I ride my bike a lot. Mostly from the Bywater, through the Marigny neighborhood, to the French Quarter or past it. The extent of these neighborhoods together is from the Mississippi River to St. Claude Ave./N. Rampart St. and from the Industrial Canal to Canal St. The Bywater neighborhood goes from the Industrial Canal to Franklin Ave. The Marigny neighborhood goes from Franklin Ave. to Esplanade Ave. And the French Quarter goes from Esplanade Ave. to Canal St. There are about three ways I ride from the Bywater to the French Quarter and back: Chartres/Decatur/N. Peters ST., Royal, and Dauphine. Each route allows for a slightly different reading of the neighborhoods, as they are different and as they are similar and where the borders are. Chartres is predominately residential in the Bywater and Marigny, and commercial in the French Quarter. Decatur is predominately commercial. N. Peters St. is commercial in the French Quarter and industrial in Marigny. Royal is mixed commercial/residential in the French Quarter, the closer to Canal street the more commercial, and mostly residential in Bywater and Marigny. Dauphine is the most mixed use route, from commercial to industrial to residential (mainly).
The density within the neighborhoods increases more or less linearly from the Bywater to the French Quarter. In the Bywater sidewalks are often set back off of the road. There are a lot of open lots. Many houses have more than a walkway between them and the next house. The Bywater has little vehicular or pedestrian traffic, not to say that people don't drive or walk in the Bywater. Charters and St. Claude are busy, but the interior of the neighborhood is slow. Traffic does not necessarily increase in Marigny. However, the shotguns are closer together. There is no gap from sidwalk to road. Open lots decrease. The French Quarter is densely packed. Buildings are built together. The street blocks are solid masses rather than objects in a field. Vehicular and pedestrian traffic increases greatly. The amount of people moving in the Quarter add a whole lot to its the sense of density. If you ride your bike there you have to squeeze through traffic. In the Bywater its an open road. The verticality also increases from the Bywater through Marigny to the French Quarter. There are comparably tall buildings in all three of these neighborhoods. The French Quarter just has the largest amount. A majority of buildings there are two stories at least. Another issue of verticality in the French Quarter is actually the CBD. The grid shifts again in the CBD, and if you look at it from the Quarter it feels as dense as New York. The rate of building repair decreases from the French Quarter to the Bywater. I feel like that's effecting the sense of density but I'm not sure why--vacancy pehaps.
Bywater has stoops, Marigny has porches, and the French Quarter has balconies.
The Marigny seems to me very much a border in and of itself, between the Bywater and the French Quarter. It's a middle condition. The street grid of Marigny reconciles the grid difference between the Bywater and the French Quarter, which are caused by the bend of the river. Marigny is a small pie shaped neighborhood as well. These things combined make the Marigny more a transition than destination. Especially if you go to the Quarter by way of Chartres St./N. St. Peters. Because of the pie shape you would be in the Marigny for only about three or four blocks of industry (on N. Peters). It doesn't read as a neighborhood at all by that route, besides the handful of houses visible through warehouses. But it does smell like coffee there. Also, the Marigny is cut in half by Elysian Fields Ave. Elysian fields is a big road. Big roads are more often than not big borders. This cut makes the Marigny feel even smaller. Until I looked on the map I assumed the Marigny ended at Elysian Fields and that from Elysian fields on was the French Quarter. That's how it seems the neighborhood actually operates. What I thought was the Marigny is more similar to the Bywater than it is to the French Quarter, i.e. chiefly residential shotguns, small amount of commercial and industrial areas(not including wharfs). And the border there is more obvious. The map border is Franklin Ave. but the actual cut is at the train tracks, slightly more east. The tracks create an industrial corridor between the neighborhoods. Warehouses run parallel to the tracks and there is a lot of open space around the tracks. Sometimes the train cuts the two neighborhoods off from each other completely. But mostly its a definite gap between two areas. If the gap didn't exist, any physical distinction would be less apparent, if there at all.
