BLOCK PARTI
On a recent visit to New Orleans I drove through parts of neighborhoods that were devastated by Hurricane Katrina, including the Lower Ninth Ward. Twelve years after the flooding, its residential suburban blocks have a surreal character. About one third of the lots hold old houses, mostly wood “shotguns,” that have been restored, raised above grade on stilt-ilke footings, with water lines and stains on their facades. About one third of the lots hold new houses, bright mini-mansions in newfangled styles and finishes. And about one third of the lots are empty, grown over with a lush, flat lawn.
The texture of these blocks is remarkable. Together they make for a more open, irregular, picturesque kind of suburb. The houses are seen from all angles, like individual objects, chess pieces, rather than chunks of a monotonous suburban fabric. While residents are still struggling for amenities – including jobs and affordable housing – recent growth hints at a new kind of development. Could what has already happened be a viable model, allowing random lots to be developed organically, accommodating natural population shifts, until the Lower Ninth achieves its old density? Or, should planners intervene strategically, focusing new construction in fixed areas that can be strengthened with new amenities, giving rise to denser micro-communities? Or, should planners freeze development as it is, and turn the lawns into pocket gardens and parks, carving an immense, irregular green space through the whole neighborhood? Each possibility offers great hope.
