Streets for People: A Primer for Americans

by Bernard Rudofsky

For anyone who has been wondering what American cities are coming to, this book is a 'must read.' Despite multitudes of environmental studies, planners have been unable to arrest the disintegration of urban America; architects have often speeded it up.

'Streets for People' helps the reader to understand where things went wrong, for Americans are stubbornly putting their faith in projects and budgets with never a thought of exercising their individual duties as city dwellers. It never occurs to them that a town is not the result of a design program but the reflection of the inhabitant's way of life.

Streets, which serve as the lifeline of urban civilizations, have not been adequately studied. People have let their cities' streets degenerate into highways, indifferent to the cost in human dignity and happiness which this entails. The authors explores streets from a dozen countries, including Italy, among others.

The author starts with the a short cultural history of each street, then discusses the fine art of walking and other performance arts; street theater and street concerts of the past and present; the prevalence of Italian street scenes in Shakespeare's plays; playgrounds in American cities; the covered street, sidewalk cafes and outdoor restaurants.

The author also surveys the street's temporary attractions including processions, parades, and streets and squares in Baroque Rome, as well as American block parties and the street decorations of Latin countries and the Far East.

Genres: Architecture, Nonfiction, Cities, Urban Planning, Urban Studies

351 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1969

About the author

From http://www.getty.edu/art/exhibitions/...

Bernard Rudofsky (Austrian-American, 1905–1988) was an architect, curator, critic, exhibition designer, and fashion designer whose entire oeuvre was influenced by his lifelong interest in concepts about the body and the use of our senses. He is best known for his controversial exhibitions and accompanying catalogs, including Are Clothes Modern? (Museum of Modern Art [MoMA], 1944), Architecture without Architects (MoMA, 1964), and Now I Lay Me Down to Eat (Cooper-Hewitt Museum, 1980). He was also famous for his mid-20th-century Bernardo sandal designs, which are popular again today.

Reviews

[Individualfrog · Rating 4 out of 5]

Seeing the title of this book and cover photo, I assumed it was going to be an earnest, pseudo-technical argument for a more pedestrian-friendly city planning; an early example of the dozens of wonky New Urbanist blog posts I've read, with perhaps a lingering flavor of midcentury Modernist utopianism. But it turned out to be quite different. Rather than an argument, it's more of a description of American streets and a comparison between them and those of other countries (particularly Italy, but also other places in Europe, and occasionally the Middle East, North Africa, and Japan), and rather than serving up reasoned explanations and social science evidence, it has silky sarcasm and loving descriptions of ancient European wisdom and modern American folly. To me that meant a wonderfully pleasant surprise.

The flavor of Rudofsky's writing can be conveyed by quoting a couple of his epigrammatic captions to the photographs, most of them taken by the author: "Among the quirks of many Old World people is an aversion to dirt. Quaint customs and a general reluctance to face the realities of modern life leave them hopelessly behind the times; their very streets intimate that progress has passed them by. Litter, stockpiles of garbage along house fronts, dog excrement on the sidewalk--all the urban hallmarks of prosperity are absent." "Averse to strolling, Americans are fond of marching. Parades rank high among their penitential exercises and usually are held at a time of year when the weather is at its most forbidding. Pelting rain or biting winds can always be relied upon to quicken the step of marchers honoring Saint Patrick or Macy's, New York's foremost patron saints." "Venice's maze of walkways and water streets is anathema to the motorist who pines for the day when he will be able to drive his car right into Piazza San Marco, the world's most gorgeous parking lot, albeit lying fallow through the years." Personally, I eat this up. But it does make me wonder why.

There's a certain pleasure, which I think as a critical-thinking liberally-educated 'intellectual' I think I'm not supposed to indulge: the pleasure of having your own ideas and opinions reflected back at you. It's definitely a problem when you spend too much time hearing only like-minded voices, but on the other hand, probably everyone has some ideas and opinions idiosyncratic enough that it feels like nobody shares them, a very lonely condition. When you find a book or article which articulates these unpopular positions, it's a wonderful feeling. And that's the difference between this book and the wonky New Urbanist bloggers: rather than a vague approximation, it's the actual way I feel. I never thought I would find a panegyric to maze-like jumbled streets, covered walkways, strolling on bridges, public fountains you can drink from. There's even a chapter called "In Praise of Stairs"! And what's more, Rudofsky is speaking my language: a New Urbanist might explain that a central pedestrian-only square leads to economic growth, or whatever, but Rudofsky presents it as a self-evident aesthetic good, even a moral good. These things aren't means but ends. He doesn't see cities like a video game, machines consuming x food and outputting y cash or z industrial production, but places for people to live and enjoy.

