PUBLICATION
+
   
  MITCHELL JOACHIM
    ARCHITECTURAL + URBAN + ECO-DESIGN

The Rhetoric of Good City Bromides

Ecology, Eschatology, and American Values


By Mitchell Joachim



“I am at two with nature.” -Woody Allen (1935- )

“There is some of the same fitness in a man's building his own house that there is in a bird's building its own nest. Who knows but if men constructed their dwellings with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so engaged?” -Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

Various gentle bromides connote the language associated with sustainability.  What do these recurrent protean mottos such as; “save the planet”, “design with nature” and “form follows function” actualize in city design?  Yet, they remain prevalent despite their ambiguity.  In Reyner Banham's historical judgment bromides like “form follows function” are “empty jingles”.  He states; “We live in a throw-away economy, a culture in which the most fundamental classification of our ideas and worldly possessions is in terms of their relative expendability.”  Thus design is about production solving for demand economies.  Design platitudes or formulas cannot necessarily overcome a driven society.  Banham persists; “Our buildings may stand for a millennium, but their mechanical equipment must be replaced in fifty years, their furniture in twenty.”  Maxims like “form follows function” are partly responsible, but not entirely ill conceived.  The question is not if bromides can elicit good design, but what are the resonate sources of these intentions?  More significantly, how do they fit within a theory of sustainability and American values?

Ungracefully, the American value system is somewhat distressed.  It seems value has devolved into feats of rampant affluenza and mega scales (franchise brands, super-sizes, big box retail, XXL jumbo paraphernalia, etc.) encapsulating a joint race for ubiquity and instantaneity in the American mindset.  Centuries ago, the Founding Fathers boldly proclaimed to the world a distinctly nationalistic value; a dignity rooted in the self-evident truths that "all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."   Egalitarian notions aside, these values have lost their semiotic pulse.

A delegation of clichés prescribing the end is already here, the ecological society, which has formed around the possibility of the end, through pollution, through various floods, the greenhouse effect, etc. Hence, alarming criteria makes up the roots of an environmentalist debate. Now, the gravity of industrial accidents renders the appearance of an eschatological society possible, a society of the end. Paul Virilio believes this raises primary philosophical questions; Nazism was an eschatological party, which brought about absolute war. Virilio’s raison d'être is; “to invent the ship is to invent the shipwreck; to invent the airplane is to invent the crash”.  Any valuation of scientific progress implies reciprocal accident progress. Designers converse about inventing airplanes with a thousand seats, which then imply a possible thousand deaths. Aristotle said, “The accident reveals the substance,” which is to say that one cannot separate the innovation of an object, technique, or place from its devalued negative side.  Therefore in the bona fide values of a flourishing city, what then constitutes the magnitudes of its failure?

The American city allegedly is in an unremitting state of trauma.  At present pursuant fields of politics, urbanism, design, and environmental science also compulsively share in this crisis via the Freudian death drive.  Illustrated by the contemporaneous desire to affix accountability, society has addressed the term “sustainability” to negotiate collective ecological worries.  Erstwhile, commonplace, hackneyed, trite, or vulgar definitions of sustainability have saturated typified operations of city design.  Such suppositions permeate the undergriding process of thinking about eco-urbanity, yet none foreground a cogent stratagem.  Freud postures; there are still deeper reasons for humankind's dissatisfaction with urbanized life. Inasmuch as setting down what he believes to be the defining characteristics of this object: control over nature, the desire for cleanliness and order, the higher intellectual pursuits (philosophy, religious systems, scientific thought, the arts, ideals of self- and communal perfection), and, most significant of all, the management of social and sexual relations. This preceding attribute is wholly necessary if humans are to avoid what the Renaissance philosophers called "the state of nature" or, to use Thomas Hobbes' acerbic extension of the phrase, "the war of all against all." Freud plainly does not believe that men and women can revisit a primitivist's paradise in which, according to most pre-psychoanalytic theorists, peace and harmony reigned.  How will sustainability shift itself from this “return to nature” and “end of the world” rhetoric, to one of a less moralistic position? When will some ecocentric platitudes recognize their casual veneers and engage scientific skepticism? 

