Mega-developer Forest City Ratner's plan to build a 19,000-seat arena and 7.7 million square feet of new housing, office and retail space at Brooklyn's Atlantic Railyards doesn't have to be a quality-of-life cataclysm for the neighborhoods of north Brooklyn. If locals would accept the possibility of an arena in their midst, the project could be used as a springboard for historic, once-in-a-generation quality-of-life improvements. Unfortunately, these issues aren't even being discussed. While jobs and housing advocates have seats at the table and are wringing all kinds of concessions out of FCR, the neighborhoods are locked out.

The first step in a winning strategy is for the neighborhoods to accept the fact that the Atlantic Railyards is a good spot for serious development and a big-events venue. An urban arena atop a mass-transit hub is infinitely better than the Nets' Continental Arena, adrift in its asphalt sea of parking, generating thousands of car trips every time it opens its doors. Likewise, everyone living in a tall, mixed-use, residential tower is one less person clamoring for space on former farmland in the suburban fringes. Car-oriented American sprawl is one of the most destructive forces at work on the planet today. Urban density is its antidote.

People who argue that there is absolutely no value to an arena in Brooklyn, write-off the intangible, emotional value of a professional hoops team in Brooklyn. I used to work for Seeds of Peace, a conflict resolution camp in Maine where Israelis, Palestinians and teens from other warring countries came and lived together for a summer. Two things consistently worked in bringing these kids together – sports and Will Smith’s “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit’ It.”

Brooklyn could use a little more togetherness. New York City's most populous borough may be the ultimate American melting pot but the only place its citizens truly come together and speak with one voice is the Navy Yard impound lot. That’s where, on any given day, the entire diversity of Brooklyn can be found cursing that their car shouldn’t have been towed. The idea of Sunset Park Chinese, Crown Heights Orthodox Jews, Flatbush West Indians and Brooklyn Heights lawyers all under the same roof cheering the same team is exciting. If seats are affordable (and that is a big “if” in the most expensive arena ever built), Brooklyn Rats games will be major cultural happenings and the best ticket in the NBA.

Despite my own concerns about what the project will do to my neighborhood, I can’t help but look forward to the idea of someday walking our son to a pro basketball game, circus or some other big event just down the street from our house. I once lived next door to the massive abortion of a cineplex that FCR built on Court Street in Brooklyn Heights. I know exactly how heavily one of these projects can tread on a quiet residential neighborhood. The 12-theater high-rise , looming over Brooklyn Heights like a gigantic, misplaced argyle sock, essentially turned the street outside of our apartment into a cineplex parking lot. On summer evenings when the windows were open and the blockbusters drew crowds, life on our block became an intolerable barrage of slamming car doors, bleating alarms, revving engines and idiotic horn-blasting.

This is why it is incumbent on the developer, city, and state to acknowledge that density on the scale proposed at Atlantic Yards only works if neighborhood quality of life is placed at the top of the agenda. Since the biggest threats to urban quality of life in New York City are all related to excessive motor vehicle traffic, to protect neighborhoods, FCR's new development should be completely transit-oriented. The arena should include minimal parking (like Toronto's SkyDome) and event tickets should include discounts and incentives for transit users (as is being discussed for Staten Island's new NASCAR track). Second, to discourage through-traffic, the city should establish residential parking permits and traffic-calming measures in the neighborhoods adjacent to the arena. Finally, Atlantic Yards should be the impetus for congestion pricing—London-style tolls for those who wish to drive on the gridlocked streets of downtown Brooklyn. A significant portion of the funds collected must be used to improve mass transit and cycling access, to make it even easier to get around the city without a car.

The community can win because these quality-of-life improvements benefit the city and profit FCR as well. In pressing their case, the neighborhoods must remind Mayor Bloomberg that each of New York City's European competitors for the 2012 Olympics is making quality-of-life and automobile-reduction strategies a centerpiece of its sales pitch. Transportation Alternatives executive director Paul Steely White reports that Madrid, Paris and London are all developing major expansions of mass-transit and bicycle networks as key components of their Olympic bids. Madrid is planning a completely "car-free Olympics." It's no wonder residents of these cities are more enthusiastic about the games than New Yorkers.

Enhancing urban quality of life isn't just a Brooklyn neighborhood issue. It's one of the critical global environmental missions of the 21st century. Atlantic Yards is an opportunity, not just a threat.