So that's why I love this book, and it may also be why you can't stand it. Some of it is outdated. Some of it might seem unnecessarily snide, especially to American patriots and progressivists (I don't mean "progressives" in the euphemism-for-liberal sense) who believe teleologically that technology and science only move in a positive direction. It certainly doesn't offer any policy recommendations or positive actions YOU can take to make things better. Rather, it only reminds you that another way is possible, something which we seem to need constantly to be reminded of.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved Architecture without Architects because Rudofsky presented such an encyclopedic view of vernacular architecture – it expanded my horizons beyond our familiar Euro-centric canon. I was hoping this would be the same thing from an urban design perspective, plus maybe some interesting takes on American street design. Unfortunately, the field of view for this book is way more narrow: most of the good streetscapes are from Italy, and “America” is usually represented by pre-20th-century New York.

Rudofsky’s very witty, and he has a keen observational eye. But he’s focused on celebrating medieval Italian towns, and it’s hard to understand what makes a street people-friendly without a global perspective or a clear sense of how the ideas could be translated to an American context.

[Matias P. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Este libro centra la mirada en “las calles” y se distingue así de toda la literatura del “espacio público” que podríamos desplegar en torno a Jan Gehl.

Rudofsky, un autor singularísimo, parte de afirmar, con su buena dosis de sentido del humor, que no hay gente con menos aprecio a la calle que los estadounidenses. Eso le sirve de excusa para repasar los detalles que hacen mágicos los espacios libres, sobre todo de las ciudades italianas, pero también de otras europeas, africanas y asiáticas.

Por medio de un conjunto finísimamente elegido de ejemplos históricos y/o vernáculos, ilustrado con unas fotografías de quedarse bizco, el libro rinde preciosos homenajes a los toldos, las escaleras, las fuentes, los árboles o los empedrados. No se estanca en esos aspectos materiales, sino que también observa cómo los atributos del espacio se relacionan con el modo en que paseamos, conversamos, comemos o festejamos a cielo abierto.

Streets for People es una llamada a ponerle alma a la construcción de nuestros espacios compartidos. Una reivindicación de lo hermoso y lo perdurable en una época en la que todo eso se estaba diluyendo. Cincuenta años después de su publicación, la sensación de pérdida que provoca leerlo es más acusada de lo que debió ser en su día.

[Daniel Dickson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Idiosyncratic, strongly opined, often wittily poignant.

[Patrick Trisler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I love books like this, even though they are meant to depress, or at least anger us at our own stupidity. It seems you can compare any country to the U.S. infrastructure wise, and we will fall short. We like to build things quickly and cheaply, then tear it down in about 30 years cause its wore out, then build it the exact same way again. Mr. Rudolfsky wants us to learn that quality of life is directly affected by the quality we put into our surroundings. His focus here is on the public realm of the streets. I understand he has another book on architecture that is pretty good.
We tend to think of a street as being for vehicles only and only as a means of getting from point A to B, but there is a huge variety of what a street can be. It can serve as an open market(though most of the streets used as markets are covered in some way). It can be something that the community identifies with and actually takes pride in. A place of social or commercial interaction. Whatever specific function it serves, it is first a place for the public, and the public usually decides its function. Here, the street is a place for cars, end of story.
One interesting point that comes up throughout the book is the reactions that Americans have when they encounter these old world pedestrian thouroughfares. Some involve awe and appreciation, but most decide that any culture that would live so lavishly will never amount to anything. It's almost as though they can't put a dollar amount to such a thing, so it must not be worth anything.
I will say that Mr. Rudolfsky tends to preach about our culture at large beyond our infrastructure. You get the feeling he wants us all to become Italian, breakfasting at cafes each morning and attending operas at night. He's not even happy with the way we have block parties, though if it were to happen in Italy it would probably be another story. In the end though, this book is kind of depressing, since most of us would have to actually go to Italy to find anything close to what is described in this book.

[Grant Scalf · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every civilization gets the cities it deserves. And so our civilization has delivered us cities made, or remade, for that most American of vices: the automobile. Damn.

Final quote in the book, from sociologist Jane Addams, sums up the curse that hangs over the country: “Society cares more for the products they manufacture than for the immemorial ability to affirm the charm of existence.”

Here’s to affirming the myriad charms of existence, friends.

[Zedder · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the first Rudofsky book I ever read. I read it one summer at LMU, back in the late 90's. Perhaps I should've gone into urban planning. I was really into that type of stuff.

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wish more city planners in America would read this book. But like the author concludes "we get what we deserve" in car crazy America.