Waterfront Regeneration

Waterfront regeneration and development represents a unique opportunity to spatially and

visually alter cities worldwide. However, its multifaceted nature entails city-building with all
its complexity, including the full range of organizations involved and how they interact. This
book examines how more inclusive stakeholder involvement has been attempted in the nine
cities that took part in the European Union-funded Waterfront Communities Project. It
focuses on analysing the experience of creating new public realms through city-building
activities. These public realms include negotiation arenas in which different discourses meet
and are created – including those of planners, urban designers and architects, politicians,
developers, landowners and community groups – as well as physical environments where the
new city districts’ public life can take place, drawing lessons for waterfront regeneration
worldwide.
This book opens with an introduction to waterfront regeneration and then provides a
framework for analysing and comparing waterfront redevelopments. Case study chapters
highlight specific topics and issues, including landownership and control, decision-making in
planning processes, the role of planners in public space planning, visions for waterfront
living, citizen participation, design-based waterfront developments, a social approach to
urban waterfront regeneration and successful place-making. Significant findings include the
difficulty of integrating long-term ‘sustainability’ within plans and the realization that
climate change adaptation needs to be explicitly integrated within regeneration planning.
The transferable insights and ideas in this book are ideal for practising and student urban
planners and designers working on developing plans for long-term sustainable waterfront
regeneration anywhere in the world.

Dr Harry Smith is Senior Lecturer at the Centre for Environment and Human Settlements in
the School of the Built Environment, Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh, UK. With
professional experience in architecture and urban planning in Europe, in recent years he has
been involved in a number of research projects focusing on the production and management
of the built environment. His research experience spans countries in Europe, Latin America
and Africa.

Dr Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari is Senior Lecturer at the School of Architecture in Edinburgh
College of Art, UK. Professionally qualified in architecture and urbanism in Uruguay she has
taught at Universidad de la Republica in Montevideo and worked as a research consultant
for the Organization of American States on coastal growth in Latin American cities. Her
main research focus is on current processes of urban development and regeneration in
Europe and Latin America.
Waterfront Regeneration
Experiences in City-building

Edited by
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

London • New York

First published 2012
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN

Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada

by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017

Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business

© 2012 selection and editorial material, Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari;
individual chapters, the contributors

The right of Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari to be identified as the authors of the
editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in
accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form
or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publishers.

Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks,

and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Waterfront regeneration: experiences in city-building / edited by Harry Smith and Maria Soledad
Garcia Ferrari.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Waterfronts–North Sea Region–Case studies. 2. Communication in city planning–North Sea
Region–Case studies. I. Smith, Harry (Harry C.) II. Garcia Ferrari, Maria Soledad. III. Title:
Experiences in city-building.
NA9053.W38W36 2012
711’.42–dc23
2011034260

ISBN: 978-1-84407-673-4 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-0-203-13337-8 (ebk)

Typeset in Sabon
by Domex e-Data Pvt. Ltd. (India)
Contents
List of Figures and Tables vii
List of Contributors xi
Preface xiii
Acknowledgements xvii
List of Acronyms and Abbreviations xix

Part 1: Context and Key Issues for Waterfront Regeneration 1

1 Introduction: Sustainable Waterfront Regeneration around the

North Sea in a Global Context 3
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

2 Negotiating City-Building in Waterfront Communities around the

North Sea: An Analytical Framework 17
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

Part 2: Case Studies of Waterfront City-Building

Processes around the North Sea 33

3 Physical and Institutional Resources in Sustainable Waterfront

Regeneration: Landownership, Land-Use Control and Leadership 35
Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari and Harry Smith

4 Urban Vitality: Social Supervision in Schiedam, The Netherlands 55

Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere

5 On Dialogues and Municipal Learning in City-Building: Examples from

Waterfront Development in Gothenburg 73
Joakim Forsemalm and Knut Strömberg

6 Experiences in Participation in the Port City of Hamburg 95

Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

7 Harbourscape Aalborg: Design-Based Methods in Waterfront Development 115

Hans Kiib

8 How Visions of a Living City Come Alive: The Case of Odense, Denmark 137
Solvejg Beyer Reigstad

9 Successful Place-Making on the Waterfront 153

Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari, Paul Jenkins and Harry Smith
vi  contents

10 Design Strategies for Urban Waterfronts: The Case of Sluseholmen in

Copenhagen’s Southern Harbour 177
Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari and Derek Fraser

Part 3: Conclusions 201

11 Lessons from Shared Experiences in Sustainable Waterfront Regeneration

around the North Sea 203
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

References 217
Index 227
list of figures and tables
Figures
3.1 Plan of the City of Edinburgh in 1831, including planned
improvements, by John Wood and Thomas Brown 36
3.2 Granton masterplan and approximate major landownership
areas, Edinburgh 42
3.3 Proposed hierarchy of public space in the Leith Docks
Development Framework, Edinburgh, 2005 43
3.4 Aerial view of Gateshead Quays, showing BALTIC and the
Millennium Bridge and the Sage Gateshead 45
3.5 Map from 2010 Gateshead Quays masterplan showing phasing
and landownership 46
3.6 Hull city centre masterplan strategic development areas 48
3.7 One Humber Quays 49
4.1 Schiedam inner city 61
4.2a and b Activity changes space: A skating rink on the station forecourt 64
4.3 Children filling in a questionnaire 66
4.4 Residents presenting their vision 66
5.1 Location of the three case study waterfront regeneration areas in
Gothenburg: Södra Älvstranden, Långgatorna and Östra Kvillebäcken 74
5.2 Södra Älvstranden from the south-west before the opening of the tunnel 76
5.3 Södra Älvstranden traffic situation before the opening of the tunnel 77
5.4 Dialog Södra Älvstranden logotype 78
5.5 The visions provided by the architectural firms in the parallel
commissions have not much in common with the dreams of the
citizens six years earlier 80
5.6 Långgatorna, Gothenburg 82
5.7a and b Retail and low-density buildings in Långgatorna, Gothenburg 84
5.8 Östra Kvillebäcken – Gothenburg’s ‘Gaza strip’ according to
popular perception as covered by local media 87
5.9 Östra Kvilleäcken, Gothenburg: City centre to the lower right end
along the dotted line, representing the tram line 90
6.1 Ladder of participation and wheel of participation 97
6.2 View of 19th-century buildings in Speicherstadt, the historic
warehouse district 99
6.3 Model of the HafenCity project in the HafenCity InfoCentre 102
6.4 Dalmannkai, the second quarter to be completed in HafenCity,
with floating pontoons in the foreground and a historic crane 104
viii  list of figures and tables

6.5 From the Marco Polo terraces in Western HafenCity, the port and
industry of Wilhelmsburg were visible in the distance before western
HafenCity’s southernmost plots were developed 106
7.1 The twin city Aalborg 116
7.2 Photo-collage from the Harbourscape Workshop 2005 118
7.3 The ‘reverse-thinking’ model: Life–space–edge–buildings 122
7.4 The ‘Spine’ concept for the ‘Fjord City’ 123
7.5 ‘The blue square’ in the middle of the twin city 124
7.6 Four new prototypes of hybrid bridges 126
7.7 The Residential Bridge 127
7.8 Current plans to demolish the large industrial buildings in the
central part of the harbour are a bad idea 129
7.9 The industrial waterfront – a mono-functional structure but with
an astonishing wealth of typologies 130
7.10 Urban voids larger than the whole city centre of Aalborg 132
7.11 Masterplan for temporary use 133
8.1 Overview of Harbour Square, Odense 140
8.2 The deserted Kalvebod Brygge, Copenhagen 144
8.3 Ørestad North, with no squares to meet 145
8.4 The opera in Oslo: The roof is a public space 146
8.5 Twelve quality criteria to evaluate city space 148
8.6 Activities and weather 149
8.7 Odense harbour life 151
9.1 View of Exhibition Square, Gateshead Quays 158
9.2 View of iconic buildings along Gateshead Quays 159
9.3 Aerial view of Aker Brygge, Oslo 161
9.4 View along promenade overlooking the fjord, Aker Brygge, Oslo 163
9.5 Use of the public realm on the waterfront in Aker Brygge, Oslo 165
9.6 The Turning Torso, Malmö 166
9.7 Domestic-scale environment with eco-houses, Malmö 168
9.8 Boardwalk at Bo01, with medium-rise perimeter buildings,
Malmö 169
10.1 Plan of Copenhagen showing four main harbour areas 184
10.2 South Harbour masterplan 185
10.3 Sluseholmen masterplan 186
10.4 Cross-canal image showing corner apartments and flanking
double duplexes 188
10.5a and b Perimeter block with apartment buildings and duplex town
houses 190
10.6 Vista along the central curved roadside canal showing the variety
of apartment buildings 194
 list of figures and tables    ix

10.7a and b Courtyard view of double duplexes and ‘Venice’ view from
the courtyard across the canal 196
10.8 Sluseholmen eastern edge showing existing boathouses and the
new landmark ‘Metropolis’ tower 198

Tables
1.1 Partners in the Waterfront Communities Project 13
1.2 Waterfront Communities Project themes and lead partners 13
List of Contributors
Joakim Forsemalm has a PhD in ethnology and is a researcher at the Gothenburg Research
Institute (GRI) at Gothenburg University, Sweden, and works as a consultant at Radar
Architecture and Planning. Joakim’s thesis, Bodies, Bricks and Black Boxes (2007), is
concerned with the assembling of urban identity. Joakim conducts research on regional and
local development from post-human perspectives and with ethnographic methods.

Kees Fortuin trained as a psychologist at the University of Utrecht, The Netherlands. After
working as a researcher at the Verwey-Jonker Institute for 26 years, he started his own
business in 2008 (Fortuin Sociale Gebiedsontwikkeling), specializing in ‘social area
development’. He has an interest in the interaction of social and physical development
processes and, more generally, in social strategies for value creation. He has been a social
supervisor in Schiedam, Zaanstad and Alkmaar. He contributes as a lecturer to the Masters
in City Developer (Erasmus University, Technical University of Delft) and the Masters in
Social Intervention (University of Utrecht). He is a member of the editorial board of the
Journal of Social Intervention and of Vitale Stad (Vital City).

Derek Fraser is a senior lecturer at the School of Architecture, Edinburgh College of Art, and
coordinator of the Diploma/Masters programme. He taught at the International Laboratory
of Architecture and Urbanism (ILAUD) in Venice; the International Design Studio of
Architecture and Urbanism (IDSAU) in ETSAB Barcelona; the IFHP Summer School,
Helsinki; and the Amsterdam Academy of Architecture. Derek coordinates the staff/student
exchange with the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), USA. His teaching exchange with
the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen has helped to inform his research
interests in modern Danish housing and urban design – built form typologies. He is a Fellow
of the Higher Education Academy and an assessor for the UK annual Civic Trust Awards.

Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari is a senior lecturer at the Edinburgh School of Architecture
and Landscape Architecture, University of Edinburgh, UK. Professionally qualified in
architecture and urbanism in Uruguay, her research focuses on current processes of urban
development and regeneration in Europe and Latin America. Dr Garcia Ferrari taught in the
Faculty of Architecture in Montevideo, the University of Seville, and has been invited speaker
to the School of Architecture, San Pablo University, in Madrid. She is currently programme
director for the BA/MA (Hons) Programme in Architecture in Edinburgh. While a research
officer for the Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland, she worked on the development
of the organization’s research strategy and coordinated projects in architectural research.

Paul Jenkins is an architect and planner and has worked during the past 40 years across a
wide range of built environment fields: architecture, construction, housing, planning and
urban studies – in practice, policy-making, teaching/training and research. A major element
of his work focuses on social and cultural issues and much of his work is in the global
‘South’, mainly sub-Saharan Africa, but also Brazil. His work in the ‘North’ (UK and
Europe) includes architectural research development within academia and the profession,
and research/knowledge development between these and other social partners. He currently
teaches urban design and urban history.
xii  list of contributors

Hans Kiib is an architect and professor in urban design at the Department of Architecture,
Design and Media Technology, Aalborg University, Denmark, where he teaches and conducts
research. His research is related to urban transformation and design, cultural planning, art
and urbanism, and design methodology. Hans has produced a comprehensive range of
articles and monographs in the field, including the following books: Instant City@Roskilde
Festival, Performative Urban Design, Architecture and Stages in the Experience City, Excite
City.DK and Harbourscape.

Freek de Meere is manager of the research group Citizenship, Safety and Social Vitality of
the Verwey-Jonker Institute, The Netherlands. He specializes in the field of governance,
especially on local social policies. He received his PhD in 1996 on a quantitative study on
people’s images of technology, risks and society at the Faculty of Social Sciences of the
Erasmus University in Rotterdam. At the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam he was lecturer on
governmental decision-making processes until 2003. His research at the Verwey-Jonker
Institute is aimed at city improvement, local safety issues and civil society.

Solvejg Beyer Reigstad is an urban designer, educated at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts,
School of Architecture in Copenhagen. Solvejg has worked with urban exhibitions at the
Danish Centre for Architecture and was from 2007 to 2011 head of development in the
Ørestad North Group, an association which worked with temporary and permanent urban
projects, communication and networks in a new city district in Copenhagen. Solvejg has
been centre coordinator at the Centre for Public Space Research, assisting Jan Gehl in his
research, and was academic partner for Odense Municipality in the Waterfront Communities
Project (Interreg IIIB). Solvejg is now working as project manager at Gehl Architects (www.
gehlarchitects.dk).

Harry Smith is a senior lecturer and director of the Centre for Environment and Human
Settlements at the Institute for Urban and Building Design, School of the Built Environment,
Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh, UK. With professional experience in architecture and
urban planning in Europe, during recent years he has been involved in a number of research
projects focusing on the production of the built environment, ranging from the relationships
between state, market and civil society in urban development and housing processes to
building and urban design issues, with a particular focus on participatory approaches. His
research experience spans countries in Europe, Latin America and sub-Saharan Africa.