Bjorn Lomborg, author of The Skeptical Environmentalist, unlike his critics, represents the anti-eschatological approach to sciences of the natural world.  Lomborg has succeeded in presenting a case for an awfully unpopular view in the intellectual community it resides.  To summarize, his statistics reveal that the world is getting better and all environmental science overestimated its apocalyptic claims.  Undoubtedly his work is massively flawed, so what then is the actual underlying issue?  It is probably best that some eco-scientists discontinue the “end could be near theories” and embrace less moralistically imbued rationales.  What then are the ecological value systems that measure American City design?  Unfortunately, the various elucidations of urban sustainability are in a recombinant mix of maintenance routines yearning for predisposed notions of nature as the great catharsis.

Jeremy Rifkin infers the modern age has been characterized by a Promethean spirit, a restless energy that preys on speed records and shortcuts, unmindful of the past, uncaring of the future, existing only for the moment and the quick fix. The earthly rhythms that characterize a more pastoral way of life have been shunted aside to make room for the fast track of an urbanized existence. Lost in a sea of perpetual technological transition, modern man and woman find themselves increasingly alienated from the ecological choreography of the planet.

Ecocentric manifestos, sloganeered endorsements, and weakly supported legislation notwithstanding, the overall argument for dwelling in tune with nature is robust.  The problems rest wholly in the gauges of such idealistic conditions and the obligations stemming from a few reliable modern paradigms.  These desirable conditions are rattled off in architectural intentions monotonously.  Vacuous and politically approved catchphrases profoundly affect the design discourse.  Admittedly, some of these following bromides of sustainability are insightful and almost impossible to disagree with:
  "...development which meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their needs." -coined in 1987 by the World Commission on Environment and Development, subsequently published in “Our Common Future”.

Sustainable urban development requires more than specialist management and local politics; increasingly, it demands national, regional and global interventions. Most policies conducive to social sustainability should, among other things, seek to promote fiscal equalization, to weave communities within the metropolis into a cohesive whole, and to provide transport systems that ensure equal access to public services and workplaces, all within the framework of an open and democratic local governing structure.
“Bioclimatic towers” and “Urban clustering” are other mega themes when designing sustainably.  In this perspective: Skyscrapers are not only "an inevitable building form," they're also "more environmentally sustainable" than smaller buildings (Tall Buildings Sustainability & the City, Pank, Girardet, Cox, et. al.).  Examining the options for tall buildings in cities in the context of sustainable development is paramount. This requisite position is against a background of pressure for change arising out of emerging policies of relevance to the city. The effect of bioclimatic towers on their local environment and on their occupants has been considered by multiple green architects, Ken Yeang especially. Furthering analysis of new developments in the design, construction and operation of tall buildings can be followed by a discussion of “best practice” examples of new design ideas from around the world.

Ken Yeang insists the primary design concern for many tall buildings or “green skyscrapers” are their operational efficiency rather than their environmental impact. A salient balance needs to be struck between these two factors. Inefficient energy use is a particular concern. Speculative office developers have less interest in their buildings’ environmental performance than do the companies that lease their offices. Whilst energy use is currently a relatively minor financial cost, it is associated with major environmental costs, particularly climate change.

Lifecycle assessment of buildings and construction materials is now gaining credence.  Some ten to twenty per cent of the energy used in buildings over their lifetime is in the form of embodied energy incorporated in materials and in the process of building itself. Lifecycle analysis shows that much can be done to reduce the embodied energy of buildings, particularly in tall buildings with repetitive floor plans and large areas of façade. Even as there are advantages and disadvantages of building tall, the potential for improving the sustainable development of new high-rise buildings in the city is immense.
Ken Yeang stipulates the effective use of passive solar heat and thermal mass of the building, high insulation levels, natural daylighting and wind power can all help to minimize fossil energy use in Tall buildings. Narrow rather than deep floor plates maximize daylight in tall buildings.  Regulations on sustainable development will assure that such design features become mainstreamed.  In addition to PV, the future development of hydrogen fuel cell technology could make a major contribution to efficient low emission energy systems.

