The Power of Informality Or Rethinking Modernism

The power of informality or rethinking modernism

Hüsnü Yegenoglu

Assistant Professor Department of Architecture, Eindhoven University of Technology, Post-box 513, 5600 MB Eindhoven, the Netherlands, Tel: 00 31 40 2474666 E-mail: [email protected]

Introduction In many cities of the developing countries a significant part of the population lives in spontaneously developed settlements. Unsustainable environments and irregular spatial structures are often distinctive characteristics of these settlements. The absence of rational planning and organization is often seen as the primary reason for these poor housing conditions. [1] This argumentation apparently has a long tradition even going beyond the heroic days of modernist urbanism as I will describe in this paper. It is not surprising that a significant number of city planners and architects working in the cities of the developing countries in transition rely on concepts of modernist urban housing design developed in the first decades of the twentieth century that are very often in a sharp contrast to the traditions within their own countries. Personal observations in different countries lead me to my main question within this context. How successful have modernist urban housing and architecture really been in the past and what do they have to offer for a fast changing future? In this paper I will discuss the concept of modernist urban housing and its cultural valuation by a brief examination of the key principles of the modernist approach as well as of the criticism against it and by describing the reality of the modernist experience. Further on I will work out the relevancy of modernist and post-modernist urban housing by exploring two cases. On the one hand the Amsterdam suburb “Bijlmermeer” in the Netherlands, a country with probably the most formalized and rationalized planning in the world, and on the other “New Adapazarı” in Turkey, a country where urban planning is highly marginalized by the reality of spontaneous and informal processes. Finally, I will round off my paper with my personal conclusions. The supposed superiority of the rational approach There are two almost contrary ways of urban housing development; the first one can be described as “created housing.” It is created and planned hierarchically (top-down) according

to its functions by overseeing planners and architects using scientific and aesthetic methods of design. The controlled planning often stretches from a master-plan to details like even the used colours or materials. Due to the almost scientific planning process one speaks of rational development. In the last century a great part of the urban housing in post-industrial cities of the so-called global North was developed within this tradition. The second approach can be described as “spontaneous housing,” mostly developed by informal urban housing, often constructed by the inhabitants (bottom-up) without any master plan or the involvement of designers and mainly influenced by the “passage of time, the lay of the land, and the daily life of the citizens” [2]. Due to its irregular evolution, one speaks of an organic development, barely determined by formalized spatial order or regulation through authorities. Many of the fast emerging cities of the so-called global South are developing according to this pattern. Both approaches have a long history. In the master plan for the town of Miletus, designed by Hippodamus in the 5th century BC, a genuine urban grid makes its appearance and illustrates impressively the rational organization of space with all houses and streets positioned in a geometric pattern. [3] On the other hand Bernard Rudofsky in his well-known book Architecture without Architects describes the long tradition of vernacular architecture and town development generated by spontaneous activities of its inhabitants, based mostly on irregular and small-scale spatial structures that are inhabited by millions of people who build their dwellings “according to their own inner light an untutored imagination.” [4] In Rudofsky’s view the “spontaneous city” never will achieve the same appreciation as the “created city” in spite of all its qualities. He even describes a “discriminative approach” in the “orthodox architectural history” where it concerns vernacular architecture. [5] He finds the reason for this discriminative attitude in the suggested “primitiveness” of spontaneous architecture. Within this context “primitiveness” does not represent “originality” but “backwardness” and stands for an “underdeveloped” civilization. Rudofsky strongly criticizes this definition and opposes the idea that towns and buildings that were created with a rational organization would represent a higher level of cultural development. However, the interpretation of the rational approach as being synonymous for cultural superiority is very old. In his book “The Histories” Herodotus of Halicarnassus, probably the world’s first historian, in 440 BC describes an organized Greek city that in his opinion represents the superiority of the ancient Greek civilization above the nomadic culture of the Scythes, who formed a network of nomadic tribes carrying their dwellings with them wherever they went, not having cities nor forts, houses, streets. [6] In “De architectura,” the only complete treatise on architecture that survived from antiquity, the Roman architect and theorist Vitruvius emphasizes the importance of the transition in building from an intuitive and spontaneous activity towards a well-thought approach based on rational concepts. In his opinion this process illustrates the development from a “wild and barbarian life-style towards a peaceful civilization.” [7] So according to Herodotus and Vitruvius, a highly developed civilization distinguishes itself from a primitive barbarian society by the rational organization and visible order of its space.