1:18 PM | Link | (10) comments   

OPEC announces that all of its members have the green light to pump oil at maximum capacity to meet growing demand from China and to make up for diminishing production from Russia. If true, this means that we have essentially moved into global peak oil production. Human beings are extracting as much crude oil from the Earth each day as is possible. This is significant because once Peak Oil is reached and surpassed, our daily oil supply will begin to decrease no matter what the demand. The implications are profound...

4:47 PM | Link | (0) comments   

With the International Olympic Committee in town this week, the New York Press put out the call for story ideas for their "Olympics Go Home" issue. On vacation in Tulum, Mexico, in the heartland of ancient Mayan civilization when I received the e-mail (yes, I'm a junkie), the essay below is the result. For the record, I don't think an NYC 2012 Olympiad is such a bad idea. In fact, it could be very cool -- especially if we can go on vacation again but this time rent our house to European journalists for big bucks. Anyway, here's the piece...

According to the ancient Mayans, the world is scheduled to end in 2012. No one is entirely certain why Mesoamerican sky-watchers chose a precise date 2300 years in the future as the end of time, but it is entirely possible that they foresaw the cataclysm of a New York City Olympiad.

In addition to being the ancient world's most advanced astronomers, mathematicians and time-keepers, the Mayans were great sportsmen. The ruins of their ball-playing courts are found all across Mexico and Central America. The great sunken court at Chichén Itzá, the capital of the Maya, was the mega-stadium of its day. Nearly twice as long as a football field, Mayor Bloomberg would be quick to note that even the ancient Mayans had more exhibit space than the Javits Center.

The "game" played at Chichén Itzá was something like a combination of basketball, soccer and the French Revolution. Two teams faced off, using elbows, wrists and hips to hit a basketball-sized rubber ball through a minuscule stone hoop 20 feet off the ground. Virtually impossible to score, the matches supposedly lasted for days under a grueling Yucatan sun. Like a New York City real estate battle, the stakes were high. Engravings on the walls show beheaded players with blood spurting out of their necks, opponents holding disembodied noggins aloft.

Adjacent to the ancient stadium is the Temple of Kukulkán. The 90-foot-tall stone building is, in fact, a huge calendar. The Mayans encoded their sophisticated time-keeping system into its architecture. On the spring and autumn equinox, as the sun sets, the light hits in such a way as to give the impression of a giant snake slithering down the side of the temple to join the stone head of serpent god Kukulkán at the base of the main staircase. How's that for showcase architecture, Daniel Libeskind, with your Wedge-of-Light-that-they-won't-even-let-you-build?

The Maya aren't the only ones who say its all over in 2012. The ancient Hopi, Inca, Egyptians, I-Ching, and Bible Code hacker Michael Drosnin all prophesize global trial, tribulation and transformation right around then. There are web sites and conferences dedicated entirely to 2012. It's a cottage industry.

Much of it is pretty flakey, but not the Maya. These guys knew what they were doing. Their calendar system and astronomical observations stand up to modern-day scientific scrutiny. And the stadium bloodsport and big, showy, ego-trip architecture of Chichén Itzá is clearly addressed to modern-day New Yorkers. From one high-achieving civilization to another, the message, delivered across the eons, is this: Bringing the Olympics to New York City in 2012 will trigger the End of Days. Let Moscow or Paris host the Apocalypse. We've got enough aggravation here already.

11:35 PM | Link | (2) comments   

Marshall Brown wants you to understand, "It's not about the arena." Mega-developer Forest City Ratner's plan to bring the New Jersey Nets to a 19,000-seat Frank Gehry-designed arena atop Brooklyn's old Atlantic Avenue Railyards is about one thing and one thing only. "It's a very big real estate deal."

Brown is rapidly becoming the Brooklyn version of Daniel Libeskind (but cooler, with no intimidating Teutonic wife, rectangular glasses or turtleneck). The dreadlocked 31-year-old urban designer is director of the Atlantic Yards development workshop and chief salesman of the UNITY plan, an innovative community-envisioned alternative to FCR's $2.5 billion, 7.7-million-square- foot project.