Tall buildings are an inevitable building form and part of the contemporary urban landscape.  New design ideas are becoming common currency among progressive architects and developers. “Bioclimatic skyscrapers” and well-designed tall buildings can be energy efficient and closely relate to their site. Some of these ideas may soon appear in cities as a more holistic approach is taken in balancing environmental and social factors with the economics of building development.
Other methods such as mapping of the city's ecological footprint (sources and sinks) on the surrounding eco-social environment, both locally and globally also facilitate sustainability. These include: calculation of the city's appropriated carrying capacity from national and global totals. Inclusive parameters for the greenhouse effect; ozone depletion; deforestation; water use; topsoil erosion; desertification; loss of biodiversity; air and water pollution; toxic and radioactive waste dumping; depletion of non-renewable resources including fossil fuels, minerals, and metals; loss of habitat, and species extinction; and social effects including rural-urban migration and economic and military pressures on rural populations including indigenous peoples. Simulation of the city's metabolism (resource cycles: materials, energy, and information), and computation of its ecological deficit.

Comparatively little of the dialogue has focused on urban denizens themselves, and how they might live beyond sustainably within the city, or, equally notably, how they might develop a greater comprehension of the ecological crisis and the natural cycles that sustain life, including their own. As the ecocentric educationalist David Orr has stated, “The vast majority of thought about a sustainable society… has to do with hardware. I think it is time to ask about the software of sustainability as well, and thus about the qualities that people will need to build and maintain a durable civilization.”

Multiple designers and planners have become concerned in recent years with “revealing” (via ‘truth windows’ into nature) ecological processes in their designs so that the users of the environment may experience, comprehend, and appreciate those processes aesthetically. In practice, “revelation” of ecological process has meant everything from capturing stormwater on the surface of the land before it drains away to the storm sewers (and creates flooding problems) to planting a row of trees in a plaza where a creek once ran (and may still, but in a concrete culvert underneath the ground). In addition, the ecological processes that are revealed may themselves be truly “natural,” in the sense that they could continue to exist without the management of society, or they may be deeply artificial, engineered systems that need relentless supervision if they are to persist in an urbanized context.  Ultimately, the intention is make ecology visual and thereby exposing an alleged spectacle of beauty.

Traditionally, theories of beauty were based on an understanding of art as the ordered imitation of nature. Forms in sculpture were beautiful to the extent that they replicated the proportions of a beautiful body; forms in architecture did the same in abstract terms. Machines imitated nothing, and had no part in the hierarchy of beautiful things.  Herbert Read’s influential book, Art and Industry, epitomized a distinct bromide; “The machine has rejected ornament.” That typifies the situation prior to the Industrial Revolution.
The first to offer a way of looking at a machine in aesthetic terms of “form follows function” was the American sculptor from New England and transcendentalist philosopher, Horatio Greenough (1805-1852). He presented this view in the early 1840's. As an artist, Greenough was an apathetic classicist, the sculptor of the most popular statue in nineteenth-century America, the over-sweet and sentimental Greek Slave. As an aesthetic truth-seeker, however, he was without equal. While he was producing the Greek Slave he wrote an incendiary essay in which he asked a question; “can the clipper ship be beautiful?”

Greenough suggested that it was, and not because it imitated anything in nature. Instead, a clipper ship was beautiful because its form was admirably suited to its function: its sleek continuous lines were the product of certain physical laws and the need of the ship to move through water with the minimum of resistance. Just as the laws of wind and water resistance determined the form of birds and fish, so they determined the form of the clipper ship.

Such an insight was typical of Transcendentalism, which found divinity in both the natural and the man-made world. It instantly made any machine an object of aesthetic interest. Reverend William Henry Furness, the Unitarian minister and friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson, even saw a "terrible beauty" in the form of the Gatling gun, as it lines were exquisitely adapted to the function of mass destruction. Furness's ideas were embraced by his son Frank, a celebrated Philadelphia architect, who in turn passed them on to his pupil Louis Sullivan, the skyscraper kingpin.  It was Furness who touted the bromide; “a building must proclaim its use”.  But it was Sullivan who conclusively provided the most succinct statement of Greenough's doctrine: “form follows function.”