The modernist approach In my view, the belief in a cultural superiority of rational planning along with the disregard of the qualities of a spontaneous development becomes highly significant in the modernist architecture and city planning of the 20th century. According to the modernist approach, developed around 1920, city planning and concepts for urban housing should be based on scientific, materialistic and deductive methods of planning [8]. This approach was strongly expressed in the famous statement by Le Corbusier that a house should be a “machine for living in.” [9] The Congress of Modern Architecture (CIAM), founded in La Sarraz in Switzerland in 1928, was probably the most influential event to promote the new modernist principles all over the world. From the very beginning on, the modernist movement rejected the existing conditions of housing as found in urban areas of Europe and North-America as inferior and not suitable for the contemporary city. At the fourth congress of CIAM, in 1933, in Athens, the report of an investigation on 33 big cities showed the chaotic spatial and social state of housing that did not meet the real needs of the majority of the city population. The existing cities were considered as unhealthy and chaotic anti-models compared to the desirable housing in the utopian Functional City. [10] Various spectacular housing settlements have been developed following the modernist principles of CIAM, like for example the famous projects Westhausen and Römerstadt in Frankfurt, Germany by Ernst May. These settlements still impressively represent the powerful cohesion between the language of modernist architecture and the social engagement of urban planners and architects at that time. [11] Probably the most influential project representing the social and spatial programme as well as the new shape of the modernist city is Le Corbusier’s project La Ville Radieuse from1930. The spatial order of the Ville Radieuse is based on an orthogonal grid structure and the strict separation of commercial, residential and industrial areas. It was “dedicated to the idea that harmony could be found within industrialism by finding the right balance between individual, family, and the public order of the state; between city and nature.” [12] Although never realized, the Ville Radieuse was meant to symbolize in its aesthetics the progress and superiority of a rationalised culture. Its design shows the almost unlimited belief in the power of the hierarchical and centralized top-down organization stretching from the macro-scale of the city to the micro-scale of the dwelling, as well as the belief that housing could be planned as a “large and smoothly operating machine,” and be regulated by a smart, intelligent and efficient social engineering. [13] The transparent deductive methods of the modernist approach definitely do appeal to the imagination of architects and planners who struggle with the complex social and spatial reality of the existing city while seeking for generic tools and methods to control complex urban processes. It is not surprising that from the 1950s on the modernist principles become orthodoxy in urban and architectural planning all over the world. In the fast developing cities of the South, the modernist approach is seriously regarded and applied to regulate the huge flows of migration generating a large demand for housing in the fast growing cities.

Attacks on the modernist orthodoxy In the 1960s as modernist housing becomes the standard for well-organized settlements with good living conditions, the first remarkable doubts on the supposedly efficient housing planned with modernist tools already do emerge. In 1968 the architect and theorist John Turner seriously doubts the advantages of modernist housing in his essay “The Squatter- Settlement, architecture that works.” His researches on informal settlements make of him a radical critic questioning the current functional housing concepts of the time. [14] Inspired by his explorations of the cultural and spatial qualities of informal housing in the city of Lima in South America, where he found a lot of essential positive qualities, he argues against the top-down and ready-to-use housing solutions generated by a modernist planning, that in his opinion are too expensive and inflexible. [15] He underlines the importance of housing developed by the inhabitants themselves. According to Turner, informal housing generates more freedom for the inhabitants than formalized housing does because it is based on self-regulation and self-determination, both creating responsibility for the environment as well as a sprit of civic pride. Due to its non-hierarchical and non-determined structures, informal housing is able to absorb spatial and programmatic changes much more sophisticatedly than the modernist housing of the post-industrial world. [16] Another important attack on the supposed cultural superiority of the modernist approach was expressed in the manifesto “Non-plan: An Experiment in Freedom” published only one year later in 1969 in New Society, a magazine that gave “houseroom to all kinds of uncomfortable ideas, especially those that put some kind of time bomb under conventional mainstream opinion” [17] In an interview with Philipp Oswald the architect Cedric Price as one of the authors of Non- plan opposes the modernist concept of the spatial segregation of functions and the overprotection of housing by a blanket of restrictions as well as the over-determination of space. He emphasizes the importance of diversity and the mixture of activities. In his opinion architects should generate choices for inhabitants by spatial flexibility and they certainly should not be bothered by an elitist aesthetical taste. Housing should not be dominated by aesthetics but by the patterns of use. According to Price, diversity and mixture can not be ruled nor managed by attempts to impose them from above. He sees diversity as a matter of process in time, contrary to rational planning and design. [18] Turner, in his appreciation of the qualities of informal housing and Price, in his radical pleading for the self-determination of inhabitants both combine a smart anti-modernist approach with a regardless attitude towards the single-perspective evolution of modernist housing as glorified by influential historians as Pevsner, Giedion and Richardse. Both critics describe the limits of rational planning and the immense gap between the utopia promised by the modernists and the monotony of everyday life in the realized settlements. They both describe some elementary qualities of the “spontaneous city” that are completely disregarded in modernist concepts like the non-hierarchical horizontal planning, the functional diversity, the spatial differentiation and flexibility as well as the participation of users, all being aspects that could become more relevant again in the future. Turner’s and Price’s argumentations seem to have a lot in common with recent studies of Rem Koolhaas on the informal growth of Lagos, the capital of Nigeria. [19]. Lagos is a more