Knut Strömberg is emeritus professor in urban design and development at the Department
of Architecture at Chalmers University of Technology in Gothenburg, Sweden. His research
focuses on processes and tools for urban design and development. He is founder of Urban
Laboratory Gothenburg, a platform for cooperation between academia, politics, business
and civil society. He has been initiator and facilitator for several design and problem-
structuring dialogues in the field of urban development. He has written (and cooperated in)
a large number of books and articles, among them New Urbanism and Beyond: Designing
Cities for the Future (ed T. Haas, Rizzoli, NY, 2008).
Preface
In a historical sense, waterfront regeneration as part of the rebuilding of cities is a timeless
activity. The Greeks, Romans and Byzantines all engaged in harbour-building and waterfront
renewal in response to changing political, economic and geological circumstances. In historic
Ravenna, for example, its designation during the first century AD as a central strategic point
for the Roman Imperial Fleet saw its fishing harbour regenerated into a major military port.
The arrival of the Byzantines, and the city’s designation as capital of the Western Roman
Empire, saw the entire harbour moved to a more spacious location in the nearby town of
Classe. Today, 2000 years later, Classe is landlocked by siltation of lagoons and Ravenna’s
harbour is miles away but still busy.
There is a significant difference, however, in current interest in waterfront regeneration,
which is that the interest is now virtually global, with harbours from Baltimore to Singapore
and from Hamburg to Sydney all engaged simultaneously in regeneration. This in itself is not
surprising in that the challenge of waterfront regeneration is a response to processes of
globalization. This is one of the first key themes of this valuable book, which unpacks the
impact of globalization and links harbour regeneration to processes of city-building in that
global context. The book argues that waterfront regeneration and development represents a
unique opportunity to structurally and visually alter cities worldwide. The complexity of
city-building includes the range of actors and organizations involved and how they interact,
including involvement of local communities and the wider public in the city, both in the
process and in benefiting from the resulting places developed.
A second theme of this book is assessment of regeneration processes within a sophisticated
analytic framework which takes an integrated perspective on the process of place-making,
recognizing that everything from decisions on strategic regional planning to decisions on
detailed urban design will have a bearing on the quality of place created by regeneration. In
regenerated waterfronts the nature of the places that have emerged – in social and cultural
terms – is hotly debated. Key issues include how are these places created; who is involved in
their creation; who benefits from the new waterfront; what should the state’s involvement
be; should all cities follow the development model based on attracting increasingly footloose
investment; what is the appropriate balance between commercial and residential and between
public and private space; and what makes some waterfronts more socially and culturally
attractive? These are examples of the fascinating issues which the reader will confront in this
book.
A third important theme is the book’s linkage of theory and practice, a fundamental
objective of modern social science. This brings us to the origin and inspiration for Waterfront
Regeneration: Experiences in City-Building, which is in a research project called the
Waterfront Communities Project (WCP), funded by the section of the European Commission
focused on the North Sea. This highlights a great strength of both the project and book
which is the grounding of theoretical analysis and an understanding of the value of the
theoretical perspective in hard-headed practical experience of real waterfront regeneration.
The WCP involved nine North Sea port cities, all engaged in physical, economic and social
regeneration. In many ways the experience of these North Sea ports, many active since at
least the time of the Hanseatic League, mirrors the experience of waterfront cities around the
world, now or in the future. In the past, the North Sea’s traditional harbours and ports were
gateways to cities and towns and vibrant communities in their own right. Changes in cargo
xiv  preface

handling technology, the decline of the fishing industry and the consolidation of business in
fewer larger ports have left smaller harbours with little economic activity and large amounts
of disused former industrial land. Even large ports such as Hamburg find the cargo business
moving away from the traditional town-side harbour. These factors have contributed to
rising unemployment in traditional harbour areas and waterfront communities characterized
by physical dereliction and social deprivation.
At the same time, increasing pressures on land use in the North Sea’s urban areas during
recent years has led many cities to rediscover their waterfronts, earmarking them for
redevelopment. These areas offer potential for high-quality urban regeneration characterized
by a vibrant mix of refurbished historic buildings and new developments. With new
economic activity, employment and housing, and a lively mix of households, new waterfront
neighbourhoods can contribute to any port city’s overall development ideals.
It is not enough, however, simply to build new buildings or to refurbish old ones. Given
the importance of waterfront areas, it is vital to create real communities and re-establish
links between the waterfront and the wider urban fabric. This presents major challenges in
planning, urban design, citizen participation and infrastructure. Regeneration therefore
needs to be carried out to a clear programme to meet multiple social, economic and physical
objectives within a sustainable framework. Part of the solution to the economic decline of
older traditional businesses is to create new sources of employment in waterfront areas in
the high-tech, knowledge-based industries of the 21st century. However, this brings with it
the risk that regeneration is dominated by the interests of speculative property development,
ignoring local residents’ pressing need for socio-economic renewal and wider public
benefit.
Another risk is superficial redevelopment aimed at providing housing for wealthy
households and/or tourist facilities, while ignoring the need for the social inclusion of
existing residents and neighbourhoods. This is a particular factor in areas seeing an influx
of new residents from socially excluded groups, such as recent immigrant groups, and
increases the need to make redevelopment socially and economically inclusive and therefore
sustainable. This suggests that redevelopment must be done in a way that fosters not only
quality urban design but also better citizen participation, so that citizens are part of the
process rather than just the recipients of the results. Involving citizens means better decisions,
better implementation and more positive attitudes to local government.
So for both the WCP and this book, the North Sea’s port cities have been test beds for
urban regeneration, leading-edge sustainability and quality in the built environment. A key
aspect of the WCP and the knowledge base which informs this book has been practical
linkage between cities and research organizations working to an ‘action research’ model. The
first step in the process was the linkage of the lead partner, Edinburgh City Council, with its
academic partner, Heriot-Watt University, with the partnership between city and research
organization being mirrored in each of the nine port cities.
In the form of the action research model used here, city governments agreed a working
relationship with a local research organization to undertake a collaborative effort in which
groups of practitioners worked with researchers to better understand their own institutional
environment and how best to tailor their responses to that environment to achieve
organizational and policy objectives. In this context, cities and local research organizations
work steadily to improve the quality of governance – as it unfolds. This means politicians
and local government officers, citizen representatives and other players discussing their
concerns over policies with the research team, thereby getting critical but constructive
feedback at the time when it is most useful. It requires openness on the part of cities as well
as a proactive, involved approach to research.
 preface    xv

Action research in organizations is intended to produce direct results in terms of

innovation in policy, planning and implementation. This newer approach to research can be
contrasted with traditional methods of enquiry in the social sciences which require that the
primary objective of research remains unaltered during the research process and that the
research is neutral and dispassionate throughout the process. The action research approach,
on the other hand:

• involves direct or indirect intervention by researchers in the process that they are
studying, thus altering that process on an on-going basis;
• emphasizes constructive reflection on the day-to-day business of urban management and
unlocks ‘learning-by-doing’ from that process;
• replaces the neutral observer with a multidisciplinary learning group;
• uses pluralistic evaluation characterized by concern for institutional functioning,
monitoring of project implementation, subjective views of major constituent groups, and
a variety of data sources brought to bear for evaluation; and
• always attempts to generate adaptable learning from urban management experiences.

This book arises from that partnership between port cities and the researcher-authors of the
book’s various chapters. This linkage generated real benefits in developing a knowledge base
in which research organizations’ systematically assessed practical experience and derived
learning that can be reinterpreted in different contexts. At the end of the WCP project it was
found that the academic partners in the project had generated a substantial body of academic
learning – far more than could be incorporated within the final report of the project. This
gave rise to the inspiration for this book, to capture that learning so that it can also inform
waterfront regeneration processes around the world.

Professor Michael Carley (retired), Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh 2011

Acknowledgements
The action-research this book draws on would not have been possible without the
participation of the local authorities that took part as partners in the Waterfront Communities
Project, which was funded by the European Union Interreg IIIB North Sea Programme: the
Municipality of Aalborg and the Municipality of Odense in Denmark; Gateshead Council
and Kingston-Upon-Hull City Council in England; TuTech Innovation GmbH (on behalf of
the Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg) in Germany; the Municipality of Schiedam in The
Netherlands; Oslo City Council in Norway; City of Edinburgh Council in Scotland; and
Gothenburg City Council in Sweden. This collaboration was led by the Project Management
Office established by the City of Edinburgh Council, with support from Heriot-Watt
University as the lead academic partner.
We would like to thank all the contributors to this book for their constructive comments
on the analytical framework that is presented in Chapter 2, as well as for their engagement
with this framework in their respective chapters.
We are also grateful to the School of the Built Environment at Heriot-Watt University,
and to Edinburgh College of Art, for funding the editors’ participation in waterfront and
port city conferences in Hamburg (The Fixity and Flow of Urban Waterfronts, 2008) and
Antwerp (Port Cities: Make Way for the Economic Initiative, 2011), which provided
opportunities to test the ideas developed in this book with wider audiences, as well as to
gather further information on current and future waterfront regeneration issues and
challenges in practice.
Further thanks go to Edinburgh College of Art for funding the fieldwork that served as
a basis for the research on Copenhagen’s waterfront presented in Chapter 10, thus adding a
further interesting experience to the case studies analysed in this book.
Finally, the ideas and cases presented in this book would not have emerged without the
discussion forum generated in our academic environments and the participation, interest and
enquiring minds of our students at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh College of Art and the
University of Seville.
List of Acronyms and Abbreviations
ABP Associated British Ports
AIVP Association Internationale de Villes et Ports (International Association
of Cities and Ports)
BID business improvement district
CCTV closed-circuit television
CMP Copenhagen Malmø Port AB
CPH Copenhagen (used in CPH City and Port Development)
EU European Union
GHS Gesellschaft für Hafen-und Standortentwicklung
IBA Internationale Bauausstellung (International Building Exhibition)
ICE Institution of Civil Engineers
IGS International Garden Show
IT information technology
NGO non-governmental organization
NID neighbourhood improvement district
NUAB Northern Riverbank Development Corporation, Gothenburg
PPS Project for Public Spaces
RIBA Royal Incorporation of British Architects
TEU twenty-foot equivalent unit
TIF tax increment financing
UK United Kingdom
ULG Urban Laboratory Göteborg
URC urban regeneration company
US United States
WCP Waterfront Communities Project
 Part 1

Context and Key Issues for

Waterfront Regeneration
1
Introduction
Sustainable Waterfront
Regeneration Around the
North Sea in a Global Context
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

The spread of waterfront regeneration since the 1960s

The phenomenon of urban waterfront regeneration and development has
spread geographically since its origins in North America during the 1960s and
1970s, where initial transformations in industrial buildings, creation of public
spaces and celebration of festival marketplaces in cities such as Baltimore, San
Francisco and Boston provided examples of what could be achieved in
waterfront areas close to the city centre that had become abandoned or
rundown. Over the next few decades other cities around the world started to
regenerate and develop their waterfronts, first trying to follow the models of
the pioneering North American cities and later developing their own approaches.
This was driven by the obsolescence and abandonment of vast industrial areas
in cities which have been entering a ‘post-industrial’ phase, including areas of
former port activity freed up by the industrialization and containerization of
port activity, with waterfronts being described by Bruttomesso (2001, p.40) as
‘an essential paradigm of the post-industrial city’.
Bruttomesso (2001) identifies three types of activity which waterfronts
normally require:

• ‘recomposition’: giving a common unitary sense to the different parts, both

physical and functional, of the waterfront;
• ‘regeneration’: revitalizing urban areas which can be of considerable size
and often centrally located; and
• ‘recovery’: the restructuring and restoration of existing buildings and
structures.

Typically, these are linked to initiatives aiming to ‘re-join’ the city and the
waterfront physically and functionally. Such responses have evolved during the
four decades of waterfront development and regeneration experience. Bruttomesso
(2001) identifies a ‘globalization’ of waterfront themes in the sense that certain
    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

‘models’ of waterfront development based on successful cases have set precedents

and been copied worldwide, with a concomitant international uniformization of
organizational methods, spatial typologies and architectural forms.
Shaw (2001) distinguished three generations of post-industrial waterfront
development, the first being the early North American experiences mentioned
above which focused on creating retail and festival marketplaces. The second
generation took place mostly during the 1980s and spread around the world –
with examples including, again, Boston, Sydney, Toronto and Cape Town –
though it was in Europe that the scaling up from the initial first generation
projects was more evident, as well as the development of new organizational
models based on public–private partnerships and the extensive use of private
investment (Shaw, 2001). A paradigmatic European example of this generation
is London Docklands, with others being Barcelona and Rotterdam. Shaw
(2001) characterized the third generation as one in which the elements
developed in the first two generations are accepted into the mainstream of
development practice and used in a range of situations, from small to large
cities. He cites Cardiff Bay, Liverpool, Salford Docks and Berlin’s Wasserstadt
as European examples of this generation, with Sydney, Perth, Vancouver and a
large number of developments in Asia, including Shanghai, as worldwide
examples.
Shaw (2001) argued that a fourth generation was emerging during the first
decade of the new century. Ideas in planning and architecture, according to this
author, typically go through a 30-year cycle from radical and experimental
visions (first stage), through expansion and broader application of the ideas
(second stage), then consolidation and standardization of the ideas (third
stage), with radical review and new visions in the fourth stage (or first of a new
cycle). Although Shaw could not at the time have any certainty over what
would characterize the experience of this fourth generation of waterfront
developments in practice, he identified the context of post-1990s worldwide
economic recession as an important factor, leading to cities rethinking the use
of resources. How cities throughout these four generations of waterfront
developments have conceptualized the waterfront itself as a resource and how
they have brought other resources to bear in their regeneration and development
are key questions which help to understand both past experiences and future
potential of waterfront regeneration.
Through these successive generations of waterfront regeneration, approaches
to redevelopment have grown in complexity and breadth, from the focus on
retail and the festival marketplace experience in the early North American
examples to a greater mix of leisure and housing in later examples – a model
that has been particularly developed in continental Europe (Falk, undated).
This spread and evolution of waterfront regeneration have yielded a wealth of
experience reflecting different contexts in different regions and in specific cities.
Often, however, the products of what have been perceived to be successful
models have been copied without learning from or understanding the processes
involved in such cases (Falk, undated). This book addresses these questions
through analysing the experience of ‘fourth generation’ developments in
waterfront cities around the North Sea, exploring whether they provide the
radical reviews and visions predicted by Shaw and looking at the links between
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    

‘globalization’ (both in its widest sense and in the sense of international

replication of waterfront development models) and local determinants.
A key characteristic of recent dynamics of waterfront regeneration has been
the multifaceted nature of current processes, with gradual acknowledgement
that in many cases it entails city-building with all its complexity. To quote
Bruttomesso (2001, p.42):

On observing the main waterfront projects in detail, it is clear that one of the
essential elements is the co-presence of numerous activities which, combined in
different percentages depending on the cases, give life to new “pieces” of city,
sometimes marked by an interesting feature entailing complexity.