Whether it be the sweeping eagle in his flight or the open apple-blossom, the toiling work-horse, the blithe swan, the branching oak, the winding stream at its base, the drifting clouds, over all the coursing sun, form ever follows function, and this is the law. (...) It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function. This is the law. -- Shall we, then, daily violate this law in our art? Are we so decadent, so imbecile, so utterly weak of eyesight, that we cannot perceive this truth so simple, so very simple? (...) Is it really then, a very marvelous thing, or is it rather so commonplace, so everyday, so near a thing to us, that we cannot perceive that the shape, form, outward expression, design or whatever we may choose, of the tall office building should in the very nature of things follow the functions of the building (...)?
-Sullivan, Louis H. The tall office building artistically considered. Lippincott's Magazine, March 1896

Jan Michl further traced the origins of the bromide “Form Follows Function”.  It seems that the inclination came to be applied to architecture approximately around 1750 in Venice in Italy, in the architectural canons of the Italian Jesuit monk Carlo Lodoli.  He was acutely concerned with the theory of architecture and came later to be called the “Socrates of architecture”, not only because he repeatedly questioned the accepted architectural truths of the day, but also because he himself did not leave any architectural treatise. His thoughts and philosophies survived in two tomes, one written by Francesco Algarotti, one of his critics, and the other by his devotee Andrea Memmo. According to these writers Lodoli was critical of what he considered as the overindulgences of ornament and decoration both in contemporary, and in much of the older architecture (this was the dawn of the neo-classicist reaction to rococo). As one of these writers put it; “the cornerstone of Lodoli's teaching was the maxim that nothing should be put on show (in rapresentazione) that was not in function (in funzione), that is, a working part of the structure.”

The Lodolian theories of architecture were included later in the 18th century in a book about famous architects written by Francesco Milizia. It was presumably through this popular book that Horatio Greenough, than living in Florence, came to learn sometime in the 1830’s or 1840’s about Lodoli and his notion of function.  The architectural thinking of Greenough and Sullivan had an explicit metaphysical frame of reference. Both authors were influenced by their countryman Ralph Waldo Emerson, the aforementioned representative of American transcendentalism. Poetic and indeterminate this tendency of reflection had its roots in the German Romantic philosophy of Schelling and Hegel, mediated through the work of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Greenough and Emerson met in the 1830s in Florence and continued their contacts in later years. Emerson claimed to be interested in what he called "metaphysics of architecture" by which he meant an architecture that was a result of necessity, in contrast with architecture based on arbitrary and capricious choices. He stated; “The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.”  In his essay on "Nature" he wrote: "Nature who made the mason, made the house" - a prescription foretelling a vision of “natural” architecture endowed with 'natural' forms.

Laurence Buell in The Environmental Imagination considers “natural” dwellings; He points to Thoreau on the subject of muskrat houses, "singularly conspicuous for the dwellings of animals."  Their regular appearance in autumn he always looked forward to and seldom failed to note, often at length. Thoreau had an engineer’s interest in the details of muskrat construction, but more noteworthy is his stylization of the inert data so as to enliven it with place-sense. Muskrat nests are not things but habitats, dwellings remotely like one’s own that provide a basis for erasing the line between village and outback and seeing both as variant forms of settlement in place.

Thoreau in Walden also hinted at form following function and architecture without decoration;
“True, there are architects so called in this country, and I have heard of one at least possessed with the idea of making architectural ornaments have a core of truth, a necessity, and hence a beauty, as if it were a revelation to him."
“,..the indweller, might build truly within and without, and let the ornaments take care of themselves. What reasonable man ever supposed that ornaments were something outward and in the skin merely, -- that the tortoise got his spotted shell, or the shell-fish its mother-o'-pearl tints…”

In “The Aesthetics of Relinquishment," it is about "epics of voluntary simplicity." Buell associates Thoreau’s retreat to his small cabin with traditional pastoral celebrations of leisure and solitude, early Puritan notions of austerity and holiness, and Benjamin Franklin’s ideals of economy and practicality. The same "master plot" shapes the writings of Aldo Leopold, John Muir, Annie Dillard, Scott and Helen Nearing and Bradford Angier. In this plot, material possessions and comforts are exchanged for inner awakening and a restored connection to nature. A variant of the plot is relinquishment of the individual ego. This is achieved by Wendell Berry through immersion in the village life of rural communities.