significant example of the metropolis of the 21st century than any city of the North according to Koolhaas. In his opinion, the cities of the South by developing low-profile, informally and spontaneously are a much better answer to life’s everyday demands and should be seen as example for the over-the-top organized and formalized inflexible cities of the North, and no longer the other way round. I personally do not agree with all of his arguments and I especially do reject his arrogance towards the poor living conditions as well as his cynical acceptation of the poverty of the inhabitants. But Turner, Price and Koolhaas have a significant aspect in common, although their criticisms are based on different motives. Where Turner and Price emphasize the negative influence of centralised planning on social structures and the diversity of housing, Koolhaas is very passionate in his radical rejection of modernist planning as an unsuitable tool for any post-industrialised city [20]. But in my view they meet one another in their doubts concerning the lack of transformative powers in modernism as well as in their denial of the cultural superiority of modernist planning against any organic development in general. Modernism has lost its supposed superiority because it has lost its power to emancipate. It is transformed into an authoritarian approach, creating restrictions by rules, laws and compulsive planning efforts. It has generated a lack of freedom and participation for those it was meant for. The utopian glory has vanished Without any doubt this radical criticism is an important step towards a more realistic valuation of the principles of modernist city development and architecture. But in my view, also very important for the changed perception of the modernist approach are its realized results. Although designed with more or less architectural quality, almost everywhere in the world modernist suburban expansions had lost their utopian glory within fifteen years after their completion. The once very optimistic futurist approach that still can be perceived in the presentation drawings and early pictures vanished within a short time when it became obvious that the anonymity of mass housing projects in combination with the segregation of activities, functions and flows easily could lead to a lack of social contact and control. The inhabitants felt not responsible to care for the often immense public spaces in and around the building complexes and this lead to a quick deterioration. The huge modernist suburban complexes, often planned in times of housing shortage, did indeed offer a first decent housing to young adults and families. But obviously in the long run this kind of housing, although supposedly planned with all the inhabitants needs in mind, did not meet all their demands and the middle-class inhabitants left. It proofed itself not able to suit the changing complexity and diversity of everyday life. A great part of the modernist suburbs are now inhabited by those in need of housing and not being able to find it anywhere else, but not out of a deliberate choice decided to live here. What are the consequences of the criticism on the conceptual and cultural value of the modernist approach on one hand and its almost traumatic failure on the other hand? How do we as designers and architects react to the glowing utopian approach of the Ville Radieuse being drowned in the everyday melancholy of the modernist reality? Today the values and shortcomings of strict modernist concepts are seriously re-discussed by many authorities and professionals while on the other hand the glorious utopian concept offering all the solutions apparently still has followers. I will briefly explore this contradiction in two cases. At first the currently revised suburb “Bijlmermeer” constructed forty years ago in the Netherlands, a country with probably the most formalized and rationalized planning in the world. As second “New Adapazari” a city