Indeed, such waterfront ‘pieces of city’ have often been used to test new
approaches to urban development, and in some cases they have been given a
larger role in re-launching the entire city of which they form part. This
complexity includes not only the physical and functional realms, but also the
range of actors and organizations involved and how they interact, an element
which is of particular importance in the context of changing and fragmenting
governance in which urban development increasingly takes place. However,
while waterfront regeneration and development processes are often examples
of public–private sector partnerships and of negotiations between different
authorities such as municipalities and port authorities, criticism has been
directed at the lack of opportunity for involving local communities and the
wider public in the city, both in the process and in benefiting from the resulting
places developed. Why is this so? What are the origins of the physical and
institutional legacies which provide the context for waterfront regeneration?
Understanding this requires taking a longer-term historical view, which explains
how our cities came to have such large areas of brownfield land available
around waterfronts and waterways.1

The development of waterfronts through the different

waves of globalization

Globalization and cities

At the beginning of the 21st century, a milestone is perceived in how humans
inhabit the planet in the fact that urban population has begun to outnumber
rural population (United Nations, 2004). City-building is taking place at a
faster rate than ever, both through the creation and expansion of new urban
areas and through the restructuring and renewal of existing cities and towns,
with waterfront development having a role in both types of process and being
seen as an opportunity for growth in the city.
There is no generally accepted model of how fixed human settlements
began, but rather various explanations among which the role of settlements as
trade crossroads and/or markets is prominent (Rykwert, 2000). In the Eurasian
continent, the first urban civilizations arose in river valleys, with a twofold link
to water as a resource for established agriculture (the surpluses from which
    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

allowed urban ‘non-productive’ activities to develop) and as a means of

transport for trade and travel. Later urban development connected to seas and
oceans rather than river courses and used these bodies of water as resources in
additional ways: as sources of food, as routes for trade and travel, as means to
reach other lands for conquest and colonization and, more recently, as a leisure
environment.
Such urban development connected to waterborne activities can be linked
to what Robertson (2003) has described as the ‘three waves of globalization’.
Robertson argues that during the last 500 years there have been three periods
during which technological change has facilitated a growth in global
interconnectedness, from a ‘Northern’ point of view. During the first ‘wave’,
from 1500 to 1800, there was worldwide expansion of Europe’s mercantilism,
spearheaded by Portugal and Spain during the 16th century and followed later
by England, France and The Netherlands through the activities of their
chartered companies, which brought together state patronage and private
investor capital – an expansion that was made possible through the development
of new sailing technology. The second wave was the imperialist expansion of
the 19th century, led by Britain and France, but involving also other European
countries, through which a worldwide trading system based on flows of raw
materials and food from the colonies to the imperial powers and the export of
manufactured goods by the latter was developed. The technology underpinning
this phase was steam powered. Robertson (2003) identifies the third wave of
globalization, in which we are now immersed, as having started in 1945 and
being linked to the post-World War II world order in which financial expansion
has been led by the US. This current wave has been made possible especially by
the new information and communication technologies, as well as by the
continued development of infrastructures and transport connections.
Castells (1996) explains that since World War II, rising internationalization
in production patterns took place and emerging processes of de-industrialization
and re-industrialization began to affect urban spaces. These dynamics, together
with increasing mobility and exchange, characterize a new complex and
dispersed form of economy, which needs centres for control of exchange and
information. In parallel to these economic changes, urban reconstitution
processes began to take place after World War II with the implementation of
slum clearance programmes and rebuilding of the existing fabric in each
affected country. During this period, and due to economic changes showing the
decline of cities and urban regions as centres of production, processes of
suburbanization and peri-urbanization can also be observed, producing
simultaneously prosperous and declining urban regions. In addition, with the
adoption of new technologies for their operation, industries such as railways,
gas, electricity suppliers and port authorities began to be able to work with
fewer employees and in smaller areas of land, releasing urban areas for other
uses. In particular, changes in the transport industry with the use of new
technologies such as containerization, larger ship sizes and the wider use of
road transport left large railway marshalling yards empty (Malone, 1996).
It was not until the 1970s and 1980s, however, that these changes became
more severe, with actions focused on the regeneration of urban economies and
the adaptation of declining urban areas to new economic roles hosting service
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    

employment and centres for consumption (Couch et al, 2003). Essentially,

during recent years, urban development shifted from being based primarily on
social objectives to pursuing primarily economic objectives, and from nationally
defined welfare objectives to international market competition. This focus on
competition involves the redefinition of the image of the city, weaving specific
place ‘myths’ which are created to remove the previous negative iconography
associated with economic changes, such as the decline of industrial activities
(Barke and Harrop, 1994), as an element of attracting new investment and
socio-economic activities.
The economic restructuring of the 1970s and 1980s also generated a growth
in sectoral unemployment where specific industries closed, leaving employees
jobless. This had spatial and social consequences with the emergence of deprived
urban areas and varying forms of social disruption – for example, crime, racism,
social exclusion, poverty, etc. (Marshall, 2001). Additionally, a range of
significant environmental problems emerged, such as polluted sites and air,
contaminated rivers and watercourses, and abandoned and decaying historic
buildings. These social, economic and environmental problems were identified
by city authorities, and since the 1980s significant regeneration plans have been
implemented. In this context the development of different ‘mega-projects’ took
place in many cities in the world, and these projects are occasionally associated
with specific events such as Olympic Games, world exhibitions or cultural
events. Examples include the London Docklands, Barcelona’s Olympic Marina,
New York’s Battery Park, Paris’s La Defense or Sydney’s Darling Harbour. The
overall aim of these transformations has been the provision of a new identity
for these cities away from previous industrial activities and responding to the
needs of global ‘place’ competition (Moulaert et al, 2003).
In general, the objectives of these regeneration processes cover a wide range
of issues, such as the improvement or replacement of housing stock; the
provision of new amenities; the provision of public infrastructure and spaces;
the improvement of transport systems; and upgrading of the general environment.
While these objectives could reflect similarities with the reconstruction aims of
the post-war period, there are significant differences in the processes of urban
restructuring of the last 30 years. In particular, at the city level there has been
an increase in the conception of urban places as spaces for consumption and
not for production. Cities are currently less conceived as places where goods
and services are produced for sale or transfer and more as places where people
visit, eat out, take part in events and visit cultural centres (Couch et al, 2003) –
especially in the global North.
Regeneration responds thus to a number of global needs, summarized as
follows, which tend to be based on market interests. The first is good
connectivity: a number of spaces that are not directly connected to the city can
benefit from high speed communication routes becoming new large-scale
centres for consumption (Urry, 1995). Thus, physical proximity is not a priority
but good accessibility is. The second need is image which, according to Muxi
(2004), could have two faces: nostalgic or technological. The former could be
based on the restructuring of historical areas for new uses, generally commercial
or leisure, which involves processes of ‘commercialization of memories’ (Muxi,
2004). The latter is based on hyper-technological urban developments
    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

generating intelligent iconic buildings, which are generally linked to ‘star’

architecture practitioners (Urry, 1995). And the third need is for branding and/
or emblems, which is the objective of the creation of theme areas such as
research parks, universities, business parks or theme parks, with enough
strength to generate urban concentration processes (Zukin, 1991). As a result
of these three market dynamics taking place in urban spaces, it is not generally
possible to find a unified conceptualization of the city as a totality; consequently,
urban areas may become disconnected, with increasing social and spatial
fragmentation (Soja, 2000).
Fundamentally, these dynamics of place competition show the need for
generating highly competitive environments that aim to express innovation and
technological progress in order to attract global capital. Waterfronts are, in this
context, considered as opportunities for the city as a whole. The restructuring
of these areas becomes the expression of present and future aims, and at the
same time they are reconnections between the past of the city and its future
through present actions (Marshall, 2001). The redevelopment of these areas
generally expresses physical signs of a wealthy industrial past, the social and
economic structures of which no longer exist – the physical structures often
existing but no longer used. Simultaneously, these places express the emerging
connections between the city and its water edge, which are conditioned by the
needs and possibilities of contemporary economic and social activities. The
competitive advantage of these areas and their potential to attract wealth is a
key issue and needs to be expressed in the project of regeneration. Obsolete
harbours are, in general, highly visible areas of the city and their redevelopment
not only affects the recovered area, but most significantly can influence the
image of the city as a totality by expressing new city aspirations and identities
(Marshall, 2001).

Globalization and waterfronts

Returning to the first wave of globalization and focusing on the case of Europe,
which was at the centre of the first two waves of ‘Northern’ globalization, de
Vries (1984) found that the major contributors to urban growth during the
1500 to 1800 period were capital cities, port cities and cities which were both.
Growth was more continuous in capital cities than in port cities, however, with
the fortunes of the latter depending more on changes in world trade patterns
and geopolitics. In broad terms, there was a shift in relative levels of activity
from Southern to Northern Europe, and from the Mediterranean Sea to the
Atlantic Ocean. Waterfronts were the focal points of social and economic life
for the urban areas which grew up around them and were often also fully
integrated within the urban fabric (a paradigmatic example being Amsterdam) –
though in some cases this urban fabric was that of a town which was separate
from the main city that later absorbed it (as, for example, in Edinburgh or
Valencia).
During the second wave of globalization the rapid intensification of
waterborne trade, the larger size of steam-driven shipping and the resulting
volume of shipment, together with the direct connection of docks to hinterlands
through rail, required the creation of massive and extensive infrastructures such
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    

as large extended docks, canals, railway depots, bridges, shipyards, etc. These
large infrastructures occupied whole waterfront areas, which became specialized
zones from which the public was excluded and which in many cases grew into
the water through reclamation. Although these developments were strongly
linked to rapid urban development and urbanization, first in Britain and then
in the rest of the industrializing countries of the 19th century, they also
happened in port enclaves in the colonies which were linked into the colonial
world trading system.
During the third wave of globalization, technological changes such as
containerization and the construction of even larger ships, as well as the move
of industrial activities such as shipbuilding to newly industrializing countries,
has shifted port activities further away from the core of cities to places which
allowed spacious storage and handling areas on the land side and deep
moorings on the waterside (Harms, 2003), usually to areas closer to open seas
or to areas of land which were undeveloped. In addition, due to the worldwide
market changes described above, in our post-industrial era, commercial
activities of modern ports do not need direct social contact and direct proximity
to their markets, which also contributes to the move of port activities to
locations distant from a city’s central areas.
The waterfronts which are being regenerated today are therefore generally
those developed during the second wave of globalization that peaked at the end
of the 19th century, and which have been rendered obsolete or unprofitable
through the technological and macro-economic changes described. The
redevelopment of waterfronts is not a new phenomenon, as a closer look at
economic, social and technological change in more detail within the timeframe
of each of these broad waves of globalization – with their linked forms of urban
and waterfront development – reveals shorter cycles of development and
transformation which have left as a legacy different forms of land development
and built environment. For example, Harms (2003) applied Kondratieff’s ‘long
wave’ economic cycle model, together with Schumpeter’s notion of technological
development as an initial thrust for economic development cycles, to an analysis
of the development of Hamburg from the early Industrial Revolution to the
present. Harms identified five economic cycles, each linked successively to
craft-produced machinery and steam engines; industrially produced steam
engines; electro-motors; mass motorization and production; and microelectronics
and biotechnology. Each of these created new physical infrastructures which
grew in size and specialization, in the process increasingly separating port
functions from the city. In Harms’ current fifth cycle, containerization has
finally separated port functions from the city of Hamburg, for the first time
making a port area close to the city centre functionally redundant, thus
releasing a large area of land for alternative development – in this case as a new
urban quarter.
Thus, the structural changes brought about during the second half of the
20th century by a vast expansion of worldwide trade predicated on new
markets, new forms of transport, new locations of production, new forms of
capital growth, and new forms of management and political control have led
to the resurgence of interest in waterfront spaces. However, although there are
clear links between changing political economies and waterfront redevelopment,
10    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

the nature of the places that have emerged – in social and cultural terms – has
been hotly debated. Key issues include: how are these places created; who is
involved in their creation; who benefits from the new waterfront; what should
the state’s involvement be; should all cities follow the development model based
on attracting increasingly footloose investment; and what makes some
waterfronts more socially and culturally attractive?
In waterfront cities around the world, these questions are being addressed
(or not) within very different contexts, the nature of which is to a great extent
the result of the position such cities had in the worldwide trading system that
emerged and evolved during these three waves of globalization. This book
looks at the response in a particular part of the world which was at the core of
the first and second waves, in particular, and has remained so during the third
wave of globalization – the North Sea – and examines these questions in
detail.

