelsior at sunrise. Photo by Al Whitaker, Excelsior’s Amateur Photographer Laureate

I grew up in Excelsior, Minnesota. Even so, I’ve been writing this blog for just over a year and have not yet dedicated a post specifically to any Excelsior going-on. For those not familiar with the town, it is an increasingly anomalous holdover in the American townscape and its past is a storied one. Excelsior was once a regional and even national attraction for summer vacationers back when electric streetcars were common – you know, like 110 years ago. Although the town is settled just 17 miles west of Minneapolis on the southwest shore of Lake Minnetonka, it began as an indisputably remote resort town. Edina, St. Louis Park, Hopkins, and Minnetonka were all blips in the landscape on the train ride from the Twin Cities. Excelsior is now lodged firmly in Suburbia, but has remained mostly true to its roots. The town is an authentic Mainstreet USA sort of place and although many small and historic cabin homes have become teardowns, McMansions are still rare within the city limits.

The site in question before demolition. Google hasn’t been through town for a while.

There is a large piece of prime real estate in town; extremely valuable real estate that is sitting vacant across the street from Excelsior Bay. It is nestled between the end of Water Street, Excelsior’s main business strip and its thriving commercial core, and the foot of the town’s large and charming charter boat pier. This spot has been an empty grass lot ever since a 1970′s-era strip mall building was torn down a few years ago. The owner of the property refused to renew the leases of the “Pizza Hut building” in hopes of eventually landing a far more lucrative development. It was shortly after demolition that the idea of a hotel started to be murmured about town.

There are two warring forces in Excelsior: the development-minded and the preservation-minded. Although most Excelsiorites are decent and reasonable people, the flying accusations would give Congress a run for its money. The development-minded paint the other side as progress-stifling NIMBY’s while the preservation-minded mark the other side as Starbucks-courting yuppies. As is true with most controversies, the epithets are (mostly) false and the best solution can be found somewhere in the middle.

Geographically, Excelsior is a very small town. It inhabits only 0.63 square miles of land, and its population has dwindled from 2,397 in 2008 to 2,188 in 2011. The aggravation caused by Excelsior’s small tax base is made even worse by resentments toward adjacent townships. The residents of these more suburban-style cities benefit from Excelsior’s amenities and attractions without paying in for their upkeep, while their governing bodies barely provide as much as a real sidewalk or two in their own municipalities. Excelsior’s small size makes it difficult to compete in the terms that have become common in the American landscape: its 0.63 square miles of land can not contain enough Olive Gardens and Walgreens to meet its expenses while these same attractions can be found anywhere else that one may wish to drive to. Excelsior must carefully manage its resources, and its most valuable resource is authenticity.

There is a catch-22 that Excelsior needs to deal with as far as income and services are concerned. It is expensive to maintain the sort of historic charm that Excelsior exudes, and many highly taxable opportunities have been passed on in the name of authenticity. However, if this sort of discretion is not taken, there would be no charm left to attract more income. The following statement is a controversial thing to say in the lake community, but I would say that one need to look no further than across the lake to Wayzata to see what happens if development and design decisions are left unbridled and unchecked. Excelsior would be wise to resist the sort of architecture and land-use strategies that Wayzata has embraced in the past few decades. As a new business-owner is quoted in the Star Tribune: “Excelsior is coming into a golden era. Wayzata has been the star on the lake, and the star is sinking and Excelsior’s is rising.” Golden era is up for interpretation, but Excelsior is certainly more glamourous now than when I was growing up.

Discussing Wayzata is a good way of getting back to the main impetus of this narrative, which is the Hotel. The first hotel proposal is something that would have a much easier time getting built in a more laissez-faire environment such as Wayzata; a built environment whose tax-base is large but whose soul is lacking. To be honest, I had never seen the rendering below until I started doing research for this post. I am hoping that the reason for this is that it was quickly laughed out of the room. If anyone whom is familiar with Excelsior can tell me where exactly the vantage point of this rendering is supposed to be I would greatly appreciate it, but I can say with certainty that there are no three-level curtain wall systems existing within Excelsior city limits. Further, there are no gently-sloping shingled roofs perched above Water Street, only brick parapets the way God intended. The ludicrousness and inappropriateness of this first design is so appalling that I will waste no more time on it. (An arched dormer, really?!)

The first Hotel proposal that escaped from Wayzata and was summarily rejected.

There are very fine details that cue any typical person in to whether a place is “authentic” or “true”. These small differences can make one place feel safe while another place will feel dangerous, vibrant versus dull, welcoming versus insulated, etc. Architects, planners, and urban designers are the professionals that can most readily point to what these differences are, although I will admit that Architects are the most likely to be blinded by their own ego or ambition to read the tea-leaves of an individual situation. This professional shortcoming is partly to blame for the boondoggle going on in Excelsior right now. The Architect and developer of this project are guilty of failing to properly analyze the site it occupies, a practice of great importance that was hammered in to my head during my first year of Architecture school.