thats relocation recently started in Turkey, a country where urban development is highly marked by spontaneous and informal processes. Bijlmermeer, the revision of a modernist suburb Bijlmermeer, a suburban housing area near Amsterdam for approximately 60.000 inhabitants was developed in the 1960s at the peak of the power of modernist city planning and architecture. It was planned to be inhabited by an average middle-class population of car- owners, more or less sharing the same lifestyle and preferring the clean, silent and low dense suburb settlements above the congestion in the old parts of Amsterdam. The spatial structure of Bijlmermeer is based on a rectangular pattern of elevated motorways dividing the area into numerous islands. Thirty identical high-rise flat-buildings, each with approximately 400 dwellings in 11 storeys, are positioned geometrically in a honeycomb- pattern. They surround huge public yards with an English style landscape architecture. The juxtaposition of the flat-buildings was determined by the sun simulator, creating identical qualities for each dwelling. The idea of equality was an important factor in the social democrat ideology dominant at the time. Residential and commercial functions are strictly separated as is the circulation of cars, public transport and pedestrians. The spatial cohesion of the traditional city shape, where streets and squares are spatially defined by the surrounding buildings, is given up. The flat-buildings and elevated motorways are not connected to each other. Huge public and communal spaces dominate the Bijlmermeer, there are no individual spaces except for the dwellings. This reflects the high valuation of communality in the 1960s, impressively emphasized in the original drawings in which the everyday communal activities as playing, picnicking and walking are celebrated in a way that refers to the famous images of the Golden Lane Project by Alison and Peter Smithson. Public life is split into two different levels, following the concept of spatial and programmatic segregation. The first floor level provides circulation and traffic space. On this level the elevated motorways connected to the parking garages give access to the indoor pedestrian streets, and the elevators can be entered through skywalks. The ground floor is mainly seen as a recreation area and is exclusively accessible by pedestrians and cyclists, separated completely from any car traffic. With its curved paths and varied spatiality, this terrain evokes images of a picturesque world and it differs extremely from the world above with its monotonous spatiality in the repetitions of identical blocks. In contrast to the subtle spatial differentiation of the public space, the 12.500 high-rise dwellings are characterized by uniformity with only a few different dwelling types due to the continuous repetition of identical blocks as well as for economic reasons. All dwellings are accessed through public galleries and the interior organization of the apartments is based on a not flexible standard pattern. Early criticism and predictions become reality As early as in the 1960s, criticism emerges on the design of Bijlmermeer. It is inspired for a great deal by the writings of authoritative theorists of the time as Kevin Lynch in “The Image of the City” from 1960 and Jane Jacobs’ publication “The death and the life of Great American Cities” from 1962. Both writers do underline the importance of the “complexity of the city” from different points of view and both plea against a “tabular rasa modernism.” [21]

In 1965 the Dutch newspaper “Handelsblad” publishes an essay by T.Hazewinkel, who states that “Bijlmermeer” was planned using the city planning methods of the 30s, the technical know-how of the 60s but with the intention to represent the city of the 21st century. He criticizes the concentration of high-rise blocks, the segregation of transport systems and the overvaluation of public space. He predicts that the indefinite communal spaces will transform to boring no-man’s areas and that its costs of maintenance will be extremely high. [22] The criticisms and predictions were not taken into consideration at the time, but from 1980 on the serious doubts about the qualities of the modernist approach in general and the structural shortcomings of the spatial concept of Bijlmermeer in particular could no longer be denied. Some significant problems had emerged in the meantime. The lack of control and survey ability in the public spaces and the galleries lead to feelings of severe insecurity for inhabitants and the monotonous architecture generated a loss of spatial orientation. The radical segregation of all activities, flows, programmes, events and movements on different layers prevented any diversity and the repetition of only a few dwelling types did not respond anymore to the diversity of lifestyles that became reality in Bijlmermeer. Today Bijlmermeer is no longer a middle-class suburb as planned, but an area with a high concentration of migrants from the former Dutch colonies as well as Ghana, Morocco and Turkey and lately the former Eastern Europe. However it was meant to be, Bijlmermeer developed into an impressive melting pot with a community of great cultural and social differentiation but at the same time threatened by unemployment, poverty and criminality. Having become the first and biggest multi-cultural ghetto of the Netherlands it now has to deal with a very negative image due as well to its architectural shape as to the life-styles of some of its inhabitants. Ironically, it is just the dissident behavior of migrant inhabitants towards the use of space defined as “public” by the planners and their appropriation of the undefined spaces that opens the authorities eyes to the shortcomings of a built environment that extremely denies the needs of its inhabitants. By developing not legalized small-scale informal activities as kindergartens, clubs, cafes, shops, brothels and hotels in the undefined leftover spaces of parking garages, blocks and under elevated motorways they express the need for more functional diversification and the importance of small-scale opportunities for development in the lately inevitable renewal of Bijlmeermeer. A proven failure in search for new opportunities From 1992 on an ambitious social and spatial renewal project is set up by the Urban Planning Department and the various housing corporations that own the blocks. [23] What are the new principles for Bijlmermeer or “Amsterdam South East” as it is officially called now to avoid the negative associations stuck to its former name? Do we now see less planning, more deregulation and a powerful bottom-up approach? Due to a deep-rooted tradition of planning in the Netherlands, in this country even a concept of deregulation has to be determined in a step-by-step plan. So once again “Amsterdam South East” is developed by an army of city planners, architects, real estate advisors and other specialists, and the belief in spatial and social engineering has not been given up at all, but significant differences can be noticed.