Waterfront regeneration around the North Sea: Key

features and challenges
Urban and economic development around the North Sea strongly exemplifies
links between port and city development. During the late Middle Ages, the
Hanseatic guilds of city merchants which emerged initially around the Baltic
Sea spread to other port cities around the North Sea, establishing a strong
network of trading routes based on linking mainly independent cities, as well
as founding new cities (along the Baltic coast). The emergence of territorial
states around the North Sea (as more widely in Western Europe) entered into
conflict with this network of cities and eventually gained military and economic
control of the trading routes. While Scandinavian countries did so in the Baltic,
The Netherlands dominated the North Sea at the end of the Middle Ages.
The Netherlands’ colonial expansion during the first wave of globalization
linked the North Sea into worldwide trading routes, mainly to the West Indies
and South-East Asia, with English and French ports developing and engaging
in these and new trade routes mainly during the second wave of globalization,
linked to the Industrial Revolution. The North Sea became a world hub of
international seaborne trade, with its relative share in worldwide shipping
freight peaking during the post-World War II period. Discovery of North Sea
oil during the 1960s spurred further growth of shipping in the region, as well
as providing a new base for economic growth and related urban development
which has benefited some countries and cities around the North Sea more than
others. Although the share of world seaborne trade through the North Sea
routes is decreasing in relative terms through the shift of the dominant global
hub of trade towards the Pacific Rim, this remains one of the areas with the
densest concentration of ships in the world, with three of its container ports
(Rotterdam, Hamburg and Antwerp) being amongst the ten busiest in the
world in terms of twenty-foot equivalent units (TEUs) in 2010.2 The share of
port activity in the economy of their related cities is, however, diminishing, with
innovations such as containerization reducing the labour force required and the
move of shipbuilding elsewhere. Labour forces in port cities around the North
Sea have therefore relied on diversifying their areas of economic activity.
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    11

A common feature of the waterfront cities around the North Sea is that they
are all located in countries which developed some form of welfare state based
on social democratic systems in the post-1945 reconstruction and development
period, though following different models (Scandinavian, German, Dutch,
UK).3 However, a revision of social democracy based on more neoliberal values
and related policy-making has taken place over the last few decades. From the
1980s onwards, UK waterfront cities were managed in an increasingly
neoliberal national policy environment, with some aspects of neoliberalism
spreading later, to a lesser degree, to the countries on the southern and eastern
shores of the North Sea. In these political economies, in general, local authorities
have their own mechanisms to propose and approve local development.
However, the role and financial support from national governments also
influences the development of some waterfront areas. In summary, in socio-
political terms, waterfront cities around the North Sea operate within
governance systems which are still broadly based on the notion of safeguarding
public interest, but in which the public sector is increasingly limited in scope
for action and requiring leverage of private capital. The need for private
investment and for increasing the role of local authorities to act with an
entrepreneurial approach has led to the creation of ‘arm’s length’ public
companies to free decision-making from state-related bureaucratic procedures
and to permit public–private partnerships to access private capital. The
institutional frameworks at city level vis-à-vis waterfront regeneration vary,
however, as the relationships between city and port authorities range from the
situation of, for example, Hamburg, where both are in the hands of the
government of Hamburg city-state (Harms, 2003), to that of Edinburgh, where
the port authority is completely independent from local government.
The physical environments that such institutional frameworks must work
with are predominantly the result of major infrastructural investments and
urban/port expansions during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Historic trade
(as well as fishing) routes were at the origins of many settlements around the
North Sea, in some cases having been pivotal in defining the actual form of
what is now the historic core, such as in the case of Amsterdam, where the city
itself was part of the port, and its economy, based on windmills and sailing
ships, to a great extent determined the city plan (de Haan, 2003). In many cities
around the North Sea this resulted in the historic waterfront now being in a
central location. However, the high intensity and large scale of construction of
rail and dock infrastructure during the 19th century resulted in such centrally
located port areas being physically separated from the inhabited city centres, a
separation which was reinforced in many cases by the development of road
systems during the mid 20th century. Building activity in these port areas
included actual creation of new land through reclamation, as well as building
a variety of infrastructures ranging from warehouses to cranes on this new or
existing land, thus generating a built legacy which is both a challenge and an
opportunity for regeneration and urban development. Heritage and urban
identity are key aspects of these processes. In addition, rejoining the city and
the waterfront is a key challenge that masterplanners and local authorities face
when redeveloping these areas.
12    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

In summary, historic waterfronts in cities around the North Sea tend to be

centrally located but often cut off from the city through infrastructural barriers,
and can have a rich built heritage. Although some of the ports linked to these
cities still have an important role in worldwide shipping, these have abandoned
the more centrally located port sites, which no longer provide traditional port-
related employment opportunities through traditional port activity. These areas
are therefore available for development of new employment-generating activity
more closely linked to the new areas of the economy which city strategies
around the North Sea are pursuing, focused on the knowledge economy in a
world system where production of primary, secondary and even tertiary goods
has shifted (and continues to shift) elsewhere, and on the leisure society,
including through tourism. This type of development is seen as being physically
supported by the creation of new mixed-use quarters where living, working and
leisure can be combined, often making use of built heritage to underpin
tourism. City authorities are also engaging with the issue of balancing
investment in economic development in these areas and addressing the equity
issues being raised by increasing socio-economic disparities, which in some
cases are linked to migrant populations which have settled in these waterfront
cities, often from the ex-colonies that the cities’ port activity thrived on during
the second wave of globalization. In opening up cities to the water again,
another challenge is the forms of use of outdoor spaces in a climate that is cold
and wet during a considerable part of the year, and which can be extremely
windy in cases where the waterfront is exposed to the open sea. In addition,
environmental issues such as climate change and sea-level rise are increasingly
requiring consideration.

The Waterfront Communities Project

This book is the result of a collaboration among academics who took part in
the European Union-funded Waterfront Communities Project. Led by
Edinburgh and involving ten partners in six countries (see Table 1.1), the
project was created to examine how more inclusive involvement of the
various stakeholders in the waterfront regeneration process and in the new
cityscapes has been attempted in nine cities around the North Sea: Aalborg,
Edinburgh, Gateshead, Göteborg, Hamburg, Hull, Odense, Oslo and
Schiedam. The learning network established by these cities’ local authorities,
with support from local academic institutions, aimed to inspire, test and
foster innovative solutions and sustainable spatial strategies for creating
socially inclusive, economically productive and high-quality environments in
restricted waterfront areas and their hinterlands. Recognizing the complexity
of waterfront regeneration as described above, the network addressed a wide
range of key themes (see Table 1.2) through an action-research approach,
thus aiming to develop an integrated approach to waterfront regeneration by
considering strategic planning, economic development, social participation
and integration, and urban design in a coherent whole, which had long-term
sustainable development as its goal.
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    13

Table 1.1 Partners in the Waterfront Communities Project

Country Project partner

Denmark City of Aalborg Council

City of Odense Council
Germany TuTech – City of Hamburg

Netherlands City of Schiedam Council

Norway Oslo City Council Waterfront Planning Office

Sweden Gothenburg City Council

UK Edinburgh City Council (lead partner)

Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh
Kingston-upon-Hull City Council
Gateshead and Newcastle city councils (led by Gateshead)

Table 1.2 Waterfront Communities Project themes and lead partners

Themes Lead city

Meeting strategic objectives Integration of waterfront development with Edinburgh

and fostering organizational city and regional strategic objectives
innovation
Visioning processes as a means of developing Gothenburg
consensus
Organizational innovation and social Schiedam
integration
Citizen participation and governance Hamburg
Setting standards for urban 21st-century city living for Europe: mixed use Gateshead
and social design quality with affordable housing
Sustainable transport and the integration of Oslo
waterfront in the urban fabric
Urban design quality and the public realm Aalborg
Harbour heritage and arts/culture as catalysts Hamburg
to redevelopment
From now to then: bridging activities to Odense
maintain the physical heritage and the local
economic structure

The project had the following objectives:

1� Develop a ‘learning network’ of participants in urban management and

regeneration processes in port cities of the North Sea region, linking city
governments, research partners, port managers and other stakeholders in a
process of mutual learning and experimentation.
2� Develop a conceptual framework for integrating knowledge of key aspects
of urban sustainable development and requirements of policy and action.
14    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

3� Bring together a database of good practice on waterfront redevelopment

from around the world that would inform innovation in each partner city
and in other cities in the North Sea region.4
4� Use action research to systematically test, monitor and evaluate good
practice techniques. The database of good practice was used to select the
most relevant techniques or methods for each city to apply to their own
waterfront areas, in the context of the nine themes, of which partner
cities decided to test one or more by applying the same methods or to
test different techniques in different national and regional settings; thus
the project covered a wide range of options. Each city considered
strategic planning, economic development, social integration and urban
design in a coherent whole. The academic partner and academic
consultants helped the cities to force the pace of innovation through
action research. The work done to test good practice techniques and
methods was systematically monitored and evaluated throughout the
course of the project.
5� Develop a best practice toolkit derived from the database of good practice,
study visits and the testing carried out by the cities. The toolkit, published
in March 2007, included guidelines for achieving successful waterfront
areas in the context of each city’s experience and focus-themes of the
project. The toolkit reported on tools and methods which can be applied to
the regeneration of waterfront areas. It was aimed to help project partners,
developers, investors, professionals and the general public in the North Sea
region and beyond to access key learning points from the Waterfront
Community Project experience.5

The project began in April 2004 and ran until 2007, with partners leading on
areas of particular interest to them and inputting information into other
themes. Each partner also developed its own regional network to maximize the
benefits of being involved in the project. Research activities were carried out in
three main phases. Phase 1 (April to September 2004) involved setting up the
project management, developing a research framework, appointing academic
consultants in each partner city, and establishing a web-based communication
strategy. Phase 2 (October 2004 to September 2006) was based on each city
working on thematic subgroups (as above). Phase 3 (October 2006 to March
2007) focused on evaluating the final outcomes of the project and disseminating
the findings through the project website and a ‘toolkit’ which was launched at
the project’s Final Symposium in March 2007 in Edinburgh. In parallel to the
key activities in each phase, the project undertook a series of activities from
research coordination to evaluation and dissemination of experiences. In
addition, staff secondments between partner cities, study visits by partners to
non-partner cities within the North Sea area and transnational meetings
between project partners were organized.
The Waterfront Communities Project research generated a number of cross-
cutting recommendations which drew on the various project themes. These are
presented in the toolkit (Waterfront Communities Project, 2007) and cover a
range of issues, including:
 introduction: sustainable waterfront regeneration    15

• the importance of developing strong but consensual views on the future

direction for the city through visioning processes, as the quality of urban
vision influences all aspects of waterfront regeneration;
• the need to develop long-range (30 to 40 years) sophisticated economic,
social and environmental strategies in order to start making such visions
operational;
• the critical nature of strong leadership by municipal and city-region
authorities in order to balance commercial opportunities created by
regeneration with a long-term flow of public benefits;
• the role of both leadership and organizational innovation to drive forward
waterfront visions and strategies through new organizational forms within
local government itself, partnerships of key stakeholders or ‘special purpose
vehicles’;
• the achievement of social integration through participation which goes
beyond ‘mere consulting’ and develops widespread support for challenging
regeneration programmes;
• the need for public investment in integrated transport and infrastructure,
seen as a key to unlocking economic and social benefits;
• landownership as a critical factor, and the mechanisms to address control
over land when this is not publicly owned; and
• the potential of urban design to achieve a ‘paradigm of urban complexity’,
creating the diversity of function and complexity of human interaction of
the typical inner-city neighbourhood.

The project also resulted in recommendations about ‘learning to learn’,

proposing the experience of the Waterfront Communities Project’s action-
research approach, which linked city governments and local research
organizations as a powerful learning model. During the project, ‘learning to
learn’ from both local success and failure, and from good practice around the
world, was seen to have the potential to pay dividends in policy, regeneration
practice changing organizational culture and job satisfaction for key players.

Learning more about waterfront regeneration

This book takes learning from the Waterfront Communities Project one step
further, by providing the results of academic reflection on the above experiences.
The close collaboration of academics with the project not only supported the
action-research approach already described, but also made a rich vein of in-depth
experience available for theoretical reflection. The focus in this book is on
analysing the experience of creating new public realms through these cities’ city-
building activities, both as negotiation arenas where different discourses  –  including
those of planners, urban designers and architects, politicians, developers,
landowners and community groups – meet and are created, and as physical
environments where the new city districts’ public life can take place, drawing
lessons for waterfront regeneration worldwide. Thus, its focus is on the interaction
between place-making and city-building processes and resulting urban
environments which support long-term social and economic sustainability. The
next chapter sets out the theoretical framework that underpins this analysis.
16    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Notes
1� Waterfront regeneration does not refer only to that taking place in coastal areas and seaports.
Many examples of regeneration which are labelled as ‘waterfront’ are located on riverbanks,
along canals, etc.
2� A widely used measure for ranking port activity is the ‘twenty-foot equivalent unit’ (TEU),
against which containers and their number are measured (http://geography.about.com/cs/
transportation/a/aa061603.htm, accessed 24 April 2011).
3� According to the Danish Royal Ministry of Foreign Affairs (2002), European countries can
be divided into four welfare models: the Scandinavian; the Anglo-Saxon (liberal); the Central
European (conservative) and the Southern European (subsidiary). The Scandinavian/universal
model is based on the notion that benefits should be given to all citizens individually (e.g.
married women have rights independent of their husbands). However, the largest share of the
financial burden is still carried by the state and financed from general taxation. The
Anglo-Saxon, on the contrary, is a needs-based model and benefits are given only to those in
need. The Central European model is achievement-oriented based on participation in the
labour market. The Southern European is also called the Catholic model and is based on
other forms of contributions for social benefits beyond the state (e.g. church, family,
community, etc.). This is an idealistic description of welfare models and, in practice, the
concepts involved are not strictly applied.
� This database can be accessed through the Waterfront Communities Project website and is
available at www.seeit.co.uk/waterfrontcp/goodprac.cfm.
� The toolkit can be accessed through the Waterfront Communities Project website and is
available at www.waterfrontcommunitiesproject.org/toolkit.html.
2
Negotiating City-Building in
Waterfront Communities Around
the North Sea
An Analytical Framework
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

On developing an analytical framework for the study

of waterfront regeneration
As explained in the previous chapter, this book builds on the experiences from
a ‘transnational’ project which brought together urban planning and regeneration
decision-makers, professionals and academics, bridging the gap between them
through action-research. In the same vein, this book aims to be of use to
practitioners, academics and students by putting forward an analytical
framework based on an approach which believes in the necessity of analysis to
understand the context in which interactions between structure and agency
take place (Giddens, 1984).1 Such understanding can aid academic investigation
of specific cases, as well as students’ learning; but in addition, importantly, it
can aid reflection in practitioners, leading to changed action. In short, the
analytical framework developed here is proposed as a tool to generate ‘critical
consciousness’ within the field of waterfront regeneration.
In this book we apply this tool to exploring some key questions deriving
from recent experiences in waterfront regeneration and development around
the North Sea, connecting this to current theoretical debate. Key questions
addressed are: to what extent does this experience reflect a new generation of
waterfront regeneration practices? What changes in the production of the built
environment underpin such practices? How do global and local processes
interact in these practices? Does waterfront regeneration around the North Sea
present particular characteristics which give it a distinctive identity?