The second design submission – only two ridiculous architectural add-ons this time around.

After a verbal lashing by the Heritage Preservation committee and some wrangling around town, a new design was submitted. This second proposal is much better, but still has some problems. First, kudos to the Architect for finally analyzing something (his critics) and coming back with a hand-rendered drawing. There are no curtain walls, no gently-sloping roofs, no asphalt shingles, and plenty of brick.  These are all good things. In fact, if we just went ahead and lopped off everything above the third floor I would be ready to sit down and talk construction documents.

This last statement would put me at odds with the some of the preservation-minded folks in Excelsior. Nothing on Water Street, our “Main Street”, is built above two stories. Even our movie theater next door to the hotel site is subdued in the modest fashion of yesteryear, lacking even a marquee. Three stories is too much for Excelsior they would say, although most preservationists (myself included) would compromise in order to have a larger say in style, materials, and uses. There is a theory going around that the hotel would never be profitable anyway, and that this is all a ploy to operate at a loss for a few years and then convert it to condos. I, for one, think that downtown condos are wonderful idea but seem to be the only person that does.

I started this post as a practice in self-reflection: why is it that I support high-density developments in other neighborhoods but am leary of development in my childhood home? What I have realized is that I share the same reservations as other neighborhood activists; I don’t want a reckless development ruining an urban landscape that is special to me. I may differ from others in that I welcome increased density, in fact I plead for it. If a three-story lake-facing anchor building needs to be built at the end of Water Street in order to usher in visitors or permanent downtown residents, then I welcome it. Get rid of the stupid turret, lose the mansford roof, and I am on board. Luckily, the inclusion of commercial space that meets the sidewalk has been a non-negotiable requirement since the beginning.

There is still a long fight to be had before any groundbreaking for this hotel and Excelsior is fortunate to have a strong force fighting on the side of preservation and continuity. It is true that not all things are worth preserving, but Excelsior is. There should be a distinction between preserving buildings and preserving a feeling. The old Pizza Hut building was not “of Excelsior”. It was built in a time when our country had turned its back on traditional and intuitive urban environments and it was not worth keeping. However, the feeling of Excelsior would be damaged if it had been immediately replaced with a massive edifice to thoughtless design such as the first proposal.

Excelsior has a distinctly traditional American downtown, and it is possible for new buildings to continue this tradition. In fact, just one block away from the hotel site is a beautiful brick building that had housed a drab Ace Hardware most of my life before nearly burning entirely to the ground. After a brilliant update, it contains a very popular Irish restaurant, a jewelry store, a furniture store, a tailor, and offices on the second floor. Not only is it as mixed-use as any building in the city, it is very handsome despite its youthfulness. This goal should be at the forefront of any design discussions regarding the future hotel. It is imperative when working within a vulnerable architectural context to show skillful restraint, and it is the job of the preservation-minded forces in town to make sure of it. 

A quick candid photo taken on typical Fall evening on Nicollet Mall.

Nicollet Mall is the best part of Minneapolis. If not, it is definitely the best part of downtown. It is the best example of successful urbanism that we have, and its close proximity to the Minneapolis Convention Center has redeemed the reputation of the city for countless reluctant visitors. To readers of this blog it will be obvious why this is. The sidewalks are wide. Really wide. Cars are not allowed; only busses, taxis, bicycles, skateboards, pedi-cabs, pedal pubs, segways, push carts, food trucks, farmer’s markets, snowman floats, horse carriages, police, and ambulances are allowed. The Mall is full of sculptures and trees and planters and is almost always pleasant. Forget the Mall of America, if you are trying to impress visitors bring them to Nicollet Mall.

Lately I’ve been thinking that Minneapolis needs more of this. The human-scale vibrancy that can be found on Nicollet Mall is quickly lost any more than a block or two away from the Mall. Except for the occasional uninitiated out-of-towner, it is generally understood that Nicollet Mall is intended for accommodating and transporting humans, not cars. As downtown Minneapolis reaches toward its goal of doubling it resident population, cars will enjoy less of a priority and many more people will be on foot going about their tasks. This is why more space for people will become necessary as Minneapolis becomes a more human oriented city.

Hennepin Avenue seems like the most obvious candidate for this transformation, and it could use the work. However, I have a vision in my head of a large car-less intersection in the middle of the city, preferably with streetcars (but I’ll keep dreaming on that one). So, for my hypothetical study I need to find a street that runs perpendicular to Nicollet Mall and whose buildings could accommodate tenants that contribute to street-level pleasantness. I took a walk yesterday to scope out where I would put my “Cross-street Mall”. I eventually decided on 7th Street, which happens to be the corner of Nicollet that the Crystal Court rests on (which has been coming up a lot lately, maybe my shrink will sort that out for me 20 years from now).

