Having just returned from working away from Seattle, it feels good to be back. One of the pleasures of extended stays abroad is experiencing our home city with fresh eyes. But reentry this time was marred by news that the Bauhaus Block on Capitol Hill is to be developed, with only the building's façade to be left.
This bit of news raises a larger question about the city's role in development. Does the city of Seattle have a responsibility to protect small businesses, popular culture, and the vitality of its street life? Or should it only be responsible for upholding the ‘rights’ of developers?
For decades here in Seattle, through mayor after mayor, the litany has been the same — if ‘we’ don’t give developers what they want, they’ll go elsewhere. It’s quite difficult to know whether this dictum is true, since the opposite strategy has so rarely been tried here, but looking around the city it’s easy to see what this trend has cost Seattle: Its vaunted quality of life, its standing as a ‘green’ city, and its general appearance.
For some time now, and for a variety of reasons, Capitol Hill has been an attractive center for young people as a place to shop, dine, and live.
Of late, it's not just young people who have been so attracted, but so have developers. A plethora of perfectly viable, even interesting buildings have been torn down, the people living in them and the retail establishments at street level sent packing.
Almost without exception, for-lease signs rather than new businesses have filled the shiny new windows of the much taller buildings built in their place. These signs tend to stay for a long time and pitifully few takers step up to fill these spiffed-up spaces. For months and years, many have remained empty — an apparently tolerated and even expected write-off against the healthy profits engendered by the living quarters above.
No doubt the economic slowdown is partly responsible for the high vacancy rate of new retail spaces, but this pattern began long before the local economy took a nose-dive. Supporters of this new surge in development would likely argue that if a developer wants to demand high enough rent for retail spaces that they price themselves out of their own market, it's their business — and their problem.
But it becomes all of our business when the street life of Seattle suffers. People are attracted to urban neighborhoods the world over for their diversity; for the variety of opportunites to spend time and often money. With that attraction comes greater density and enough people to keep those ground floor establishments in business.
Density in attractive neighborhoods in cities like LA, NY, Chicago, Paris, London, Bologna, Stockholm, and Vancouver, is often much higher then in Seattle and yet is accomplished without the wholesale clearance of existing buildings and the tenants above and the shops below. Maintaining a healthy and appealing mix of old and new, fancy and funky, those well-off and less so, has long been a formula for keeping people living in and coming to those neighborhoods to shop, dine, and be entertained.
In Capitol Hill (and in South Lake Union), the developer-driven approach is very obviously creating a different mix and a very different reality. Up above the newly expensive retail, building after building features several stories of mediocre or just plain bad design.
Often now ‘articulated,’ the facades pretend that a block-long building is really a bunch of smaller ones (which often it was). A hodge-podge of materials is appliqued — corrugated metal, brick veneer, ersatz stucco, wood — sometimes all in the same building. The colors are frequently a weak pastel or some other sea-sick palette. Most all of these tawdry new buildings look as if they came from the same easy-to-use computer program.
Looking more closely at the Bauhaus block brings up other issues too. Currently, the buildings on Pine between Bellevue and Melrose offer potential customers Mud Bay, Edies, Le Frock, Wall of Sound, Spice and Crown, Scout, Vutique, and the Bauhaus café. We don’t live there or even nearby and yet have for years bought books, clothes, and music (at the utterly fabulous Wall of Sound) on the block, often punctuated with a cafe at the venerable Bauhaus. Our porch sports two vintage steel chairs from Kansas bought there long ago.
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