What we know about waterfront regeneration

A substantial literature has emerged which documents, showcases and analyses
waterfront regeneration and development processes around the world.2 Several
18    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

key books in this literature (Brutomesso, 1995; Hoyle, 1996; Malone, 1996;
Marshall, 2001; Desfor et al, 2010) focus on the analysis of a range of specific
cases and are based on conferences, reflecting the proliferation of such events.
The stream of professional and academic conferences on waterfront regeneration
and development continues, often in conference centres which are part of a
waterfront regeneration project. Several organizations are key players in
promoting such conferences at an international level, including Cities on Water
(based in Italy), Association Internationale de Villes et Ports (AIVP, based in
France) and the Waterfront Center (based in the US).
Compendiums of major international waterfront regeneration projects are
provided by Breen and Rigby (1996, 1997), which include case studies from
around the world organized around topics. This kind of information is
increasingly available through online databases, including that developed as
part of the Waterfront Communities Project.3
More in-depth analysis of waterfront regeneration tends to be focused
around specific topics such as transport (Brutomesso, 1995; Hoyle, 1996) or
particular places (Dovey, 2005). Wider analysis based on a defined theoretical
framework or approach is provided, for example, by Malone (1996), who
focuses on economic and political factors from a post-structuralist critical
viewpoint that may be of more limited value to practitioners.
Waterfronts have also been used as case studies in key works on urban
sociology, such as Harvey (1989), Castells (1996) and Soja (2000). Published
analyses of waterfront experience based on explicit theoretical frameworks
(from international perspectives as well as focused on specific places) tend to
be found, however, in academic journals, which are not easily accessible to the
wider non-academic public nor, indeed, to professionals, and again tend to
focus on specific cases.
A general theme that emerges across the literature is that waterfront
regeneration is a form of, and opportunity for, city-building. In some locations
it is even identified as a ‘leading force in the future of the development of the
city’ (Bruttomesso, 2001, p.41). Although the notion of ‘city-building’ has been
criticized for implying that ‘the city is only that which the built environment
professions have physically constructed’ (Landry, 2006, p.8), it is considered
useful for the purposes of this book for two reasons. First, while ‘city-making’
(Landry, 2006) does perhaps better portray the vast array of processes through
which urban areas are created and transformed, this book is addressed
principally (though not exclusively) to readers who are engaged in the
production of the built environment in a professional role. And, second,
Landry’s interpretation of the term ‘building’ is rather narrow as it does not
appear to recognize the usages of this term to refer to activities and processes
of ‘social construction’ that accompany not only the creation of built
environments, but also city life in general – activities and processes such as
‘building trust’, ‘building relationships’, etc. In other languages, the more
holistic interpretation of ‘city-building’ is perhaps more common, such as the
Spanish language notion of ‘construir ciudad’.
Of course, if city-building is what it is about, ideas relevant to the
understanding and practice of waterfront regeneration and development can be
found not only in publications which are specifically about waterfronts. As
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    19

argued in Chapter 1, waterfront regeneration and development as it is currently

happening tends to be about the creation of ‘pieces of city’, with all the
complexity in process and product which this entails. This understanding
instantly makes large swathes of literature on urban development, land and
market economics, urban sociology, planning, urban design and architecture
relevant to the task – and the list could continue.
Such sources can provide partial answers to some of the questions posed at
the beginning of this chapter; but a more focused approach on both physical
and social aspects of the process of waterfront development and the negotiations
that take place in city-building is needed to generate a more holistic
understanding of the practice of ‘building’ these urban areas and therefore to
contribute to decisions and actions of future practitioners. This is what we turn
to next.

An analytical framework for the study and practice of

waterfront regeneration
Waterfront regeneration and development as a socio-spatial
process
Analyses of waterfront regeneration and development have been made from
different perspectives, including those of geographers, physical planners,
practitioners and critical theorists (Gordon, 1998). Based on such analyses,
some authors have identified sets of factors which are seen as essential for
waterfront regeneration, with different emphases, ranging from conceptual
criteria to procedural steps or instrumental factors. Bruttomesso (2001), for
example, identifies three key conceptual factors which significantly contribute
to the attainment of urban complexity in waterfront regeneration:

1� assigning a plurality of functions to the area – in relation to both the

regeneration area and its relationship with the rest of the city;
2� achieving a mix of activities within the redeveloped area; and
3� the co-presence of public and private functions, spaces and actors.

Between conceptual and procedural would be Eckstut’s (1986) approach to

solving complex urban design problems on the waterfront: think small; learn
from what exists; integrate; and design streets, not buildings. A more procedural
approach is Millspaugh’s (2001) set of lessons, which can be seen as instrumental
to the success of waterfront redevelopment: public–private partnership; a
masterplan; a business plan; consensus and support from the community; and
design controls.
The framework that is proposed in this book is not a ‘recipe’ for
implementation of waterfront regeneration and redevelopment programmes
and projects, but rather a conceptual framework which should enable both
analysis and action based in relation to such processes. It is based on the
premise that urban space is socially produced, and that the processes involved
are part and parcel of the processes whereby society itself is produced and
reproduced. Madanipour (1996) describes urban space as a ‘socio-spatial
20    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

entity’ and sees urban design as a ‘socio-spatial process’. Madanipour argues

that those involved in the activity of urban design (and to this we would add
activities of planning and architecture, as well as other activities that are related
to urban place-making) need to understand the intersections between space
production and everyday life, which is an ‘intersection between systems and
lifeworld, between structure and agency, between exchange value and use
value’ (Madanipour, 1996, p.218). And to understand these, in turn, ‘we need
to know about the political, economic and cultural processes that produce and
use urban space’ (Madanipour, 1996, p.218).
Indeed, in the field of urban studies, broad-based and cross-disciplinary
theoretical approaches have developed in relation to the study of planning
processes. Theoretical approaches to urban design, however, have been more
focused on specific aspects and are more self-referential (Cuthbert, 2007), with
little uptake from the wider development of urban studies, though some
influential works on urban geography from a political economy perspective, for
example, have used case studies examining the urban design of developments,
including waterfronts (see, for example, Harvey, 1989, on Baltimore). In this
book we put forward a conceptual framework which draws on approaches
developed in sociology, geography and economics, proposing an institutionalist
analysis combined with spatial political economy that may help to elucidate
and understand planning, urban design and architectural design processes, as
well as inform practice of these activities.

An institutionalist approach
Institutionalist analysis, or more appropriately ‘new institutionalism’, emerged
as a theoretical and analytical approach within political science, economics and
sociology during the 1980s. This does not constitute a unified body of thought
because of its independent emergence in different disciplines and as a response
to different schools of thought within these, thus resulting in historical, rational
choice and sociological institutionalisms; but these different analytical
approaches do share a purpose to ‘elucidate the role that institutions play in the
determination of social and political outcomes’ (Hall and Taylor, 1996, p.936).
In relation to economics, the institutionalist turn has also been linked to a
renewal of political economy through the development of an institutionalist or
new political economy which sees economics as inseparable from the political
and social system within which it is embedded.
A central concept in this analytical approach is that of institutions. Jenkins
and Smith (2001) propose a dual interpretation of ‘institution’ as a ‘mental
model’ underpinning the structure of society, economics and politics; and as an
‘organizational form’. As Jenkins and Smith (2001, p.21) argue: ‘Mental
models cannot become operational without organizations, just as organizations
need to be underpinned by mental models.’ For example, the development of
cities’ waterfronts during the 19th century as large-scale industrially related
sites for production and trade was accompanied by organizational development
in the form of port authorities, linked to the mental model of the waterfront as
a workplace. The control of such large tracts of land by these public and semi-
public authorities and companies was legitimized by this mental model. With
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    21

economic obsolescence of this form of use of the land, the mental model has
shifted to that of the waterfront as a mixed-use area, with accompanying
organizational changes in the management of this change towards real estate
development, which in turn promote the new mental model of urban quarter
development in place of industrial and infrastructural development.
This conceptual approach is particularly linked to the historical and
sociological strands of institutionalism, as analysis of the mutual interaction
between ‘mental model’ and ‘organization’ helps to understand how
organizations, their policy frameworks and their actions may evolve in time
and explore the extent to which they are geographically specific (hence,
historical institutionalism’s concept of ‘path dependency’), as well as to
understand how this interaction is mediated not only by formal rules,
procedures or norms, but also by symbol systems, cognitive scripts and moral
templates which provide ‘frames of meaning’ guiding human action (Hall and
Taylor, 1996).
Institutionalist approaches have been applied particularly in planning
theory and in the analysis of planning experience – for example, in elucidating
new mental models and organizational structures developed through and for
the wider and deeper engagement of civil society in urban development (Carley
et al, 2001); in studying innovation in governance capacity (Gonzalez and
Healey, 2005); and in evolving more inclusionary approaches to integrated,
place-focused public policy and governance (Healey, 1997, 1999, 2007). The
application of such approaches in planning is becoming consolidated (see, for
example, Verma, 2006); however, this is not the case in urban design, where
theory has not attempted to ‘link the material creation or “designing” of urban
space and form to fundamental societal processes’ (Cuthbert, 2007, p.177).
If urban planning and design are seen as part and parcel of the social
production of space and, therefore, of urban form, or as socio-spatial processes
(Madanipour, 1996), an understanding of the social milieu from which these
emerge and in which they operate is necessary. New institutionalism offers a
way to develop such an understanding which avoids the determinism of
structuralism and the relativism of phenomenology (Carr, 1985).

Three types of relations in urban development

One of the sources of inspiration for the way in which ‘new institutionalism’
has been interpreted in planning (see Healey, 1999) is the ‘middle way’ between
deterministic structuralism and relativism that Giddens (1984) offered through
his theory of structuration. This theory focuses on the relations through which
social practices are constituted and transformed, and is thus of relevance to the
socio-spatial production of urban form. According to Giddens, human action
takes place within the context of a pre-existing social structure, which is
governed by a distinctive set of norms and/or laws; but reproduction of such
sets of norms depends on human action, and therefore these structures are
neither permanent nor inviolable. This theory sees ‘structure’ as ‘rules and
resources recursively implicated in social reproduction’ (Giddens, 1984, p.xxxi),
with institutions in social systems having ‘structural’ properties in the sense that
they stabilize relationships across time and space. Drawing on Giddens’s
22    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

discussion of the nature of such ‘rules and resources’, Healey (2007) summarizes
three relations which can provide a basis for analysis:

Giddens identifies three relations through which specific actions are shaped by
structuring forces, and through which structuring forces are themselves produced.
The first relates to allocative structures (the way material resources – finance,
land, human labour – are allocated; for example, public investment in infrastructure
or land and property investment processes). The second relates to authoritative
structures (the constitution of norms, values, regulatory procedures – for example,
regulations over the use and development of land, or processes of environmental
impact assessment). The third relates to systems of meaning (frames of reference,
ideologies, rationalities, discourses).