Prospect Heights City Council member Tish James kicked off the development workshop almost a year ago. Having spent months walking door to door during her electoral campaign asking people what they wanted and needed in the neighborhood, she generated a lengthy laundry list. "Basketball arena" wasn't on it. Spurred on by James, Brown and his three partners organized a daylong session of brainstorming, visioning and community input followed by weeks of design. The result was the UNITY plan.

When you take a look at the UNITY plan the flaws in the Bloomberg administration's general approach to development and FCR's specific proposal become clear. The community-created plan includes space for a new school, recreation center and daycare, facilities that meet the needs Tish James found near the top of her list. It proposes a public park connected by a ribbon of greenway instead of a series of privately owned courtyards. Its lower-rise buildings mesh with the context and character of the surrounding neighborhoods yet manage to include more retail space and nearly the same amount of housing as the FCR plan.

The UNITY plan doesn't require eminent domain or propose the demolition of any existing homes or businesses. It builds only atop the MTA's railyards. Instead of creating the kind of windswept superblocks that proved to be such a failure at the pre-9/11 World Trade Center site, Brown's team extends neighborhood streets through Atlantic Yards. This creates more frontage for retail and new connections between neighborhoods that have traditionally been cut off from each other. The smaller blocks also allow local construction firms to compete with one another for pieces of the project. "It's like a pizza," Brown says. "Sell it by the slice and you make more money."

While FCR touts its ability to create jobs and affordable housing, Brown says, "We can go beyond housing and build homes. We can go beyond jobs and build businesses and careers." Ultimately, this is the biggest innovation of the UNITY plan—the idea that those traditional political commodities, "jobs" and "housing," aren't good enough. For hundreds of millions of dollars of public money, New Yorkers should get more and expect better.

11:28 PM | Link | (1) comments   

We already know who the big winner of the Jets stadium battle is. It's mega-developer Bruce Ratner of Forest City Ratner. As the city's focus remains riveted on the west side story, a much bigger and less scrutinized deal is underway at the Atlantic Avenue Railyards in Brooklyn.

That's where FCR aims to build 17 towers ranging from 20 to 58 stories, 2.5 million square feet of office and retail space, and 4500 units of housing. For nostalgic Brooklyn baby boomers like Borough President Marty Markowitz, the cherry on the sundae is a new basketball arena. FCR recently bought the New Jersey Nets for $300 million and plans to house them in a Frank Gehry-designed flying saucer at the intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues. Ratner is bringing professional sports back to Brooklyn and for that, he can have pretty much whatever he wants.

It's hard to imagine FCR wanting more than they're getting. Without any competitive bidding or formal public processes, the governor, mayor and borough president have given FCR exclusive rights to develop a prime hunk of real estate about 1.3 times larger than the World Trade Center footprint. City zoning rules have been rewritten to allow FCR to build Brooklyn's tallest skyscrapers in the midst of low-rise brownstone neighborhoods. The state is pitching in by invoking eminent domain. About half of the land FCR intends to develop is privately owned. Three hundred residents and 33 active businesses will either be bought out or evicted (many have already accepted offers). And FCR is asking the city and state to provide hundreds of millions of dollars of subsidies.

If that weren't enough to worry the neighbors, there is FCR's Brooklyn track record to consider. The developer's crown jewel is Metrotech, a 14-building office complex in downtown Brooklyn. Devoid of street-level retail, windswept and barren, Metrotech feels like a fortress (or downtown Cleveland). It is, according to Hunter College professor of urban planning Tom Angotti, "bad planning on a grand scale."

Less grand but equally bad is FCR's notorious Atlantic Center mall, an enormous beige box with a big "A" slapped on the side. When it opened in 1996, it was unlike any mall you'd ever seen. To ward off undesirables, there was no food court or central social space. Stores each had their own entrances and were connected only by long forbidding hallways. Until a recent renovation, the mall was failing so badly that the state DMV had moved in, a sort of backdoor government subsidy.

FCR argues that its developments have kept thousands of jobs in Brooklyn and have contributed to the borough's renaissance. Perhaps. But its developments have also all been heavily dependent on government subsidies, offered design and architecture that turns its back on the public realm, and facilitated the invasion of big box-style chain stores to the detriment of smaller, local businesses.

To best understand the problems with FCR's plan for Atlantic Yards, you need to see an alternative. I'll share one with you next week.

11:04 AM | Link | (3) comments