At first the ideas of complete control and a collective lay-out were given up, “because the society can not be invented at the drawing table but will be created by the people living in Bijlmermeer” (…) Are the new plans based on another blueprint like the old ones? This would seem neither an intelligent nor a possible solution, taken the unpredictability of new developments, views and visions into consideration.” This is why the concept for the renewed Bijlmermeer is based on hybridism combining both structural cohesion and spatial flexibility. [24] The centralized overall planning is replaced by a de-centralized attitude, always trying to relate to the specific micro-scale qualities of the neighbourhoods. Attention is given to small- and medium scale interventions that strengthen the social mixture and diversity of neighbourhoods and the once strict programmatic segregation of activities, facilities, services and traffic flows are replaced by integration. [25] In the past five years a start has been made with the demolition of the number of 7500 dwellings of the original 12500. Some high-rise buildings will be completely demolished, others only partially. They will be replaced by a mixture of medium- and low-size housing and so a large variation in dwelling types and spatial differentiation is generated in the side- by-side positioned old and new urban elements. They are connected to one another by the former motorways that wherever advisable are brought back to ground level. They are transformed from simple functional access elements to hybrid strips with mixtures of activities, events and buildings positioned alongside of them. Probably the most significant spatial feature in the renewal is the alteration of the concept of unlimited collective space by re-privatization. Distinct spatial borders and transmissions between public and private are now enabling the supervision on public space and strengthening the spatial orientation. [26] Until the year 2010 Bijlmermeer, once strongly referring to the principles of the Functional City will be transformed with a breathtaking speed into the Collage City of Colin Rowe and Fred Koetter [27], a process that is marking a remarkable shift in thinking about urban housing in particular and city planning in general. I think, this shift does not only mark the simple completion of modernist planning but rather stands for a structural change in planning by finally recognizing the qualities of horizontal patterns, diversification and flexibility that are so common to informal processes. But are authorities and urban designers in general really aware of this change and the powerful opportunities that more informality offers? My personal observations let me doubt about it. I will discuss this matter by exploring the planning of “New Adapazari” in Turkey. Modernism, still a perfect solution? The city of Adapazari, 120 kilometres east of the Istanbul metropolis was severely demolished by an earthquake disaster in 1999. Approximately 19000 dwellings became uninhabitable and thousands of people were left without a roof over their head, forced to live barracks and tents. [28] The great number of victims as well as the number of demolished houses could directly be related to inadequate building technology, made possible by corruption and a maximum profit mentality. Due to the pathetic housing conditions of the victims and the loss of confidence in the construction industry a great pressure emerged on the local and national authorities, and the task to develop affordable and technical reasonable housing on geologically safe locations in a very short time became the top priority for the city council.