Healey, 2007, p.21

Allocative structures
What can an examination of these three types of relations tell us about
waterfront regeneration and development? Let’s start with allocative structures,
focusing on the key resources of land, finance, human labour, materials and
energy, as well as what may be termed ‘institutional resources’.
The general context for waterfront regeneration that is described in the
literature is generally one of land’s use for industrial or transport activity
ending and its value as a resource changing as a result. The value of this land
as a site for both industrial/port activity and now urban development has
largely been linked, as would be expected, to its location – in the first case
because of being at the interface between land and water, facilitating mode
transfer of goods and passengers between shipping and land-based transport;
and in the case of regeneration and urban development because of its often
fairly central location providing an opportunity for city expansion linking up
with an expanse of water now seen as supporting amenity and leisure activities.
This land has normally (since the 19th century) been under the control of a
public or semi-public body, such as a local authority or a port authority, or of
an industrial concern. The process now taking place is generally one of transfer
of control of public-sector land to the private sector, and of increasing
‘privatization’ (sometimes in organizational modus operandi if not in ownership)
of semi-public landowners, while access to the land is widened through the
creation of new public and semi-public spaces. Key factors that are seen in this
process as influencing the qualities of the resulting physical built fabric are how
this land is parcelled up and transferred, and who controls what development
takes place on the land and how it is used. For example, allocation of large
areas of waterfront to large developers, to masterplan and development as a
single concern are seen as conducive to different results compared to allocation
based on small-scale plots going to different developers and designers. In
addition, landownership influences the type of use – for example, ensuring
public access to the water edge, if this is publicly owned, or applying planning
policies which determine the use of the water to influence the use of adjacent
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    23

land, if this is privately owned. The question emerges as to whether the types
of land and landownership on regenerated and redeveloped waterfronts around
the North Sea have features in common. And are these distinct from those
elsewhere?
The state’s capacity to allocate finance for development (or, rather,
redevelopment) of this land is generally diminishing worldwide (at least in
relative terms to private-sector capacity), with the private sector having growing
financial leverage. The allocative structures emerging around the financing of
waterfront regeneration tend to be based on public–private partnerships, with
the public sector often financing decontamination, key infrastructure, public
spaces and flagship developments, while the private sector invests in
developments that will produce a clear financial return, such as residential and
office buildings.
In this process the labour force involved in the activities carried out on the
waterfront pre- and post-regeneration tends to change, with shipyard workers
and stevedores being replaced by construction workers, and these in turn by
office workers and service staff. This has implications for the relationship
between the regenerated areas as a workplace and the location of workers’
residences, and for the sense of belonging that workers may have. Dock
workers traditionally often lived near the ports, concentrated in specific housing
areas, while the new service economy in regenerated waterfronts is staffed by
people who may live anywhere in the metropolitan or city region.
With regards to production of the built fabric, various forces are at work
on the allocation of construction resources. Globalization is fostering increasing
worldwide trade, making materials cheaper to source in emerging economies
and countries on the periphery of the capitalist system, continuing the trend
started through the colonial trade routes and intensifying this (Jenkins et al,
2007). As a result, the built fabric of regenerated waterfronts can incorporate
a range of materials, from tropical timbers from Latin America to granite from
China. An opposing force or structure is that driven by increasing environmental
awareness and regulation, linked to the other two types of relation: authoritative
structures and systems of meaning. This supports the valuing of the existing
built fabric as a resource because of its embodied energy and the alternative it
offers to the extraction of non-renewable materials (in addition to its symbolic
value as heritage, which increasingly has an economic value attached). These
are strongly contradictory forces. How are these affecting waterfront
regeneration around the North Sea, an area which was at the core of the
development of the colonial trade routes and which is bordered by countries
that currently have some of the most stringent building regulations in the world
(a result of the welfare state and later also driven by the European Union’s
normative structure)?
Energy is another resource that influences city development at macro and
micro levels. As described in Chapter 1, technology based on the tapping of
different sources of energy drove changes in forms of transport, which in turn
spurred urban development around waterfronts. Energy sources have also
underpinned urban development in more indirect ways, such as the discovery
of oil in the North Sea, which has supported urban growth and different forms
of waterfront development (including new industrial areas such as oil terminals
24    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

and refineries). The exploitation and distribution of these sources of energy

have been related to increasingly centralized organizational forms linked to
complex distribution networks, as well as to a concomitant growing
commodification of energy. Although this concentrated control of energy production
continues in the development of some renewable forms of energy capture, such as
offshore wind farms, a growing drive for decentralized energy production is
emerging, with new developments increasingly being required to cover part of
their energy needs from onsite sources. This is beginning to change the way in
which urban developments are designed. Waterfront developments are a
particularly interesting case in this respect because of the potential they have to
use water and wind as sources of energy. To what extent is this potential being
realized in waterfront developments around the North Sea? And how have
national policies in the area which pursue high levels of renewable energy
influenced these developments?
What could be termed ‘institutional resources’ are also a significant aspect
of allocative structures. Processes of waterfront development often involve the
creation of new organizations, which contribute to different aspects of the
development process, such as information centres, support organizations,
community organizations, etc. In addition, these processes occasionally
generate the restructuring of existing organizations, such as municipal
departments, in response to different development needs, preparing technical
information, managing onsite work, etc. Allocation of resources for the
operation of such organizations, as well as giving these organizations power to
allocate resources are key elements in the implementation of waterfront
regeneration.
To summarize, the above resources tend to be allocated by the state and the
market in varying proportions and forms, while, generally, civil society has a
very limited contribution, mostly because of the very limited control that it has
over such resources.4 Civil society does, however, have more scope to influence
waterfront regeneration through its participation in authoritative structures
and in the construction of systems of meaning.

Authoritative structures
Healey (2007) suggests that authoritative structures can include the constitution
of norms, values and regulatory procedures. Such structures can take the form
of organizational arrangements, including, for example, different levels of state
organization, from local, national and regional through to transnational.
Waterfront regeneration has taken place during a period in which the role of
the state in many places has shifted from being a provider to being an enabler – a
shift that is reflected at an international level in United Nations declarations
and policies. This shift has taken the form, for example, of partnerships
between state-sector organizations and private-sector companies, which have
become a widespread norm for investment in infrastructure, and are also
characteristic of key examples of waterfront redevelopment, such as London
Docklands. A related phenomenon has been that of the creation of ‘arm’s
length companies’ to which the public sector has delegated powers and
resources in order to ‘free up’ development processes from bureaucratic
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    25

procedures. What models have been developed and implemented around the
North Sea? Do these reflect worldwide trends?
These shifts in authoritative structures have been criticized for putting
regeneration processes outside democratic control as they privatize some of
the rights to allocate. However, the idea of increased democratic control –
through participatory as well as representative democracy – has underpinned
experimentation with ‘citizen participation’, albeit normally within already
existing authoritative structures. In waterfront regeneration these initiatives
raise issues related to ‘who’ participates, ranging from how to mediate between
the interests of existing residents (often former workers in the defunct industrial
or port activities) and those of incoming investors, to how to design participatory
processes when there is no (or very little) resident population on the site, and
thus the beneficiary population is arguably at city level. In this respect
waterfronts around the North Sea offer a wealth of experience. Has this
experience shown new ways of engagement between civil society and the state
and market which have shifted the ways in which authoritative structures
operate?
The above processes must still conform to regulatory procedures linked to
planning which, because of how planning is defined in Europe, tends to be a
state activity. The European Union is the relevant supranational organization
that is increasingly influencing regulatory procedures relevant to developments –
including waterfronts – around the North Sea (e.g. through environmental
legislation). However, at national, regional and local levels there are also
different traditions of regulation, a key example being the difference between
the discretionary approach of the UK planning system and the more prescriptive
planning systems in continental Europe.5 To what extent does the diverse
nature of these regulatory systems have an impact upon the processes and
products of waterfront regeneration around the North Sea?

Systems of meaning
From an institutionalist perspective, such norms, rules and regulations and the
organizations which implement them are based on systems of meaning, which
they, in turn, influence. Healey (2007) lists frames of reference, ideology,
rationalities and discourses as examples of such systems of meaning; Madanipour
(1996) refers more simply to ‘ideas’; and Landry (2006) refers to culture.
Such systems of meaning permeate actions related to city-building at many
levels. City marketing, for example, relies on the generation of new narratives
about cities in which urban planning and design have a strong role to play in
how systems of meaning interplay with the political economy. In dealing with
footloose capital, two options are available: to quickly adapt to market shifts;
or to mastermind market shifts (Harvey, 1989). Both have been used through
urban design by European cities in the last couple of decades, with cities in the
older industrialized areas constantly changing approaches to meet market
needs, as well as creating and managing markets through innovative design,
and cities outside this old industrialized core (especially smaller cities) often
being unable to quickly respond to market shifts and therefore attempting the
longer-term strategy of producing innovations in design conducive to new
26    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

market trends (Gospodini, 2002). Examples of the former include London and
Paris, with the redevelopment of London Docklands being a market-led process
(with all its pitfalls) and the Parisian large public projects being more state
driven. An example of a smaller city on the European periphery is Bilbao,
where the creation of new symbols through innovative design using ‘starchitects’
(Guggenheim Museum and other waterfront developments, Bilbao Airport, the
distinctive metro system) has contributed to the paradigm of iconic architecture
as a beacon for investment (Gospodini, 2002; Sklair, 2006).
In this context, ‘urban design appears to be consciously “used” as a means
of economic development of cities in the new competitive milieu’ (Gospodini,
2002, p.59). In other words, in this phase of globalization, the quality of urban
space is seen as a factor in attracting investment, and therefore affecting city
competitiveness. Gospodini (2002) suggests that this reverses the historical
relationship between the urban economy and urban design, with good-quality
urban environments in the past having been made possible by economic growth,
whereas they are now increasingly seen as enablers of economic growth – though
this is arguable, as there has always been a two-way relationship. This is one
way in which culture (if we see the urban design of a place as part of this)
provides cities with a narrative about themselves (Landry, 2006).
This operates at the local level as well, with part of the task often faced by
waterfront regeneration being that of transforming the way in which it is
perceived by residents in the rest of the city it belongs to. This underpins a
range of activities from marketing of the waterfront within the city (often by
developers – i.e. the market), through citizen participation activities linked to
planning projects (usually led by the local authority – i.e. the state), to
awareness-raising activities such as design competitions, festivals and the
location of information units within the area (often run by civil society
organizations, including academia, professional bodies and neighbourhood
associations). These can be the platform for new discourses around the use of
the waterfront centred on notions such as re-linking city and water, making the
waterfront accessible, and spreading the benefits to the wider surrounding
communities, though the reality does not always match the rhetoric.
Such new physical and social discourses underpin both outward city
marketing and inward awareness-raising, and they may originate from different
sources, a typical one being the interface between planners and local politicians.
In this context discourse can be seen as ‘the policy language and metaphors
mobilised in focusing, justifying and legitimating a policy programme or
project’ (Healey, 2007, p.22). But discourse does not take the form of words
only. The actual designs of places and buildings can be interpreted as discourse
through what they ‘say’ about the intentions of agencies promoting them. In
the context of waterfront regeneration, what specific discourses have emerged
around the North Sea and what do they tell us about the interplay between the
local and global in this region?

A political economy perspective

Much of the recent institutionalist literature that has developed around
planning has focused on the latter two types of relation – that is, authoritative
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    27

structures and systems of meaning (and less on allocative structures). Some

would argue that in the process a key means to understand the production of
the built environment has been somewhat neglected: spatial political economy.
This is a perspective with considerable explanatory power, particularly if we
consider that ‘rather than following function, form has increasingly been
following finance’ (Ellin, 1996, p.190). Ellin refers to the failure of postmodern
urbanism to adequately consider the contemporary political economy, giving
the example of False Creek, where a ‘self-conscious attempt to build a
postmodern landscape’ failed because of the lack of consideration of political-
economic constraints (Ellin, 1996, pp.156–157).
Political economy analysis has been applied to the study of waterfronts in
geography (see, for example, Malone, 1996), and more application of this
analysis has been advocated in both planning (McLoughlin, 1994) and urban
design (Cuthbert, 2007). A fundamental critique of the political economy
approach is the overriding importance it attaches to structure, which is seen to
determine and dominate agency. However, new political economy approaches
have developed, such as that known as the ‘new international political economy,
which look not only at how politics and economics influence each other, but
also at how these are mediated by social (and cultural) institutions, and how
the relations between all of these evolve historically, thus reflecting the
preoccupation with the relations between structure and agency which has
inspired new institutionalism, and going beyond structuralism to give scope to
agency. This new political economy approach has been applied, for example, to
the study of urbanization in the rapidly urbanizing world (Jenkins et al,
2007).
An institutionalist approach can therefore incorporate a political economy
analysis within it and thus permit linkages between allocative structures,
authoritative structures and systems of meaning. Although all three are
linked to the political economy, the first two have particular instrumental
relevance; however, issues of meaning also underpin allocative systems at a
deeper level.

In summary
The above framework is proposed as a way of understanding the forces and
relations that impinge upon the design of the built environment. If we take
architectural design as an example, this social product reflects the relations we
have described. The resources used in terms of land, materials, finance, labour
and energy all affect the design, and the political economy surrounding the
allocative structure of these can be ‘read’ in the building. The design conforms
to a host of written (building codes, etc.) and unwritten (social norms) rules
which are enforced by specific organizations and by social expectations –
authoritative structures. In addition, its engagement with systems of meaning
and its use in the creation of symbolic capital is probably the aspect that has,
in fact, most exercised architectural critics since the 1980s, when Postmodernism
increased architecture’s self-consciousness about its symbolic power. This is
very evident with waterfront design, whether in terms of buildings or urban
form-making and the images used for these by designers.
28    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Looking at the professional disciplines involved in the production of the

built environment more widely, Ellin (1996, p.264) calls for a new sensibility
which celebrates and incorporates difference, stating that ‘for this to transpire
in urban design, architects and planners must truly heed their own call for
contextualism through a more sophisticated understanding of their place in
history, of cultural differences, and of the larger political economy in which
they currently work’. The framework proposed is offered to both analysts and
practitioners as a means to further such understanding. The framework
provides a way of interrogating urban development processes. It helps to
identify and explore relevant questions in, for example, waterfront regeneration.
Some of these are explored in the case studies which are analysed in this
book.