Buell expounds with cultural geographer Yi Fu Tuan’s observation that place-sense holds “psyche and society together by supplying a deeply satisfying sense of home base or home range…" and Wendell Berry’s assertion that “Without a complex knowledge of one’s place, and without the faithfulness to one’s place on which such knowledge depends, it is inevitable that the place will be used carelessly, and eventually destroyed.”

Yi Fu Tuan’s environmental writing conveys knowledge and love of place with descriptions, maps and itineraries enabling people to appreciate their location as do aborigines or animals. Such literature also enlivens the experience of everyday places with new facts and rhetorical devices that can “recalibrate familiar landscapes…to keep alive a sense of the undiscovered country of the nearby”. These writers direct both official and intuitive knowledge toward “topophilia,” the love of place.

“Environmental Apocalypticism" somberly concludes Buell’s tour with literary visions of environmental catastrophe. The whole order of Nature has been represented by various "master metaphors": a machine, an economy, a chain of being, a balance, a mind, an organism, a web. Buell shows how the web image is used by two authors to prophesy that unintended consequences of human interventions with nature can lead to worldwide disaster. Rachel Carson in The Silent Spring and Leslie Marmon Silko in Ceremony tell stories in which the introduction of DDT into the food chain and the release of atomic energy in bombs and uranium mines tear and eventually collapse the whole web of life. Apocalypse is another religious metaphor, one effective in lending urgency to calls for individual and social change. Indeed, as Buell points out, Carson’s doomsday book played a significant part in outlawing the use of DDT and in passage of the Endangered Species Act.

Mike Davis author of The Ecology of Fear advances “Environmental Apocalypticism" via genre of “urban eschatology”.  He demonstrates a strong penchant for racist fear mongering as the subtext of catastrophe in American cites.  Natives of Los Angeles must agree that the city's environment has been steadily degraded by unbridled, shabby development.  Ecology of fear follows City of quartz, withering criticism and urgent concern for the reckless over urbanization and social polarization of southern California. The argument is audacious. Los Angeles is a disaster   a disaster of uncoordinated urban sprawl, deficient public services, inadequate open space, rapacious development, naturally recurring calamities (earthquakes, floods, fires, tornadoes and plagues) and, worst of all, a perverse mentality that simultaneously denies ecological reality while indulging apocalyptic fantasies in which the city and its racial minorities are destroyed.

Davis further critiques the Chicago school of Human Ecology. It introduced the famous concentric-ring diagram of Chicago--the business area in the center, the slum
area (called the zone in transition) around the central area, the zone of workingmen's homes farther out, the residential area beyond this zone, and then the bungalow section and the commuter's zone on the periphery.  This formulation by Ernest Burgess constitutes the primary ecological idea on which the Chicago studies were based. He also introduced the concept of succession, used to describe the fact that these concentric rings, built up one after another as a city grows, are also invaded successively from the inside. Hence it was hypothesized that when an area which has been occupied by wealthy families begins to run down, the homes will be taken over as rooming houses while the wealthy former residents move to a more suburban locale.  Davis debunks their concentric ring model of urban ecological zones, substituting a core homeless zone and outer `gulag' ring of prisons for their original downtown and commuter zone counterparts in amusing diagrams of a similar fashion.

Additional narratives of ecological fear are depicted in The End of Nature by Bill McKibben.  He marshals the latest scientific evidence about the greenhouse effect, the depletion of the ozone layer and a harrowing array of other ecological ills, and clearly explains the frightening implications of the destruction cities have wrought on our planet. Ecological hysteria or reasonable scientific forecast?  Within either approach, The End of Nature has a deeper, philosophical point to make. McKibben writes confidently of the meaning of these changes — about the wretchedness of a world where there is no escaping man. Although for centuries civilization has pillaged and polluted the earth, in the past those attacks were relatively localized; now, with the global changes caused by greenhouse gases and ozone depletion, man and cities have altered the most elemental processes of life everywhere, and the outdoors, Nature itself, has been turned into the equivalent of a vast heated room. By turning Nature into “an artifact” or by-product of economic development, people have lost something of profound importance — Nature as a quasi-religious source of ultimate meaning and value. It is this loss that McKibben refers to in his title: the end of Nature as something independent of, larger than, and uncontrolled by man.

