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There's something very charming about a pram jam: a jangle of buggies, yawning wide without their usual wiggly passengers, neatly lined up at the edge of the park and inviting a curious question — so, where did all the babies go?
Over there! A convention of kids stretching along the edge of a new, green park, sitting neatly on blankets, nibbling decorously on the exquisite little snack boxes their mothers have made them as they all chat in the half-light of a cloudy Osaka morning.
Does anyone picnic as elegantly as a Japanese child?
I stumbled on this scene on a recent trip as I went in search of what had been described to me as a near perfect example of an urban green development in one of the most green-starved cities in the world. (Yes, I like to look at infrastructure while I'm on holidays. I blame my engineer father, and the summer holidays spent visiting hydroelectric plants.)
The sprawling metropolis of Osaka, which has one of those obscure "sister city" relationships with my city of Melbourne, partially opened a large urban park late last year near the busy centre, which takes in nine hectares divided by a busy road, with a curving elevated pedestrian bridge uniting the two parts of the park.
There are water features, and grassed open spaces, cherry blossom trees of course, amphitheatre seating and an exhibition space designed by one of the greatest living architects, Japan's Tadao Ando. The second part of The Grand Green Osaka and Umekita Park opens next year.
It is a very beautiful space. You come upon it with relief as you escape the grey intensity of the city's largest rail station, and it opens up for you as a wandering path through lovely trees and around a calm open green that faces onto a curved covered event space.
Walking into it, the impulse to sit and simply gaze on the green was overwhelming: like everyone else, we grabbed a (bad, sorry) coffee, found little chairs and simply sat and breathed.
Culture is the canary in the coalmine: the designers, artists and writers always get there first, so it makes sense that the magazine Time Out opened a new iteration of its celebrated city markets underground at the Grand Green, featuring the best of Japanese food at a series of elegantly designed cafes and restaurants. Yes, it's a food hall with, of all things, a Melbourne coffee-inspired cafe. Maybe this sister city thing does work.
The area that is now The Grand Green used to be the old Umeda freight station before the city partnered with the private sector to create an urban space that includes commercial and incubation facilities as well as the park, hotels and residential units. I think that might explain all those prams.
Now, the moment I mention old freight yards, I'm sure your mind has turned to the one nearest you: that ugly abandoned or under-used pile of old tracks, rolling stock and buildings, an eyesore on prime land usually right near the centre of town. You're right to think of it, because not only is it wasted, unsustainable space, your city now has an obligation, like every other one around the country, to turn it into small-scale residential housing sustained by open green space.
Many cities are trying for something like this. Of course, everyone wants a High Line now, following New York's world-beating revival of an old railway line. Even Melbourne has fallen under its spell and has already invested millions in trying to replicate its success.
I've always found it impressive and deflating in equal measure that this celebrated project is almost entirely supported by a volunteer army of locals who green and garden on roster. What disappoints me is that while the City of New York owns the High Line and the underlying viaduct, the Friends of the High Line manage and operate the park, largely funding it through private donations.
So, the city gets the greening, tourism and livability benefit without any ongoing project funding. That's just mean. Where's the state and federal money for something everyone benefits from?
I live near the oldest city park in Melbourne, and it is now surrounded by residential units in the same way, and I am always amazed and delighted to see how intensely Flagstaff Gardens is used: by mums and their babies, young couples and their small dogs, city workers and their take-out lunch.
It's the social exchange that as a country we have been lousy at making and offering: we will build homes for you, on a smaller and denser scale than you originally had in mind, but we will provide a beautiful and accessible green space that we will maintain well and that will connect you much more strongly with your community than any outer-suburban new tree-less mega-home could.
It's a proposition that requires the inclusion of the wonderfully talented architects, urban planners, landscape designers and sustainability and housing experts that I know we have in this country with a private sector that needs to be persuaded that their profit margin isn't the highest priority in a major project of urban and green renewal.
The proposition needs close and careful design of smaller scale homes within residential units that meet a family's real needs.
And then, it requires very persuasive and credible people to communicate this idea to people and families who still resist giving up their dream of a stand-alone home on a quarter-acre block.
It is no longer fanciful to argue for this. In the face of entrenched political resistance to the taxation reforms that have put housing beyond many Australians' reach, then re-shaping how we build and develop, and the roles that city councils and state governments must play in that, seems more necessary than ever. And it is being done well elsewhere. You really can build it, and they really will come.
This weekend you have your choice of cookbook wars or election wars, amongst other things: both seriously high stakes battles
Have a safe and happy weekend. Don't forget to tune into the ABC's election night coverage from 5:30pm AEST, on ABC TV and iView and hopefully we'll have an early enough result that you'll be able fit in one of the episodes of Creative Types that you may have missed.
The last episode of this series, on the brilliant Richard Tognetti, goes to air next Tuesday, and thank you for all your lovely comments on the shows so far. I hope I get to do it all again for you.
And if all the political noise around the TV gets too much for you tonight, whack in the ear buds and turn this up, and the world should disappear — just for a bit. Go well |