I researched U.S. census data (2000) for the Bywater, the Marigny, and the French Quarter, focusing on income and poverty, and a little on household and housing costs. The average household income for the Bywater was $27,246, for under $200,000 was $26,290 (roughly 60% of the population with under $10,000 as 29.2%) and over $200,000 was $336,000, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 38.6% of the population and people at or above poverty was 61.4%. The average household income for the Marigny was $35,764, under $200,000 was $34,895 (roughly 70% of the population with under $10,000 as 23.3%), over $200,000 was $317,450, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 24.1% of the population and people at or above poverty was 75.9%. The average household income for the French Quarter was $58,571, under $200,000 was $41,791 (roughly 63% of the population with under $10,000 as 9.5%, over $200,000 was $369,277, 5.1% of the population. People who were in poverty was 10.8% of the population and people at or above poverty was 89.2%. Economically speaking the Marigny is the median between the Bywater and the French Quarter. In terms of the poverty rate, it is the near exact mean of the Bywater and the Quarter. As far as percentage of the population under $10,000, the rate drops by 5.9% from Bywater to Marigny but from there drops another 13.8% to the French Quarter. More or less, Bywater has less money than Marigny, and the Marigny has less money than the French Quarter. Housing costs reflect this. What is evident then is grouping by economic level. Houses are cheaper in the Bywater than in the French Quarter. The factor of affordability can in cases supersede other criteria of self-placement, i.e. similar cultural beliefs. The article Village Space: Fences and Neighborhoods states "In pluralistic societies, people tend to cluster in neighborhoods with people who have similar values and codes of behavior, as a way of reducing information overload" (Village Space, p3). I'm not saying people don't group themselves by cultural values and familiarity, however, even in a "pluralistic society", there are factors, i.e. affordability and exterior pressure, which heavily effect placement regardless of cultural feelings or associations.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
2
I went to the Riverfront Park at about five o clock. I came in by Toulouse St. The river stunk really bad, almost like something had died a while back and decomposed right in front of where I was sitting. Actually the smell was somewhat faint, but after I noticed it I couldn’t ignore it. The breeze brought the smell in from the river. But I accepted the smell after a while because the breeze was worth it. River breezes are very pleasant in the summer. Mississippi’s breeze was refreshing in a sense, not cool, but the moving air helped cut the humidity and dried up all the sweat from riding my bike.
The Mississippi River is not what I would call a pretty river, at least not in New Orleans. First, due to the nature of New Orleans’ elevation being below sea level, only a couple of places have public access to the riverfront (or any water bodies even though the city is surrounded), Riverfront Park being one. Second, the river is heavily industrialized. Combining these two factors means that in the few places you can get to the Mississippi the view is of industrial machinery and dirty water—though I am a fan of industrial equipment and large boats, etc. Still, this is not an exactly an ideal river view or experience. Perhaps the real issue of shore-to-river interaction, at Riverfront Park and on the river walk way, is that neither of these things activates the relationship with the river. You have two options, sit and look, or pass through and look. Static.
I guess historically the Mississippi has served New Orleans in a very business and industrial sense. The Mississippi is for work. Granted, the river is also the reason New Orleans exists and has such a prominent role in the national makeup. It’s one of our most important ports. The river made the radial grid system for the streets (causing directly, with other factors, the distinctiveness of neighborhoods). Though the Mississippi is perhaps the most important generator of all things New Orleans, the treatment of the river architecturally does it no justice. Hopefully the Reinventing the Crescent project will do something to fix the present oversight. As the author states in “An Urban Design Hypothesis”, the Mississippi is an urban artifact. Wherever the river contacts a city, public space is created to interact with the river, poorly or not. Currently, at least at Riverfront Park, the public space consists of some benches and a walkway with some greenery.
I say this not in the sense that I don’t enjoy the park. I enjoy sitting in the benches and looking at the river. I especially enjoy watch the passing barges and big boats. People watching is next in line. A lot of different people come to the park. It seems empty at first, but if you stop for a while there is a steady flow of people. Some people come to exercise, which seems like an out of the way place to do so. One lady ran by me four or five times. The park is not next to any residential neighborhoods, kind of inconvenient. I guess the river makes up for it. I listened to a guy play drums on buckets for a while. He was pretty good. Three different homeless-looking men at three different times walked or rode by talking to themselves. I saw a woman straddling a man on one of the benches. They were making out vigorously. I rode by them on my bike. Old people like to sit at the park. One guy walked past me, looked at me, walked back and sat at the next bench. He would say things out loud, ask questions, etc. as if he were talking to someone (I was the only one there). At first I thought he was talking to me so I answered him. He was definitely not talking to me. Then he tried to figure out the words to a song he couldn’t quite remember. I looked over at him and he was leaning back and forth, very exaggerated. When I left, I passed him on my bike. He stared at me and made weird motions with his hands. In retrospect I think he was drunk or schizophrenic. Hell, maybe all the Riverfront Park needs to be is a sidewalk and some benches.
