Going Somewhere, USA
Tuning a discordant Music City
by
Heather Joyner Spica
Unfortunately, the
saying “If it ain’t
broke, don’t fix
it” does not apply to many American cities. Poor long-term planning,
the fracturing of neighborhoods by interstate highways, and a host
of other misguided choices have resulted in places that are sprawling,
segregated,
gas-guzzling hellholes. But our state capital could be dazzlingly reinvigorated
during the next 50 years—that is, if the plan introduced by Nashville’s
Civic Design Center is implemented. Beginning tomorrow, UT’s
Ewing Gallery lends its space to “The Plan of Nashville: Avenues
to a Great City,” an exhibition of more than 100 architectural
drawings illustrating precisely how the city might become far more
inspiring.
On a personal note,
this particular article marks the beginning of
my ninth year as a Metro Pulse columnist. Approximately 200,000 Artbeat
words later,
I can claim to have lived close to or inside the downtown Knoxville
area
since 1997. I’ve also worked within the past two decades for
Miller’s
department store on Henley Street, Watson’s on Market Square,
Whittle Communications, and the Lawson McGhee Library, so I’ve
seen a lot of center-city transitions up-close and over time.
Observing
changes in Knoxville’s urban fabric has made me more
interested in cities in general, and in Nashville’s challenges
and how they compare to those here at home (speaking of which, the latter
half of this
two-part review, appearing later this month, features an interview
with UT architecture professor Mark Schimmenti and explores what Knoxville
can
learn from the Nashville project). Where our capital’s history
has landed it and specific challenges “The Plan of Nashville” addresses
are considered herein, as understanding the city’s evolution
and goals for the future precedes considering Nashville’s possible
influence on other cities.
Nashville is and
has been many things, some of them contradictory. Permanent white inhabitation
of the town (called
Nashborough until
1784) began
with a group from North Carolina’s Watauga settlement, and
they considered the Cumberland River a lifeline. In years following,
the
waterfront became
inaccessible to most people, flanked by industrial sites hostile
to residential development—and dirty, to boot: in recent years,
Metro Water Services has had to spend $685 million dollars to address
sewer overflow. As for
sewers, Nashville is a city built on limestone that’s problematic
for water and sewer lines; 19th-century outhouses contaminating the
water table provoked cholera epidemics, and the city—55 years
after it became the state capital in 1843—could claim only
682 toilets for a population of almost 100,000. As historian John
Egerton
has pointed out,
despite Nashville’s initial emphasis on speculation in real
estate, most early settlers never became landowners.
Finished in
1845, the Capitol building was designed by William Strickland
to resemble a Greek temple, symbolically establishing Nashville
as “the
Athens of the South.” But the city continued to serve as
a sort of trading post for an agriculture-dominated region not
especially
concerned
with urban development. Expanding tobacco and cotton markets meant
population growth in the early 1800s, and 1859 saw the L&N
Railroad linking North and South (just in time to be taken over
by the Union
army during
the Civil
War).
As important as rail
once was, the city’s Amtrak service
ended in 1978. Nashville witnessed completion of the nation’s
first structure for African American higher education, at Fisk
University in 1876. Later,
blacks were allowed access to only 55 out of 3,650 acres of city
parkland. After Nashville had distinguished itself as a center
for music publishing
and performance, preservationists had to fight to save “the
mother church of country music” (the Ryman Auditorium)
from the wrecking ball in 1973.
According to Christine
Kreyling, author of the comprehensive
book accompanying the exhibition, “Nashville...has always
vibrated uneasily between the commercial and industrial creed
of the North and the agrarian creed
of the South.” The city strives to represent a less harried,
more genteel way of life. But it has been, in the mind of James
Howard Kunstler,
a “lost city.” In an essay published in Metropolis
, he wrote, “a
stroll...in Nashville takes you through moonscapes of urban desolation,
deserts of parking lots, demoralizing walls of submerged and
elevated freeway and past desultory one-story industrial and
commercial bunkers—for
which there is not enough Prozac in the world to mitigate the
psycho-spiritual punishment.” The Nashville Civic
Design Center could change all that. Founded as a nonprofit organization
in 2000, it describes its efforts
as “a grassroots approach
[enabling] the citizens of Nashville to realize the choices
before us, what directions we want to take, and what tools
will help
us get there.” Before
architects, preservationists, planners, and others expanded
the Plan, they conducted workshops that allowed the local community
to “measure
the worth of individual projects against the collective good.”
Public
participation in “The Plan of Nashville” has yielded
a collaborative vision for the city that is reflected in its “Ten
Principles.” They include: environmentally sensitive
preservation of land and buildings; emphasis on the Cumberland
River; good design for
streets providing connectedness between neighborhoods and downtown;
development of transportation options and a greenway/park system;
encouragement of
investment in a mixed-use downtown; creation of visually ordered
civic spaces and architecture that will set Nashville apart
from other cities;
and integration of public art into the overall surroundings.
Mayor Haslam and others involved in shaping Knoxville’s
future would do well to take notice.
What: The Plan of
Nashville: Avenues to a Great City
Where: Ewing Gallery,
1715 Volunteer Boulevard, UT campus
When: Sept. 2
thru 25, with a film and panel discussion Sept. 22, 4:30 p.m. at Art & Architecture
Bldg. Rm. 111, including speakers Thomas K. Davis, Gary Gaston, and
Mark Schimmenti; exhibition reception following.
Call 974-3200 or visit www.ewing-gallery.org for info
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