The case studies

The framework presented here, including allocative and authoritative structures,
as well as systems of meaning, is not applied in a mechanistic and systematic
fashion in the case study chapters which are presented in Part II of the book.
Rather, each of these chapters provides a specific focus on some of the issues
outlined above, based either on a geographic approach ranging from a single
city to comparisons across several, or on a thematic approach ranging from
process to product. These chapters have been written mostly by local academics
who accompanied the learning experience of the Waterfront Communities
Project within each city, thus achieving in-depth insight into the action-research
process as it happened, while also maintaining the necessary independence to
provide additional in-depth critical reflection. These empirical experiences and
specific analyses provide the basis for some theoretical reflection based on the
application of the above analytical framework in the final chapter of the book,
which takes an overview across all the case studies, applying the framework in
a more systematic and holistic way. This allows conclusions to be drawn on the
challenges faced by these North Sea cities and their relevance for other
waterfront cities around the world, and on the institutional structures that
respond to these, and, indeed, for other forms of complex ‘city-building’.
Although the broader framework of concepts discussed above is embedded
in the approach taken in the case study chapters, each of these draw particularly
on parts of the framework which are more closely related to the issues that are
examined. Thus, Chapter 3 has a particular focus on the influence of allocative
structures, looking at different types of resources. In Chapter 3, Maria Soledad
Garcia Ferrari and Harry Smith examine the role of physical and institutional
resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration, with a specific focus on
landownership, land-use control and leadership. This chapter provides a
comparative analysis of how these issues have affected the development of the
Edinburgh, Gateshead and Hull waterfronts, and contrasts these with the
experience in the other participant cities in the Waterfront Communities
Project. While highlighting the conflicts that can arise when landownership is
fragmented or not under the direct control of a lead agency in regeneration, the
chapter discusses the potential and limitations of various forms of shared
decision-making over development that takes account of landownership
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    29

structures and access to resources, as well as forms of focused intervention that

can maximize impact, such as flagship developments.
Chapter 4, by Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere, explores links between
allocative and authoritative structures. It addresses the challenge faced by cities
to strengthen their position among other cities by developing and managing
their resources, with a focus on ‘social and creative capital’. It argues that this
is not an isolated and independent part of sustainable urban renewal, but has
to be viewed in conjunction with spatial and physical resources, such as the
housing stock and urban space. It describes the role, position and instruments
of the figure of the ‘social supervisor’, which has been proposed and piloted in
The Netherlands to facilitate the integration of the social context of urban
regeneration within the design process. The practical issues encountered by the
experience of putting in place social supervisors in Schiedam and Zaanstad are
discussed. The chapter draws conclusions on constraints and challenges from
these experiences, and proposes an approach to culture-led regeneration that
gives local culture and identity a major role in city-building.
Chapters 5 and 6 explore the issues around the changes in authoritative
structures related to different participatory processes that were established
during the Waterfront Communities Project, as well as beyond this project.
In Chapter 5, Joakim Forsemalm and Knut Strömberg discuss knowledge
and decision-making in planning processes, arguing that the traditional so-
called rational approach to public planning, with its formal hierarchical and
sectoral organizations and procedures, demonstrates weaknesses when it has to
deal with non-standard issues that arise in waterfront city-building. There are
no single decision-making bodies that have sole knowledge and competence to
handle and take decisions on such complex issues. The chapter examines three
different planning processes in the city of Gothenburg in which the clash
between the rational approach and a variety of knowledge and agencies is
clearly apparent. These dialogue processes developed at different stages of the
planning process and with different mixes of participants, and were relatively
easy to organize; but problems arose when the outcomes were to be included
in the standard operational procedures for planning and decision-making in the
municipality. The lessons from this contextually based in-depth case study
provide points for reflection on similar processes elsewhere and on the social
dimension of sustainable urban development.
In Chapter 6, Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari explore the
challenges faced by wider stakeholder participation in waterfront regeneration,
focusing on how the city of Hamburg has addressed three types of scenario.
Here the highly successful HafenCity Hamburg project close to the city centre
encountered a fairly common scenario in waterfront regeneration – that of a
very limited amount of existing residents. The chapter looks at how the public
development company that is regenerating this area tried to secure benefits for
the ‘public good’ through strong controls on the design and management of
developments. It then examines the ‘Leap across the Elbe’ framework plan,
which covers three very different harbour development areas spanning north–
south across the Elbe island, encompassing a variety of inhabited areas. The
approach here was an international design workshop focused on drafting urban
design scenarios for the International Building Exhibition IBA 2013 and
30    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

involving expert and citizen groups, followed by a resulting public dialogue,

and the creation of a citizens’ and experts’ forum and a board of trustees
alongside the new development corporation. Finally, Chapter 6 takes a brief
look at experiments being undertaken in Hamburg to deal with the long-term
management and maintenance of regenerated areas, mainly through an
adaptation of the Business Improvement District model, which may hold
lessons for the sustainable management of waterfront areas.
Chapter 7 looks at how design-based processes have mediated between
authoritative structures and the exploration of new systems of meaning. The
starting point of Hans Kiib’s chapter is Harbourscape Aalborg 2005, a
workshop where three different design-based development methods were tested
with the purpose of developing new concepts for the relationship between the
city and its harbour, in addition to generating easily grasped images of a
coherent harbour transformation. This experience is described and compared
to earlier similar experiences in other North Sea waterfront cities: Hamburg’s
Bauforum (analysed in more detail in Chapter 6) and the Oslo Charrette.
Analysis of these cases focusing on methodology, concept development and
communication during the process provides the basis for the proposal of some
principles in action-research. Those related to methodology, concepts and
process will be of particular interest to researchers, and those on production of
concepts, mutual understanding and quality of design will be useful for a
variety of actors in the development process.
Systems of meaning are the focus for Chapters 8, 9 and 10, with Chapter 8
looking at process and Chapter 9 examining how this has translated into
product – or place. Chapter 10 then examines the links between process and
product.
In Chapter 8, Solvejg Beyer Reigstad examines the role of visions in creating
a sustainable living waterfront, using the process undertaken to develop the
Odense Waterfront as a case study. Odense is an interesting example of how the
common waterfront regeneration challenge of large-scale existing physical
structures and often a negative public image can be met in a way which ensures
that people will be attracted to the new urban areas and, thus, contribute to their
long-term social and economic sustainability. The chapter evaluates the method
followed in Odense, which puts public life and development of visions upfront
in the planning process. Odense invited public life into the area through holding
events, creating public space and establishing a dialogue with stakeholders.
These methods are analysed in a wider and more general perspective, including
how planners can ensure that they plan a living city, and establishing comparisons
with the waterfront project in Oslo, presented in Chapter 7.
Also focusing on the resulting quality of public space, in Chapter 9 Maria
Soledad Garcia Ferrari, Paul Jenkins and Harry Smith try to capture what
makes a great waterfront, and from this develop a longer-term basis for creating
successful waterfront places. The key focus for the analysis is spatial, social and
visual, with a view to understanding how some places are perceived as becoming
successful in social and cultural terms, and how this relates to the visual and
spatial environment. It takes three North Sea waterfronts (Gateshead, Malmö
and Oslo) and explores the links between the regeneration process and the
resulting quality of the public realm in each case. The chapter draws conclusions
 negotiating city-building in waterfront communities around the north sea    31

on the requirements for sustainable place-making at the macro- and micro-

scale, including the importance of time in the creation of place, as well as
providing some reflection on the physical characteristics of successful places.
The aim of Chapter 10, by Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari and Derek Fraser,
is to analyse design strategies and evaluate solutions proposed in the
development of waterfronts, focusing on the Sluseholmen area located in
Copenhagen’s southern harbour. The chapter builds on the conceptual
framework proposed in this book, understanding that urban change is the
result of different forms of interaction between ‘institutions’ (as organizations
and mental models) and ‘actions’ (such as for the allocation of resources, the
constitution of norms and the definition of ideological frameworks). Its
objective is thus to explore the connections between the design strategies
adopted and the processes that the developments experienced, drawing on a
series of semi-structured interviews which were carried out with key stakeholders
in the process of development – planners, designers and developers.
In Chapter 11, Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari then provide
an analysis of the findings from the above case studies and draw conclusions
based on the analytical framework presented here, within the context of the
challenges faced by waterfront cities around the North Sea in achieving
sustainable city-building. Although at the regional level, the various cities
studied in this book display great diversity in size in the relative strength and
powers of stakeholders and in their legal and institutional frameworks, at the
global level this is a fairly homogeneous region, with similar institutional
structures and economic and social goals, which are a driver towards similarities
in waterfront regeneration. Conclusions are drawn on the balance between
these differences and similarities in terms of the physical environments that are
being created on waterfronts around the North Sea. The overarching theme
cutting across the case studies presented here is the forms of involvement of the
various stakeholders in the regeneration process and the resulting quality (and
qualities) of the public realm on the waterfront. Are these creating places that
attract national and international investment towards the region, while at the
same time providing attractive and sustainable new public spaces and
opportunities for activities for local populations? Is this approach fundamentally
relevant to any major ‘city-building’ project worldwide, and if so, why and how
can it be translated into other contexts without a banal ‘best practice’ approach?
Emerging questions around new challenges such as climate change and rapidly
changing geo-politics are also explored. These conclusions are used to reflect
on how the analytical framework developed in this book can help to understand
and aid sustainable waterfront regeneration processes in other cities around the
world.

Notes
1� Structure and agency are key concepts used in the social sciences. ‘Structure’ refers to the
external factors which influence – or determine, according to some approaches – individual
behaviour. These can range from cultural norms to organizational forms. ‘Agency’ refers to the
capacity of individuals to act within a society. There has been a longstanding debate over the
balance between the two, with, for example, structuralism considering structure to be
32    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

predominant in explaining actions, and phenomenology focusing on the power of individual

agents to ‘construct’ the world. More recent approaches have explored the mutual
interrelationship between the two, including Giddens (1984).
2� The International Centre Cities on Water has published an extensive bibliography of
publications on waterfronts; see Città d’Acqua (2007).
3� The Waterfront Communities Project’s database is available at www.seeit.co.uk/waterfrontcp/
goodprac.cfm. Other useful databases include AIVP’s online search facility (www.aivp.org/
infos.html).
4� Labour is one resource which, during the last century, has structured itself through trade
unions; but this type of civil society organization has seen its power retrench in recent
decades, being faced with changes in regulatory systems (see authoritative structures) which
have favoured markets over organized labour.
5� See Chapter 3 for a brief discussion of the different types of planning systems in Europe.
 Part 2

Case Studies of Waterfront

City-Building Processes Around
the North Sea
3
Physical and Institutional
Resources in Sustainable
Waterfront Regeneration
Landownership, Land-Use Control and Leadership

Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari and Harry Smith

Introduction
Chapter 2 introduced the concept of allocative structures as the relations which
exist around the allocation of resources. An essential resource in urban
development is land, which has both use value (i.e. as a material support for
economic exploitation and development, as well as for inhabitation) and
exchange value (i.e. as a commodity that can be traded for financial gain). The
ways in which these values are realized are influenced by the allocative
structures governing access to, and use and enjoyment of, the benefits attached
to land. Such structures are formalized through diverse forms of land tenure,
ranging from freehold ownership to state and community ownership1 of land
and different forms of rental, which tend to be conceptualized as ‘bundles of
rights’. Land is also related to authoritative structures, as the way in which it
is used and developed is usually regulated by some form of planning system,
which is state based in modern societies, and often based on customary socio-
cultural practices in traditional societies.
The interaction between the allocative and authoritative structures related
to land has an important impact upon city-building and urban form. A well-
known historical example of this, focusing on the balance between private
landownership and government power, is the comparison between the
implementation of Nash’s plans for Regent’s Street in central London and that
of Haussmann’s grand travaux in Paris. Nash’s proposals for grand street and
avenue layouts had to be adapted in order to accommodate the interests of
private landowners, as the power of the state was relatively weak in this regard.
Haussmann, backed by a strong state-based authoritative structure, used
expropriation in order to drive straight and wide boulevards through the
existing built fabric of Paris – though the real-estate sector also benefited
through this operation (Sica, 1980).
36    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

The built fabric of Edinburgh’s city centre also provides a good illustration
of the physical manifestation of land tenure in the built environment, displaying
a variety of street layouts linked to property boundary patterns (see Figure 3.1).
The ‘fishbone’ street pattern in the Old Town has its origins in the long narrow
burgage plots set at right angles to the High Street on which only the frontages
were developed initially, with densification later leading to development of the
backlands and access through the narrow alleys (Stuart-Murray, 2005). The
First New Town was designed and developed during the 18th century on an
oblong area of land purchased by the Corporation of Edinburgh, which allowed
a grand grid layout with large squares at each end. Subsequent New Town
extensions during the late 18th and 19th centuries were developed by private
landowners, with the boundaries of their landholdings being reflected in the
urban layout, and street plans becoming more inward-looking around crescents
and circuses (Youngson, 1966).
As seen in Chapter 2, waterfront areas have their own distinctive land
tenure and control features. They are often areas which have been under
control of public or semi-public bodies since the 19th century, and which
during the late 20th century have been taken out of public control through the
‘privatization’ of the port authorities and other large landowners. Now,
through their regeneration, property ownership (though not necessarily that of
land) is being broken down into smaller units for sale, normally after the land
has been redeveloped as new urban fabric. In addition, the public is gaining
access to newly created public space. Some of this is happening on land that did

Figure 3.1 Plan of the City of Edinburgh in 1831, including planned improvements, by John
Wood and Thomas Brown
Source: National Library of Scotland
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    37

not exist as such before it was originally developed as docks or for industrial
use, as the waterfront is an area where land has often been created through
reclamation (Desfor, 2008) – a process that is also part of current waterfront
regeneration in some cases.
National and local specific characteristics of allocative structures around
land therefore have a substantial bearing on how city-building activity linked
to waterfront regeneration takes place, and on the physical results of this
activity. Key issues that need to be understood include whether the regeneration
is taking place on existing or new (reclaimed) land; who owns the land; who
controls what happens on it; and how this control is exerted.
This chapter explores these issues in the case of waterfront cities around the
North Sea. It first examines the approaches in the region to landownership and
land-use control, including the role of leadership in such control. It then focuses
on the specific characteristics of the approach in one national context – that of
the UK. It examines in depth the cases of the three Waterfront Communities
Project partner cities located in the UK: Edinburgh, Gateshead and Hull.
Finally, it presents some conclusions on the consequences of different
landownership and control regimes around the North Sea, and the importance
of landownership and control in waterfront regeneration worldwide.