The irregularly grown housing in the existing city could not be reconstructed because it would be in great danger in any of the next expected earthquakes, so the municipality decided to develop a new suburb, 13 kilometres northeast of the old city centre, called Adapazari Northern Extension District, or “New Adapazari,” under the central supervision of the Ministry of Public Works and Settlement [29], that had to co-ordinate all recovering activities urban planning and architecture for the disaster hit region. The idea rose of a New Adapazari representing the spirit of a contemporary settlement organized by a visible spatial order and adequate housing along with well-cared public spaces. The principles of the master-plan as well as the shapes, dimensions and typologies of the dwellings were determined and kept under strict control by the national government. The influence of local authorities, the municipality of Adapazari or private constructors, urban designers and architects on the realized project was very little. [30] The chosen area for New Adapazari extends around several villages inhabited by a population of farmers and marked by an irregular spatiality with a rural population. The first steps of the master-plan are already taken in the areas around the villages of Camili and Karaman and the realized construction of approximately 8000 thousand dwellings and various public and commercial facilities give a clear sight at the qualities of the “New Adapazari.” The Adapazari council had compulsorily purchased the entire area, except for the already existing villages and literally developed the new settlements around the villages Camili and Karaman. The intention of the expropriation was to guarantee the efficient realization of the overall-plan in avoiding any conflicts about ownership. Although nowhere stated specifically in the official documents, the master-plan is obviously based on modernist principles like the segregation of functions and flows, the repetition of identical blocks, the emphasis on collective spaces and the implementation of industrial production methods for mass housing. According to the local authorities, the settlements should create a “healthy and modern environment where attention is given to spatial coherence.” [31] The primary spatial structures of both settlements are based on a hierarchical organic pattern of curving roads and streets that accentuates the hilly landscape by following it, dividing the area into various islands on which more or less identical blocks in a medium size are arranged. This non-geometrical lay-out together with the irregularly positioned dwelling blocks in the attractive landscape and the impressive huge public spaces are meant to generate the atmosphere of a Garden City. Special attention is given to the radical separation of housing from other functions. Social facilities and commercial functions are combined in different sub-centres. But in spite of the ambition to create an urban area based on a functional diversity New Adapazari probably will in the future stay a dormitory town. According to the data from the Iller Bank, the area of Karaman consists of 50% housing area, 25% roads and parking lots, but only 1,2% for commercial and 0,4 for cultural spaces. [32] The already built 4400 apartments in Karaman are all constructed in three and four story blocks consisting of only three dwelling types of 77, 88, and 99 m2 floor space. The two dwellings per floor are accessed by a common staircase. Special attention is given to the earthquake-proof construction. The dwellings do not have any private gardens although a significant part of the inhabitants have rural roots and before the earthquake did live in houses surrounded by gardens where they grew their vegetables. Any attempt of the

inhabitants to appropriate or cultivate public space is not allowed and the occupation of small areas to grow vegetables and fruit as any other “not planned” activities are strictly forbidden. According to information I received from a local official, the intention of these restrictions is to conserve the organized character of the settlement and to avoid any attempt that could transform the “civilized” setting of Karaman into chaotic and “primitive.” [33] The fast development of the Camili and Karaman areas as pilot-projects for “New Adapazari” is without any doubt a powerful statement in the process to generate affordable housing for thousands of victims of the earthquake disaster. The realized settlements visualize the ability of the local and national institutions to organize the construction of mass housing and social facilities in a very short time as intended. Officials of the municipality of Adapazari underline this symbolic value and emphasize their pride about this phenomenal achievement that shows the “comparability of Camili and Karaman with the well organized settlements in Western Europe.” [34] But also different opinions can be heard about New Adapazari. Baykan Günay from the Middle East Technical University, faculty of Urban Planning, criticizes the approach that is merely regarding architecture and urban planning as being the result of functions, regulations and feasibility while neglecting any physical and emotional relationships. He mentions the absence of “natural centres” within a network of streets, paths and public spaces and he specifically relates his criticism to the concept of “natural cities” introduced by Christopher Alexander, emphasizing the importance of qualities as diversity and variation which are very common to the traditionally spontaneous urban development in Turkey. [35] There is also criticism on the monotonous repetition of only a few types of dwellings. Without any research concerning the profiles, habits and lifestyles of the inhabitants, they were regarded as a homogeneous group with similar life patterns and expected to live in almost identical dwellings. [36] So far, the dwellings have poor qualities, not in terms of building technology, statistics, or the adaptation of industrial processes but in terms of architecture. Very remarkable is the complete absence of any conceptual, spatial, structural or functional relation between the old villages of Camili and Karaman and the new settlements. The villages seem to be considered as alien or hostile territory. The shapes and structures of the villages obviously do not play a role of any importance in the design of the urban plan. Meanwhile the villages go on growing informally and spontaneously while being entirely encapsulated by the modernist city, symbolizing very clearly the disregard of long known building traditions by the authorities and professionals of today. In my opinion, the rationalization of housing has lead to spatial uniformity in Camili and Karaman, it hides the existing social diversity by creating a generic reality unaware of local traditions. A contrary view on the same approach, what are the reasons? I have tried to show that the strategies for “created” as well as for “spontaneous” housing are developed within long existing traditions. In the last century created housing based on rationalized planning processes became the orthodox standard for professional urban designers and architects in the post-industrial cities of the North where the modernist approach also was originally developed, and without any questioning; it was taken over by the fast emerging cities of the South.