I chose 7th Street simply because it seemed most plausible, or rather, least implausible. I like that it starts at the Target Center and First Avenue (the club, not the avenue), and that it ends roughly where the new Vikings stadium will be. It’s kind of like our own little Avenue des Champs-Élysées, only with more skyways.

The intersection of Hennepin and 7th. Block E at the forefront and the legendary First Avenue club in the back left.

The Nicollet Mall intersection is in the back with the green awnings. The busiest transit stop in the state is behind that truck.

Photograph of Crystal Court from “The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces”

When Urban Spaces was published, Philip Johnson’s IDS Center had been towering over the Foshay for only 8 years. The snarky blogger inside of me has wanted to be critical of the Crystal Court for a long time, but I could never find enough fault with it to pass judgment. William Whyte praises the court for its highly visible connection to the street, its amount of seating, and its diversity of patrons and uses. For these reasons he makes the assertion that the Crystal Court is the best indoor space in the country, circa 1980. Compared to Whyte’s other examples of corporate-sponsored indoor public spaces, the Crystal Court is stellar. Its vast Modernism and bladder-inducing water feature, traits of the court that irk me, are given a pass by Whyte. Truth be told, the Crystal Court does manage to stay somewhat lively at most times, despite its cavernous qualities and its ever-progressing age. Whyte’s analysis credits the open flow and transparency of the entrances as major factors of the Crystal Court’s success. He spends a considerable number of paragraphs describing the downfalls of revolving doors, but fails to note that the Crystal Court employs them heavily, although that is a small matter.

A professor of mine liked to say that a test of whether a space is public or private is to lift up a camera and start snapping pictures. The quickness of security guards telling you to stop will help inform you to the degree of ownership that the public has in that space. This test is interesting because a camera will make it a long way through the Minneapolis skyway system (I’ve tested it) but is not likely to last long in the County office towers. For fun, he would conduct this test in outdoor shopping centers – always to disastrous results.

Ownership is an important point in regards to the Crystal Court because I would not be able to tell you who owns it if I were asked. In fact, now that I consider the IDS Center to be part of my neighborhood, I have the same sense of rapport whooshing in to the Crystal Court as I do when walking in to the lobby of my own building. It’s comfortable and very rarely do I feel like I am not supposed to be there. I’ve known many architects that will defend Modernism to their graves, and in this case Mr. Johnson may have gotten it right.

The Crystal Court as it exists today. Knowing Modernists’ disdain for curtains and blinds, I wonder how Philip Johnson would react to that flag.

It looks like HKS doesn’t plan on spurring any development around their stadium.

That being said, this concept rendering doesn’t provide much hope for design-driven urbanistic development in the vicinity of the stadium. It also appears that Minneapolis is due for a dreary post-apocalyptic future (and a completely different skyline). Fortunately, Mayor R.T. Rybak seems intent on building a city over the giant parking lot surrounding the Metrodome before that ultimate fate comes upon us.

Although I labeled the Metrodome as a cancer yesterday, it doesn’t have to be. Target Field, for example, is slowly integrating wonderfully in to the downtown fabric, and I believe it will prove to be a major catalyst in the eventual flourishing of the North Loop neighborhood. The same can not be said for the Metrodome’s history.  Somewhere out there is a photo of many more buildings surrounding the Metrodome in the year that it was built than exist now. I’ve spend 20 minutes looking for it and that’s all I am going to do.(Please tell me if you know where to find it) 

Regardless, this is a present-day aerial photo and it doesn’t need much explanation. The rotting of the city emanating out from the Metrodome is not necessarily the building’s fault, although the building is certainly ugly; it is the fault of decades of stupid land-use and transportation policies. In that same vein, I don’t care so much about the actual design of the stadium. The eventual design is important in the way in which it integrates in to the neighborhood, and American stadiums (especially football stadiums) have a bad record with good design. A hideous, inward-looking stadium will seem a nefarious presence in any neighborhood looking to thrive. For the time being, however, I am much more concerned with what happens around the stadium, and with the policies that cause it.

Minneapolis has plenty of room to grow, as is easy to see above, and it will have to grow if doubling the downtown population is to come true. Washington Avenue is already seeing quite a bit of development along the riverfront and is ripe to keep moving along. Now we need some diversity of use to break through the wall of office buildings cordoning off vibrancy (and buildings) from expanding to the east. A policy of density surrounding the new stadium will help to usher that in.

I am still working in St. Louis Park doing primarily commercial buildings, some of which really excites me and some of which pays the bills. I am officially car-less and have a great bike commute in which I pedal through Loring Park, over the yellow and blue bridge, past the Spoonbridge with Cherry, and then on wooded bike trails all the way to my office. With the cold weather coming I need to find a few good books for the bus after my bike gets hung up for the season.

