Up the Hill Backwards

A favourite comic book of mine was the series Terminal City by Dean Motter. It was done in the style of retrofuturism, which is looking at the future as it was once perceived in the past. This can create a charm ('Were we really that innocent?') where flying cars, rockets and robot dogs are the norm, as are names such as Terminal City, Asteroid City, Dark City... There are a lot of cities. It can also encourage us to question how we perceive the future now.

One of the things I enjoyed about Terminal City was that along with the playfulness and optimism, there was an acknowledgement that no matter how impressive the architecture, it's ultimately about the people, how they fit in, how the buildings serve or don't serve them. Because human nature does not change that much. When architects and designers get carried away, they tend to forget about the human factor. This is in contrast with the Art Deco movement, in my experience, where form, aesethetics and function are in harmony. The much-loved Jubilee Pool in Penzance, for example, is a beautiful example of what is possible. One can't help wishing town planners and designers would learn from such successes. (I would also cite writers such as Jane Jacobs, author of important books such as The Death and Life of Great American Cities, where the human factor is the main focal point. Or one of my favourite books of all time, How Buildings Learn by Stewart Brand.)

Also in the south west of England, an enormous amount of construction work is going on in and around Plymouth. I had a comical moment reminiscent of Terminal City, with an appointment for a medical scan. I couldn't find the clinic at first, as it was a portacabin in the middle of a building site. Then, on stepping in, it became something out of a James Bond movie with comfortable seats, snacks, something to drink, and a pretty receptionist; all fronting a hidden area with people walking around in white coats amidst flashing screens and technology that looked fit for outer space.

The slogans being bandied around all this frenetic building smack of retrofuturism:

They're a bit hidden in the pictures, but the phrases are there, in the background, like a constant subliminal reinforcement: Future Inn, A Better World, Ocean City...

While I applaud the optimism, the forward drive and the ability to get things done, we come back to what I feel is one of the main questions asked continually in retrofuturism: where does the individual fit in? Plymouth is known among residents, I find, for its chaotic and often nonsensical town planning. (Someone should read Jane Jacobs.) I often hear complaints about pedestrian crossings in the wrong place, inaccessible doctors' surgeries and there is, of course, the notorious felling of numerous beloved trees at the town centre, achieved clandestinely in the middle of the night. (Again, very Terminal City.) The area around Future Inn, pictured above, definitely favours the driver rather than the pedestrian. I noticed a gap in some bushes where people chose to continually walk through for direct access to a store rather than the ridiculous circuitous route prescribed for them. The planners had ignored desire lines, which show the most likely direction people are likely to go. Adding insult to injury - and there's something of a pun in there - the new hospital pharmacy in the same area was built up a hill away from the hospital; so patients now come out from whatever treatment they've been receiving and have to struggle up a long slope to get their medication no matter what condition they're in.

Yet amidst all the chaos there is much to enjoy, a lot of creativity in evidence and the sense that some people are, in fact, working behind the scenes to get it right. For example, faced with the people's outcry about the felled trees, there has been a whole reshuffling of the council and a replanting project going on at the heart of the rebuilding. (Not pictured.)

What is pictured are a few more examples of architecture old and new which, in the spirit of retrofuturism, I have renamed Starcross Avenue, Terminal Street and The Institute of Lucid Dreaming.

And there we have it. It's a drive to an unknown future, but then isn't it always, and I will watch it and even participate in my small way, here in Ocean City.