My explanation for the rational approach is still so often being considered as the superior one, although a lot of its shortcomings are proven, is the underlying difference in the cultural interpretation of both strategies. The rational approach is still supposed to represent a contemporary culture of progress contrary to the primitiveness of spontaneous patterns. I do personally strongly oppose this judgement and would like to argue on behalf of a self- assured re-evolution of spontaneous housing by authorities and professionals in the developing countries. I see a great paradox in the modernist principles being severely criticized or even completely rejected in countries with a much formalized planning tradition like the Netherlands, while still a significant number of urban planners and architects in the South are basing their work on these outraged concepts and deny the power of vernacular urbanity. I think the dominancy of the modernist approach should be avoided and the qualities of a vernacular approach should be sincerely explored with the aim of a structural integration in urban planning and design. Housing projects based on massive overall-plans should be replaced by small size projects to guarantee more diversification and variation. Open competitions should be held to find the urban designers most creative and capable for the project. Opportunities for spontaneity, individuality, flexibility, diversity, complexity, participation and also a part that is indefinite should form the key qualities of housing. I am convinced that the qualities of everyday life, in other words the complexity of the “lived space” as mentioned by Henri Lefebvre should determine the principles of housing, instead of a so called scientific approach with a totalitarian planning. While everyday life “is the object of philosophy, it is inherently non-philosophical; while conveying an image of stability and immutability, it is transitory and uncertain; (…) while unbearable in its monotony and routine, it is festive and playful; and while controlled by technocratic rationalism and capitalism, it stands outside of them.” [37] References (1) The Turkish architect and theorist Dogan Kuban writes, “Briefly, we are a society without an urban tradition based on organization and order. (….) The relation between urban space and the behaviour of Turkish people has to be marked as a significant cultural problem. This is why the creation of a civilized environment is depending on the solution of this problem. We to organize urban space and will learn to use it respectable. [translation by H.Yegenoglu] (Kısacası, örgütlenmiş, düzenlenmiş kent mekanı geleneği olmayan bir toplumuz (…)Kent mekanı ile Türk insani arasındaki ilişki önemli bir kültür sorunudur. Çünkü uygar cevre kurulusu bu sorunun çözümlenmesine bağlıdır. Kent mekanlarını örgütleyecek ve düzenli bir şekilde kullanılmasını öğreneceğiz) Doğan Kuban, İstanbul Yazıları, yapı-endüstri merkezi yayınları, 1995, p. 253 (2) Spiro Kostof, The City Shaped, Thames and Hudson, London, 1991, p.43 (3) Spiro Kostof, The City Shaped, Thames and Hudson, London, 1991, p. 106 (4) Bernard Rudofsky, Architecture Without Architects, University of New Mexico Press, 1964, p. 59 (5) Bernard Rudofsky, Architecture Without Architects, University of New Mexico Press, 1964, p. 2 (6) The Scythians formed a network of nomadic tribes of horse-riding conquerors. The location and extent of Scythia varied over time from the Altai region where Mongolia, China, Russia, and Kazakhstan come together to the lower Danube river area. When Herodotus wrote his Histories, Greater Scythia extended a 20-day ride from the Danube River (Wikipedia, The free Encyclopaedia). (7) Vitruvius, Handboek bouwkunde, translated into Dutch by Ton Peters, Athenaeum, Amsterdam 1999, p. 59