The Mississippi River is not what I would call a pretty river, at least not in New Orleans. First, due to the nature of New Orleans’ elevation being below sea level, only a couple of places have public access to the riverfront (or any water bodies even though the city is surrounded), Riverfront Park being one. Second, the river is heavily industrialized. Combining these two factors means that in the few places you can get to the Mississippi the view is of industrial machinery and dirty water—though I am a fan of industrial equipment and large boats, etc. Still, this is not an exactly an ideal river view or experience. Perhaps the real issue of shore-to-river interaction, at Riverfront Park and on the river walk way, is that neither of these things activates the relationship with the river. You have two options, sit and look, or pass through and look. Static.
I guess historically the Mississippi has served New Orleans in a very business and industrial sense. The Mississippi is for work. Granted, the river is also the reason New Orleans exists and has such a prominent role in the national makeup. It’s one of our most important ports. The river made the radial grid system for the streets (causing directly, with other factors, the distinctiveness of neighborhoods). Though the Mississippi is perhaps the most important generator of all things New Orleans, the treatment of the river architecturally does it no justice. Hopefully the Reinventing the Crescent project will do something to fix the present oversight. As the author states in “An Urban Design Hypothesis”, the Mississippi is an urban artifact. Wherever the river contacts a city, public space is created to interact with the river, poorly or not. Currently, at least at Riverfront Park, the public space consists of some benches and a walkway with some greenery.
I say this not in the sense that I don’t enjoy the park. I enjoy sitting in the benches and looking at the river. I especially enjoy watch the passing barges and big boats. People watching is next in line. A lot of different people come to the park. It seems empty at first, but if you stop for a while there is a steady flow of people. Some people come to exercise, which seems like an out of the way place to do so. One lady ran by me four or five times. The park is not next to any residential neighborhoods, kind of inconvenient. I guess the river makes up for it. I listened to a guy play drums on buckets for a while. He was pretty good. Three different homeless-looking men at three different times walked or rode by talking to themselves. I saw a woman straddling a man on one of the benches. They were making out vigorously. I rode by them on my bike. Old people like to sit at the park. One guy walked past me, looked at me, walked back and sat at the next bench. He would say things out loud, ask questions, etc. as if he were talking to someone (I was the only one there). At first I thought he was talking to me so I answered him. He was definitely not talking to me. Then he tried to figure out the words to a song he couldn’t quite remember. I looked over at him and he was leaning back and forth, very exaggerated. When I left, I passed him on my bike. He stared at me and made weird motions with his hands. In retrospect I think he was drunk or schizophrenic. Hell, maybe all the Riverfront Park needs to be is a sidewalk and some benches.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
1
I’ve been in New Orleans for two weeks. It’s really hot down here, not so much because of the actual temperature. Humidity is what makes New Orleans feel so hot. You have to walk on the shady side of the street and drink plenty of water. Even then you can feel the heat like a sauna. The air is thick, really thick, and sticky. Hot weather makes me slow. If I’m outside during the day, I only move at half pace and sweat profusely, especially when I ride my bike. Where I still in Kentucky the stuffiness would make me miserable but in New Orleans heat is just the way things are. You get used to it. Heat becomes normal very quickly.
The heat also fosters a lack of concern about certain things. It’s not really nonchalance and it’s not necessarily neglect. Just, certain things do not matter. The heat is too hot. Maybe that’s how it is in the Bywater neighborhood specifically, but that seems the general feeling. Gutter punks are a case in point. I could probably go a full week without a shower and the only people who would even notice (or care) would be my roommates. I guess that’s how it is other places too. Grime is a part of life here. Most streets in the Bywater can be likened to a checkerboard. One house will have a nice paint job, things are in order, the shutters work. For all I know a well paid lawyer lives there. Next to the lawyer is a house that looks like it’s falling apart. All the paint is worn down, shutters are hanging off. And somebody lives there too. I’d say it’s the heat.