At present, successful examples of sustainability templates have been achieved.  The American architects McDonough Braungart Design Chemistry, MBDC, are one such group to follow.  Chuck full of slogans, William McDonough successfully epitomizes the use of design bromides.  They resonate with clarity and chutzpa in the face of cooperate business.  He astutely criticizes sustainable bromides and accommodates by inventing new substitute phrases.  Some his well known maxims are; “cradle-to-cradle”, “eco-effectiveness” (not eco-efficiency), and “waste equals food”.  Deployed throughout in multiple architectural and urban projects, McDonough raises awareness of the sustainability issue magnificently.
Also the eco-hero Mario J. Molina (1943- ) is a salient problem solver.  His research in the chemical composition of the Earth's atmosphere earned him the 1995 Nobel Prize in Chemistry.  He is leading an integrated program on urban, regional and global air pollution, working with colleagues from many other disciplines on the problem of rapidly growing cities with severe air pollution problems.  Molina declares that “science” won’t solve the ecological dilemmas. Instead individuals must solve them, by changing habits and opening the eyes of policy-makers.  His pollution control work transformed blighted Mexico City.  It is perhaps by the examples Molina and McDonough design can validate its’ maxims and add additional weight to their language.

In summation design bromides profoundly altered the nature of urban life, especially as technology advances induced a new mobility within and between cities, and time and distance assumed new meaning. The environmental movements and the development of the residential suburb in America in the second half of the nineteenth century express nostalgia for the agrarian past that was concomitant with industrialism and the growth of cities in the modern era. During this period and continuing to the present day, the market forces of a globalizing culture have promoted the eclectic character of city design in the States. In the absence of a general cultural consensus since at least the beginning of the nineteenth century, design has been increasingly viewed as a commodity, a mere matter of consumer taste, as expressed in the casual intermingling of various catchphrases.

Twentieth-century modernism attempted a radical reinvention of architectural design somewhat hesitantly at first, joining forces in forging a highly rational, functionalist, purportedly style-free vocabulary. But in the end, as Postmodernists disavowed its maxim “form follows function” aesthetic, Modernism, too, became a style, a design option rather than a mandate.  Theories of sustainability fit within American values by aligning their concepts with the pulses of the time.  Consequently bromides operating by themselves are bounded by the period of their invention.  Instead of taking them at face value, eco-designers will need to add to their profundity by investigating there relationship to present day environmental sciences.





Bibliography

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Davis, Mike. Ecology of Fear: Los Angeles and the Imagination of Disaster, Vintage Books; 1999.

De Zurko E.R., Origins of Functionalist Theory, New York; 1957.

Earth Pledge. Sustainable Architecture White Papers, Earth Pledge Foundation; 2001.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Cowley, Malcolm (Editor). The Portable Emerson
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Greenough, Horatio & Small, Harold A. (Editor), Form and Function Remarks on Art, Design and Architect, University of California Press; 1947.

Kaufmann Jr. E. "Lodoli Architetto." In: Searling H., ed. In Search of Modern Architecture: A Tribute to Henry-Russell Hitchcock, Cambridge, Mass., London 1982.

Lomborg, Bjorn. The Skeptical Environmentalis, Cambridge University Press; 2001.

McDonough, William & Braungart, Michael. Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things, North Point Press; 1st edition 2002.

McKibben, Bill. The End of Nature, Anchor; 1999.

Michl, Jan, Form Follows What? The modernist notion of function as a carte blanche, Magazine of the Faculty of Architecture & Town Planning [Technion, Israel Institute of Technology, Haifa, Israel] nr. 10, Winter, 1995: 31-20 [sic].

Orr, David W. The Nature of Design: Ecology, Culture, and Human Intention, Oxford University Press; 2002.

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Richards Ivor. Hamzah & Yeang : Ecology of the Sky, Images Publishing; 2001.

Sorkin, Michael. Local Code: The Constitution of a City at 42 Degrees N Latitude, Princeton Architectural Press; 1994.

Thoreau, Henry David. Walden, Beacon Press; 1998.

Tuan, Yi-Fu. Topophilia: A Study of Environmental Perception, Attitudes and Values, Columbia University Press, 1990.

Virilio, Paul. Unknown Quantity, Thames & Hudson; 2003.
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