(8) Auke van der Woud, CIAM Housing Town Planning, Delft University Press, Delft, p. 72 (9) Le Corbusier quoted in Simon Parker’s Urban Theory and the Urban Experience, Routledge, London and New York, 2004, p.61 (10) At the working meetings, between 29 July and 14 August in 1933 the plans of 33 European and American cities are investigated. See the book of Auke van der Woud, CIAM, Housing Town Planning, Delft University Press, p.70 (11) DW Dreysee, Die May-Siedlungen, Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König, Stuttgart, 2000 (12) William J R Curtis, Le Corbusier, Ideas and Forms, Phaidon Press Ltd, London, 1986, p. 119 (13) Simon Parker, Urban Theory and the Urban Experience, Routledge, London and New York, 2004, p. 61 (14) John Turner quoted in Hilde Heynen, André Loeckx, Lieven De Cauter, Karina Van Herck, Dat is Architectuur, 2001, pp. 416-419. (15) John Turner quoted in, Architectural Design, August 1968, pp. 355-360. (16) John Turner quoted in Hilde Heynen, André Loeckx, Lieven De Cauter, Karina Van Herck, Dat is Architectuur, 2001, pp. 416-419. (17) Peter Hall, 2000, in www.arplus.com/book/revieuw/aug2000nonplan.htm (18) Cedric Price, Arch+ magazine, Aachen, 1991 (19) Rem Koolhaas, Stefano Boeri, Sandford Kwinter, Nadia Tazi, Hans Ulrich Obrist, Harvard Project on the City, Harvard University Press (20) “What makes this experience disconcerting and (for architects) humiliating is the city’s defiant persistence and apparent vigor, in spite of the collective failure of all agencies that act on it or try to influence it – creatively, logistically, politically. The professionals of the city are like chess players who lose to computer.” Rem Koolhaas, in “Whatever Happened to Urbanism?,” S,M,L,XL, p.961 (21) Jenneke ter Horst, Han Meyer, Arno de Vries, Sleutelen aan de Bijlmer, 1991, TU Delft, Publicatiebureau Delft, p.19 (22) Final Plan of Approach, Part I, Concept (Finale Plan van Aanpak, Deel I, Concept), Projectgroep Finale Plan van Aanpak, Stadsdeel Amsterdam Zuidoost, Woningstichting Patrimonium / Nieuw Amsterdam, Projectbureau Vernieuwing Bijlmermeer, 2001 (23) Final Plan of Approach, Part I, Concept (Finale Plan van Aanpak, Deel I, Concept), Projectgroep Finale Plan van Aanpak, Stadsdeel Amsterdam Zuidoost, Woningstichting Patrimonium / Nieuw Amsterdam, Projectbureau Vernieuwing Bijlmermeer, 2001, pp. 11-12. (24) Final Plan of Approach, Part I, Concept (Finale Plan van Aanpak, Deel I, Concept), Projectgroep Finale Plan van Aanpak, Stadsdeel Amsterdam Zuidoost, Woningstichting Patrimonium / Nieuw Amsterdam, Projectbureau Vernieuwing Bijlmermeer, 2001, p. 8 (25) Final Plan of Approach, Part I, Concept (Finale Plan van Aanpak, Deel I, Concept), Projectgroep Finale Plan van Aanpak, Stadsdeel Amsterdam Zuidoost, Woningstichting Patrimonium / Nieuw Amsterdam, Projectbureau Vernieuwing Bijlmermeer, 2001, p. 85. The area of the English park is currently decreased from approximately 160.000 m2 to 70.000 m2. A significant part of the park is replaced by private gardens and water areas. (26) Colin Rowe & Fred Koetter, De collagestad, in Dat is architectuur, uitgeverij 010, Rotterdam, 2001, pp. 520-527 (27) Bayındırlık ve Iskan Bakanlığı, Teknik Araştırma ve Uygulama Genel Müdürlüğü, Adapazarı Kuzey Gelişim Bölgesi, Cevre Düzeni Planı, Ankara, 3.11.1999, p.1 (28) Bayındırlık ve Iskan Bakanlığı (29) The master-plan of Camili and Karaman is developed by Iller Bank (Project and Grant Implementing Agency) which is a government agency supporting local municipalities. (30) İller Bankası Genel Müdürlüğü, İmar Planlama Dairesi Başkanlığı, Karaman Köyü Çevresi (Sakarya), Afetzede Yerleşim Alanı, İmar Planı Açıklama Raporu, Ankara, 1999, p.8

(31) İller Bankası Genel Müdürlüğü, İmar Planlama Dairesi Başkanlığı, Karaman Köyü Çevresi (Sakarya), Afetzede Yerleşim Alanı, İmar Planı Açıklama Raporu, 1999, Ankara, p.13 (32) Kenan Colak, Local Manager of the project Karaman and Camili, in an interview with H. Yegenoglu, held is March 2004 in Karaman (33) Tansel Yilmaz, Chief Urban Planning Department Adapazari, in an interview with H. Yegenoglu, held in March 2004 in Adapazari (34) Baykan Günay in Mimarlik, a journal of the Chamber of Turkish Architects, issue no. 309, January and February 2004, p.40 – Baykan Günay, Middle East Technical University, Faculty of Urban Planning (35) Murat Balamir in Mimarlik, a journal of the Chamber of Turkish Architects, issue no. 309, January and February 2004, pp.41 – Murat Balamir, Middle East Technical University, Faculty of Urban Planning (36) Dieter De Clercq, Everyday Urban Space in Matonge, in OASE 54, Nijmegen, 2001, p.68 (37) De Clercq quotes Mary McLeod, Henri Lefebvre’s Critique of Everyday Life. An Introduction in: Steven Harris en Deborah Berke (red.), Architecture of the Everyday, Yale Publications on Architecture, Princton, 1997, pp. 14-15.