New Orleans nights are what they are because of the day. At night no sun beats down on you, more importantly there is much less humidity. Nights here cool you down. It’s comfortable to be out—streets like Frenchmen, places like d.b.a., hole in the wall neighborhood bars like Vaughn’s and Markey’s, where there’s always people and good music and shuffleboard. New Orleans is a nighttime place. Shuffleboard at Markey’s is really fun and they have free pool. On Wednesdays at the Spotted Cat, Va Va Voom plays. It’s a really small place and they play relaxed music.
New Orleans nights are also somewhat scary. The city has one of the highest crime rates in the U.S. You can, it seems, buffer yourself to an extent, i.e. don’t start dealing drugs. The city’s crime rate has increased and I’m not going to pretend to actually know why. I’m sure poverty and neglect have something to do with it. I did read somewhere that crime rates go up in the summertime. Perhaps it’s the heat. What’s strange about the crime rate is the fact that New Orleans is also one of the most polite places I’ve ever been, especially in the Bywater. People wave and say hello. People stop to ask you how you’re doing. People are more friendly here than in Lexington. New Orleans is a city of contradictions. It’s a weird sort of place. I live in Lee Harvey Oswald’s old house for instance.
Place in New Orleans is a loaded term. Everything and everyplace in New Orleans has some prior meaning. To someone who’s been here for two weeks, New Orleans is a lot to take in, understanding the city grid while riding your bike is hard enough. New Orleans is a place unto itself. I’m pretty sure the city itself has done more to influence my opinion of it than any prior experience could have. You don’t really have all that much to go by when you’re coming to New Orleans.
The heat also fosters a lack of concern about certain things. It’s not really nonchalance and it’s not necessarily neglect. Just, certain things do not matter. The heat is too hot. Maybe that’s how it is in the Bywater neighborhood specifically, but that seems the general feeling. Gutter punks are a case in point. I could probably go a full week without a shower and the only people who would even notice (or care) would be my roommates. I guess that’s how it is other places too. Grime is a part of life here. Most streets in the Bywater can be likened to a checkerboard. One house will have a nice paint job, things are in order, the shutters work. For all I know a well paid lawyer lives there. Next to the lawyer is a house that looks like it’s falling apart. All the paint is worn down, shutters are hanging off. And somebody lives there too. I’d say it’s the heat.
New Orleans nights are what they are because of the day. At night no sun beats down on you, more importantly there is much less humidity. Nights here cool you down. It’s comfortable to be out—streets like Frenchmen, places like d.b.a., hole in the wall neighborhood bars like Vaughn’s and Markey’s, where there’s always people and good music and shuffleboard. New Orleans is a nighttime place. Shuffleboard at Markey’s is really fun and they have free pool. On Wednesdays at the Spotted Cat, Va Va Voom plays. It’s a really small place and they play relaxed music.
New Orleans nights are also somewhat scary. The city has one of the highest crime rates in the U.S. You can, it seems, buffer yourself to an extent, i.e. don’t start dealing drugs. The city’s crime rate has increased and I’m not going to pretend to actually know why. I’m sure poverty and neglect have something to do with it. I did read somewhere that crime rates go up in the summertime. Perhaps it’s the heat. What’s strange about the crime rate is the fact that New Orleans is also one of the most polite places I’ve ever been, especially in the Bywater. People wave and say hello. People stop to ask you how you’re doing. People are more friendly here than in Lexington. New Orleans is a city of contradictions. It’s a weird sort of place. I live in Lee Harvey Oswald’s old house for instance.
Place in New Orleans is a loaded term. Everything and everyplace in New Orleans has some prior meaning. To someone who’s been here for two weeks, New Orleans is a lot to take in, understanding the city grid while riding your bike is hard enough. New Orleans is a place unto itself. I’m pretty sure the city itself has done more to influence my opinion of it than any prior experience could have. You don’t really have all that much to go by when you’re coming to New Orleans.
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