Urban Acupuncture

Jaime Lerner

• Éditeur: Island Press
• Année: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781610915847
• Sujet: Architecture
• Sous-sujet: Architecture General

During his three terms as mayor of Curitiba, Brazil in the 1970s and '80s, architect and urbanist Jaime Lerner transformed his city into a global model of the sustainable and livable community. From the pioneering Bus Rapid Transit system to parks designed to catch runoff and reduce flooding and the creation of pedestrian-only zones, Lerner has been the driving force behind a host of innovative urban projects. In more than forty years of work in cities around the globe, Lerner has found that changes to a community don't need to be large-scale and expensive to have a transformative impact—in fact, one block, park, or a single person can have an outsized effect on life in the surrounding city.In Urban Acupuncture, Lerner celebrates these "pinpricks" of urbanism—projects, people, and initiatives from around the world that ripple through their communities to uplift city life. With meditative and descriptive prose, Lerner brings readers around the world to streets and neighborhoods where urban acupuncture has been practiced best, from the bustling La Boqueria market in Barcelona to the revitalization of the Cheonggyecheon River in Seoul, South Korea. Through this journey, Lerner invites us to re-examine the true building blocks of vibrant communities—the tree-lined avenues, night vendors, and songs and traditions that connect us to our cities and to one another. Urban Acupuncture is the first of Jaime Lerner's visionary work to be published in English. It is a love letter to the elements that make a street hum with life or a neighborhood feel like home, penned by one of the world's most successful advocates for sustainable and livable urbanism.

Pont Neuf, Paris. Photo by Bruno Mariotti, Flickr. Creative Commons BY-SA 2.0.

LOVE FOR THE CITY

What if each needle prick of acupuncture were a gesture of love for your city? Begin by drawing your city. Draw your neighborhood and mark the people you know. Greet them by name. That’s good acupuncture.

Shop in the markets and places where the owners and families attend to their customers. That’s another nudge of love for your city. Catch the next bus and greet the bus driver, the fare collector, and your neighbors. That’s a point for you. Take a walk and notice the design on the ground, the streetlights, and the itinerary. Another point for you.

Did you hear and recognize the customary sounds of the city? Did you smell the typical odors of a certain region? More points in your favor. Did you ask the owner of the store where you usually shop not to seal the storefront with roll-down steel grates at night, so people can see the merchandise in the shop windows? More points.

Do you have a circle of friends you chat with, a café or a bar that’s your regular spot? Excellent. Do you have your own barber, your newsstand? Even better. Are you a regular customer of the stores and services facing along one street? More points for you. Your eco-clock is less than one. Good.

Do you remember your city the way it used to be, don’t feel the need for junk food, watch a movie in a regular cinema and discuss it later at a restaurant with your friends? Congratulations! You are now a citizen, cured by urban acupuncture.

You’re able to capture the special moments in the life of a city and realize that each city can be better than it is. It’s up to you to become familiar with it and sense what’s best about it, which is solidarity. Then you’ll be able to love people of every city.

Let’s all think about the city.

Me, on my part, I think of…

I think of that darling square on 53rd Street in New York,

so precious

that should be closed

(to avoid being stolen)

I think of the streets and canals of Annecy

a down-home Venice

of the herbage covering the marquee of the Hôtel de Fenice

et des Arts in Venice,

deep in autumn

of the sheltered plazas in New York,

petite and grandiose

at the same time

I think of how fast culture breeds,

pounding and hammering on the walls

of brownstones and skyscrapers

I think of the silhouette of New York

of Koblenz

of Florence

of Jerusalem

a great city must have a silhouette

Rooftops of Bologna, Italy. Photo by Yuri Virovets.

of the color of the cities

ah, the color of Bologna

of Farol da Barra in Salvador

of the gray of Rue Monfettard bleeding through the colors of the market

the color of the sea, seen from the terrace of Amanda’s Bar in San Juan,

the dignity of Via dei Calzaiouli in Florence

the hazy mornings of my gray Curitiba

and walls

I think of the eternity of the walls of Jerusalem

of China

and its valleys

I think of the doors and portals

I think of the solitude of the Place de Furstenberg

A bench, a tree, and a

street lamp

and you, so congenial with the crowd

of people that you care about

and alone with the person you love

I think of the shelters, that the city should be

one great, encompassing shelter

I think of the ombrelones of the Campo de’ Fiori

of the art-nouveau marquee of a building in Paris

of the Vittorio Emanuele Gallery, a veritable cathedral for passers-by

I think of the counters of Rio taverns

of the family grocery shops in Curitiba

I think of the bars and the street corners

of the plazas and patios of Paris

Place Dauphine

Place des Vosges

or the Plaza Mayor in Madrid

where a hand’s breadth of table

is worth a handful of prose

where waiting is more agreeable

making a date with yourself

with yourself and others

to look at a river, like a river in Paris

at canals, as in Venice or Annecy

at the sea in San Juan

at the people passing in the Champs Elysées

at yourself, as you were in the Paraguas Café

in Barcelona

to linger in the bar on a bicycle path in Curitiba

in Gramercy Park

at the window of a bar facing the

Museum of Natural History in Nova York

in the plaza in Sienna

in San Marco Square

in a simple tavern in Rio do Fogo

a few miles from Natal

at twilight in...