You’re not going to like this column: I’m going to defend tall buildings.
I know their problems. They are unlike our five-story Boston neighborhoods. They’re proposed by swaggering developers who care only about making money. They cause whipping winds and somber shadows. Big plazas surround them on which cars park (at the JFK building) or which require the pedestrian to take extra steps to enter them (what used to be the Bank of Boston and the State Street Bank buildings).
Some people say they aren’t against tall buildings. They are only against where they are proposed to be located. But then it turns out almost no areas are acceptable. Usually the complaints end with something like they aren’t human scale. They say they’re just not Boston.
I disagree.
I’m not defending any particular proposed development. But skyscrapers have a lot going for them, and I’m hoping I can persuade you to reconsider their benefits.
First, they are environmentally sound because they bring density. They pack more people into a smaller footprint, eliminating the long hallways a shorter building of the same square footage would require. Their smaller footprint enables systems to be delivered more efficiently than in a shorter building with the same square footage, thus saving energy.
It’s baffling to me why city people complain about density. Density is good. It brings grocers, pharmacists, dry cleaners, restaurants, street performers and all kinds of retailers, making it easy to do errands, shop, and socialize without ever getting into a car. Density means seeing people all the time, some doing the strangest things. That’s entertainment. Density means you walk everywhere. You can’t save energy better than that.
Density saves our countryside. When development is directed downtown into tall buildings we have a chance to reduce suburban sprawl and preserve our remaining rural locations.
Density spurs rapid transit development, which further reduces the need for cars and promotes a green environment.
Skyscrapers should be welcome in Boston since their height and modernity throw into relief our historic neighborhoods. Although it is only one building, not a neighborhood, one example of this is at the Old State House. If it were surrounded by buildings like it, it would be just one of many. Instead, its skyscraper neighbors accentuate its modest presence, just as the skyscrapers of the Back Bay highlight the 19th-century residential area.
Skyscraper districts create regions that divide the South End from the Back Bay and Beacon Hill from the North End. Division is a bad word as it is usually used. But I urge you to reconsider. Boston’s neighborhoods don’t ooze into one another, but are divided by parks, water, roads and high-rise districts. This definition is unique to Boston and quite wonderful as long as everyone is welcome. The fact that each neighborhood has architectural boundaries should be celebrated rather than decried.
Tall buildings throw shadows, but it puzzles me also that this is necessarily a negative. Sun and shade move, and their interplay make a location more interesting than if it were in sun all the time. Shade works in California’s redwood forests as well as along the southern side of Commonwealth Avenue’s where the sidewalk and front gardens of the buildings rarely get any sun. It can work just as well along Boylston Street when you seek shadow on a hot summer’s day.
Just because skyscrapers bring benefits doesn’t mean their developers don’t have responsibilities.
Observers will differ on the merits of design, but there are standards we can all agree on. Materials should always be first-rate such as those used in the Federal Reserve Bank. Buildings must meet the street in such a way as to enhance the pedestrian’s experience as 33 Arch Street does admirably. They must provide something good to look at for passers-by. Their design should feature interesting public passageways that enable pedestrians to take shortcuts and enliven their experience.
Returning to an earlier era’s design would be helpful too. The shafts that could end at any floor are trendy, but buildings that step back from their bases, like the Empire State building or Donald Trump’s new building in Chicago do, reduce wind and shadow and add interest for viewers. The stepbacks also make it possible to incorporate already existing buildings, as I wish the BRA had made the Druker Company do at Shreve’s former site. A historic façade provides a sense of place as much as historic neighborhoods do. If Rome can incorporate pieces of old buildings into later construction, so can we.
New skyscrapers need interesting tops to improve Boston’s clunky skyline. Right now, we look so Hartford.
And if I were the BRA, I’d ask developers to step up buildings in height from all the open spaces of the city, simply because the layering we now see as we look from the harbor into the city (except for Harbor Towers) is so appealing.
Many Bostonians regret the loss of their 19th-century city, but it is not coming back. Many Bostonians look at change as a threat rather than an opportunity. Many Bostonians distrust density, not realizing the benefits it brings. We shouldn’t succumb to the ideology that tall buildings are bad without looking at the evidence. Skyscrapers can help make our city more walkable and full of life.