With any luck, this blog will be much more active than it has been over the summer. I enjoy the opportunity it gives me to write out my scattered thoughts in to coherent arguments. So without any further ado, here’s some more Walk Bike Bus.

I have also had a hard time mustering blog posts because I felt like a fraud. I spent the summer commuting by car for half an hour. Each way. Every day. The shame. I know. Now, however, I am fully moved in to an eighth-story apartment in the heart of downtown Minneapolis, bike or bus to work, and am inspired every day by an exciting urban environment that in my opinion just keeps getting better.

I have had a few thoughts over the summer that I would like to develop further in to full blog posts, and I am excited to get my thinking cap back on. When I started this blog in January it gave me an excuse to meet with a lot of people that I would otherwise not have, and it gave me a vehicle to explore the things that really interest me, whether or not my professional life happened to intersect. More than anything, I am excited to get back in to that mode. So, look out for some new Walk Bike Bus, it’s coming!

Now for my pitch: I have a Master’s degree in Architecture and obviously have a strong interest in urbanism. I have been working at WCL Interiors for 6 months and was a Communications Intern at the State Capitol before that. At WCL I have learned an immense amount and have had a wonderful and dedicated mentor. In addition to our bread and butter – commercial interior change management – I have been very involved with two large historical warehouse renovation projects. Below is a picture I took today while surveying one of these projects:

Fun, huh? This is the second floor of a meandering conglomerate of warehouse buildings near the future Central Corridor Light Rail line in St. Paul. It’s my favorite sort of building and it is going to be amazing once we are done with it. Being involved in the kind of development that will revitalize historical districts of large cities is my architectural passion, and it is something that I would be more than thrilled to do in D.C.

So now, loyal readers, I ask for your help. If you or someone you know might be privy to an opportunity in D.C. or anywhere near it, I would love to hear from you. My resume can be viewed here to find out more about me. Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you!

The Arcola Bridge over Lake Minnetonka – where I pressured my girlfriend to jump in to the water with me when we were first dating.

Some of the half-baked ploys to prevent or slow down the planning and construction of a thoroughly enjoyable bike trail included demanding rumble pads and numerous surface-types near the long and winding driveways of the royalty who would be bothered by intruding heathens on two wheels. It was the self-righteous air of “concern for others” that I remember being most annoying.

What are your experiences with NIMBYism? Does anyone out there have specific knowledge of this fight in Minnetonka Beach? I’d be interested to hear stories because nothing is more enthralling than listening to someone’s impassioned story of a NIMBY fight!

Let’s sell some cars!

All of this makes me wonder about something that I spend far too much time wondering about: the character and fate of my generation. Some have speculated that our disinterest in cars is due to the economy that we have come of age in to, and we will mount our parent’s Expeditions and Suburbans as soon as is fiscally possible. I tend to take a more optimistic opinion of my peers, meaning of course that I like to think they have the same opinions I do. This, unfortunately, will never be fully true. However, I have speculated that we will be fundamentally shaped by the economy we have inherited, much like the Greatest Generation was shaped by the Great Depression. I believe, for one, that our entire careers will be tinged by a cautious eye on the back door. We have started our careers as temps and contract workers and without even the slightest hope of benefits. We will never feel completely secure in our jobs, and the way things are going maybe we shouldn’t. Plan B will always be hovering in the back of our minds.

Whether or not this is a good trait to have is debatable, but we are being shaped in other ways as well. We are realizing, I hope, that the suburban model of living that we were raised on is completely and utterly, ridiculously unsustainable. I don’t mean unsustainable in the environmental way, although that is also true, I mean unsustainable in the ancient Rome way. I believe (hope) that in twenty years we will look back on suburban sprawl as a national embarrassment on the same level as other things being debated in politics currently, although I’ll keep try to keep this post as apolitical as possible and pass on listing them here.

One good development though, is that we will need other ways to get around if we don’t care much about those pay-check guzzling, time-wasting, outdoors-blocking, value-depreciation mobiles that GM is trying to sell us – and get around we will! Commuting by bicycle is becoming more and more popular, proximity to transit is a top real-estate concern among Millenials, being able to walk to work is a status symbol, and trains are cool again! Real estate developers are taking note. Mixed-use developments are exploding in popularity, some of course are better than others. I like to think this is something that will stick as Millenials come to love the amenities and quality of life afforded by mixed-use and high-density living. Hopefully, with the right mix of smart development and political pressure, we will succeed in reversing the damaging policies and reckless growth of the 20th century.

Here’s to hoping, and if you have time, share your first-car story with Subaru! (If you’re in the club, that is.)

This isn’t so hard, is it?