Allocative structures around land

Landownership can generally be divided into three types: private (held by
individuals and companies or other legal entities); state land, which is under the
ownership of a variety of state agencies, from national to local; and community,
or ‘third-sector’, land (Home, 2009). All these forms of landownership are
underpinned by the legislative, regulatory, registrational and administrative
role of the state. Urban waterfronts undergoing regeneration tend to fall within
the categories of state and private land. The rise and decline in state
landownership that happened in Northern Europe and other parts of the world
during the 20th century is reflected in similar trends in relation to port and
waterfront areas, as seen above.
The relationship of these landowners to their land varies across different
societies, depending upon their legal systems. Within Europe, the following
‘legal families’ are identifiable: those based on the Napoleonic Code (France,
Belgium, Italy, Luxembourg, Portugal and Spain); the German system (Austria,
Germany and Switzerland); common law countries (the constituent countries of
the UK, as well as Ireland); the Nordic countries; and the Eastern European
countries (formerly Socialist). Within these overall ‘legal families’ in Europe,
there are further differences between countries (and within legal families) when
it comes to land law (Schmid and Hertel, 2005). The continental land laws have
their origins in a mixture of tribal/feudal law and Roman law, the latter being
the basis for the codifications that took place during the 19th and 20th
centuries, whereas the land law systems in the UK did not go through such
codifications (though in Scotland there was a stronger influence of Roman law,
and here the feudal system was only finally abolished in 2003).
Although not directly responsible for landownership, planning systems seek
to define appropriate land use according to development objectives, and
38    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

therefore affect land values and can have an impact upon landownership. Land-
use planning can be defined as a specific form of government activity aiming to
secure public interests in the development of land and property resources
(Lloyd, 1994). Therefore, the approaches to land-use planning are closely
linked to the aims of different political models, governance structures and
institutional organizations in each country.
The ‘legal families’ described above also provide the institutional context for
land-use planning, including the location of planning powers in government
structures and the ways in which such powers are exercised (Newman and
Thornley, 1996; Hague and Jenkins, 2005). Four categories of spatial planning
have been identified in Western Europe (European Commission, 1997), of which
two are particularly represented in the countries surrounding the North Sea:

• the comprehensive integrated approach, which is used in Germany, The

Netherlands and Scandinavian countries – this is based on formal
hierarchies of plans from national to local level, with extensive planning
institutions and public-sector investment;
• the land-use management approach, which is used in the UK – this is locally
managed following national guidelines, and is not closely linked to other
forms of planning or government activity.2

In the case of The Netherlands, there is a long-established tradition of local

governments acting as land agencies, preparing and supplying land for
development, as well as a national spatial planning agency and national spatial
plans (European Commission, 1999). In Scandinavia, the strong welfare
tradition has been accompanied by a continuum of administration and planning
instruments from national, through regional, to local level – with the latter
having considerable independence – as well as integration of land-use planning
with other areas of planning, such as economic (Newman and Thornley, 1996;
Jensen and Richardson, 2004). However, the welfare model in Scandinavia has
been affected by the recent influence of neoliberal policies, and decentralization
has reduced the comparative power of the regional level (Baggesen Klitgaard,
2002; Bohme, 2002). In Germany, land-use planning and control falls within
the responsibility of each municipality, and legally binding plans are prepared
and established at this level. In the UK, though land use is managed locally,
central government appears to have a stronger influence (e.g. through setting
regional housing targets at the start of the plan-making process rather than as
the result of considering economic, environmental and social factors)
(Keenleyside et al, 2009). In addition, the German system shows a more
complex distribution of responsibilities between federal and regional (Landër)
levels, whereas in the UK the regional level for planning has had a varied
history and overall has been generally weaker, as there has been no firmly
established level of regional authority (Newman and Thornley, 2006).
The interaction between landownership, land-use control and leadership
can be most clearly seen in the actual implementation of spatial planning. The
European Commission (1997) again provides a clear indication of the forms of
implementation of urban development that can be found around the North Sea,
distinguishing three broad types:
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    39

1� a predominantly public-sector approach, such as the land assembly and

servicing undertaken by local government following an approved plan that
tends to be the norm in Denmark, The Netherlands and Sweden;
2� a mixed approach where the public sector may enable and promote
development, coordinate land assembly, or engage in joint ventures and
partnerships, as is the case in France and Belgium;
3� a predominantly private-sector led approach, such as the national schemes
for specific areas requiring leverage of funding from the private sector that
occur in the UK, particularly in urban regeneration.

In a global context, and from a governance perspective, in the North Sea region
there are therefore two major actors – the state and the private sector – who
tend to take the leadership in initiatives involving land use and management,
often through partnerships between these. A much weaker role is played by
civil society, unless facilitated by the state, or often as a response to both state
and private-sector initiatives (see Carley et al, 2001). Generally, local authorities
tend to be a major state player in regeneration initiatives in this region, with
considerable powers and comparatively high levels of capacity to implement.
Often these authorities have recourse to higher level sources of funding, which
are essential for regeneration initiatives. In the case of waterfronts, it is very
common to find other important state actors, such as port authorities and
major infrastructure-related bodies (ministries related to public works, railway
companies, etc.), due to the nature of activities and the development paths of
such areas. National intervention is mostly related to creating the necessary
regulatory frameworks, as well as to transferring landownership to new
organizational structures and providing specific resources. The way in which
these bodies interact with local government and the private sector has been
affected by the privatization and semi-privatization of many of them as a result
of the neoliberal trends that have prevailed since the 1980s.
These general characteristics do, however, encompass a wide diversity of
regional and local-level conditions which give rise to a wide range of responses.
Thus, in structure and agency terms, although at a world macro level, the
North Sea region shares some important structural conditions, local paths of
development have evolved (and continue to evolve) different sets of structural
conditions offering varying scope for agency (Newman and Thornley, 2006).
Questions that arise include: what influence do landownership patterns have on
the scope for city-building on waterfronts? What scope do national planning
regimes (policy and legislation) give for engaging with such landownership
patterns in waterfront regeneration initiatives? How does leadership in
waterfront regeneration emerge in these contexts?

Examples of allocative structures around land in the UK

As argued above, national contexts can provide part of the explanation of how
allocative structures work (e.g. around land); but local specifics also have a part
to play. In order to explore the scope for local variation in how an issue such
as land may affect local city-building activities through waterfront regeneration,
it is useful to compare the experiences of the three waterfront cities in the UK
40    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

which took part in the Waterfront Communities Project. These share a common
national cultural and legal context insofar as they are all within the UK, albeit
there are differences in landownership legislation and land-use control
legislation and policy between England (Gateshead and Hull) and Scotland
(Edinburgh).
In both England and Scotland, land tenure in its current form has its origins
in feudal systems (hence the use of the word ‘tenure’ in the English language),
whereby property owners ‘held’ land within a hierarchical structure under the
Crown rather than owning the land outright. This meant that ‘feudal superiors’
could enforce conditions on how the land could be used or developed. This
system was only abolished in Scotland in 2003, but was abolished in England
centuries earlier. Although the trend has been towards the spread of freehold
land tenure (a form of tenure that suits the recent neoliberal push for enabling
land and housing markets among others), the legacy of centuries of feudal
landownership systems in England and Scotland is strong. Its major manifestation
is the extreme concentration of landownership in a few hands. Another effect
of the system was the ability of feudal superiors to impose conditions upon the
development and use of land until very recently, this being of significance until
land development rights were nationalized throughout the UK by means of the
landmark Town and Country Planning Act 1947. The effects of this structure,
however, can be seen in how Edinburgh, Gateshead and Hull have approached
the regeneration of land on their waterfronts.

Divide and conquer: Landownership and master

planning on the Edinburgh waterfront
Edinburgh, the capital city of Scotland, with a population of just under 0.5
million (approximately 700,000 within its urban region), is an example of a
successful service-based and knowledge economy. In 2009 it was the second
largest tourist attractor in the UK after London, home to the headquarters of
major financial and banking companies, the fifth financial centre in Europe,
and had four universities. Its economic success in the 1990s and 2000s led to
population growth and increased demand for housing. Encircled by a tight
green belt which is firmly embedded in the population’s psyche, as well as in
planning policy, the planning authorities sought to meet the rising housing
demand through two approaches.
One approach was to ‘export’ new housing to neighbouring local authorities,
where land was available. Although this gave access to cheaper land, it was
criticized for turning localities on the periphery of Edinburgh into dormitory
towns and shunting responsibility for service provision to neighbouring local
authorities, while Edinburgh benefited from the inward investment from
business. ‘Leap-frogging’ the green belt was also criticized on sustainability
grounds for increasing commuting and using up greenfield land.
The other approach adopted by the Edinburgh planning authorities was to
densify its existing built-up area, mainly through brownfield land redevelopment
and regeneration. Within this approach, the largest areas for regeneration are
around Edinburgh’s two harbours:
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    41

• Leith Docks is Edinburgh’s main harbour, with approximately 170ha

available for redevelopment on docklands which protrude into the Firth of
Forth. It is located in the old port town of Leith, which historically had
developed separately from Edinburgh. Leith’s trading activity goes back to
the medieval Hanseatic, Baltic and North Sea trading routes. Dock activities
started to move elsewhere in the estuary during the 1990s, freeing up the
land for redevelopment. The centre of Leith already underwent regeneration
during the 1980s and 1990s, with the docks becoming the ‘new frontier’
for regeneration in the 2000s.
• Granton Harbour was originally built during the 1830s as a deep water
harbour at a time when Leith docks were still relatively undeveloped. Built
for coal export, it later became home to a fishing fleet, as well as the
location of the world’s first ferry-train. Both commercial trading and
fishing ended in the 1970s, and some of the area within the confines of
the piers started to be filled in. The approximately 176ha of land identified
for regeneration in the harbour’s hinterland encompass a wide range of
former uses – from former gas works to the UK’s first car factory – and
abut some of the most socially and economically deprived housing estates
in the city.

The regeneration of these two areas is expected to provide 30,000 new homes
over a 30-year period, together with a range of neighbourhood and city-level
facilities, though notably without any major iconic or flagship buildings that
might help to create an image for the waterfront at a national or international
level. Although at some levels marketed as a single initiative (the Edinburgh
Waterfront), the regeneration of these two areas has undergone very different
processes, largely due to the different patterns of landownership and, linked to
this, the ways in which leadership of the process has unfolded.
The regeneration of Granton was led by City of Edinburgh Council, which
in 1999 commissioned a masterplan for the entire area. The masterplan
envisaged an extension to the city based on perimeter blocks, with medium-rise
high-density development enclosing well-defined public space and
accommodating mixed use as well as housing. Ownership of the land covered
by the masterplan, however, was divided among three major landowners, as
well as a number of smaller landowners (see Figure 3.2). The major landowners –
City of Edinburgh Council (via an arm’s length company called Edinburgh
Waterfront Ltd),3 a national gas company and the port authority – subsequently
commissioned more detailed masterplans for their respective landholdings,
with little coordination among these. The disjunction of adjacent masterplans
was compounded by the replacement of existing masterplans with new ones
within each landholding, in some cases when the previous masterplan had
already been partially implemented. The result was a fragmented emergence of
new built environments and places, with connections between the cores of the
three main landholdings being (provisionally at least) limited to new roads
rather than continuous built fabric. In addition, competition among the
developers of the different landholdings led to overprovision of two-bedroom
apartments for a certain segment of the market, which quickly became
saturated.
42    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

Figure 3.2 Granton masterplan and approximate major landownership areas, Edinburgh
Source: Redrawn by authors, based on City of Edinburgh Council masterplans and landownership information

Different dynamics were at work in Leith Docks. Regeneration of the built-up

area of Leith had started during the 1980s and continued during the 1990s as
a result of local authority initiatives, and support from the national government
body then known as the Scottish Executive was manifested in the construction
of its new headquarters by the port. Regeneration of the port facilities started
later, in the first decade of the new century. Here a single powerful landowner –
the port authority – initiated the regeneration of the docks with a flagship
shopping centre and other developments, an approach that the local authority
regarded as disjointed and piecemeal. The local planning authorities then put
pressure on the port authority to produce a strategy for the development of the
whole area. The Leith Docks Development Framework was prepared by
consultants who were commissioned by the port authority and was approved
in 2005 by the local authority. This framework divided the land into six zones
for phased development. These were further subdivided into sites, which would
be subject to specific planning permission, each containing a number of
development parcels. These zones were identified as areas for subsequent, more
specific masterplans, which would conform to a series of principles outlined in
the development framework. Principles included the use of perimeter blocks
giving shape to well-defined public space, the creation of view corridors linking
the city with the water, and good connections to public transport, among others
(see Figure 3.3). The approach taken by this single landowner in its development
planning was hierarchical and structured, setting parameters which were
intended to foster consistent development of the area over an extended period
of time.
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    43

0 100 500 Pocket Park

Civic/Cultural Space (Urban)

Water Park

Green Space

Sea Edge Park/Sand

Existing Public Spaces

Links Towards Firth of Forth

Figure 3.3 Proposed hierarchy of public space in the Leith Docks Development Framework,
Edinburgh, 2005
Source: LDDF, 2005, Figure 1.10

In 2011, the City of Edinburgh Council published for consultation a draft

Waterfront and Leith Area Development Framework, covering both the
waterfront areas described above and attempting to chart a way for their
development as places that are integrated with the existing urban areas. This
was in response, to a large extent, to what the Foreword to the document
described as ‘the inability of all those with an interest in the waterfront to look
in a meaningful way beyond the “red line” boundaries that define land
ownership or the extent of planning applications’ (City of Edinburgh Council,
2011). This initiative to provide an overarching vision for the Edinburgh
waterfront deliberately avoided establishing a clearly defined boundary and
focused on integration and connectivity. Whether this approach will be
successful in overcoming the limitations imposed by fragmented landownership
and lack of direct control over the land by the planning authority remains to
be seen.
The dramatically negative impact of the 2008 recession upon the development
of the Edinburgh waterfront brought about the search for new ways to
reinvigorate the process. Interestingly, these included the proposal by the local
authority to use tax increment financing (TIF), where finance for the
implementation of key infrastructure is obtained on the basis of expected
increases in tax revenue once the development is completed. This shows, to a
limited extent, some approximation to the public-sector led approach to
development taken by other countries around the North Sea (see previous
section), though still retaining a requirement to lever in private-sector
funding.
44    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

Summing up, the planning and development of both these waterfront areas
illustrates the fact that, although private development rights were nationalized
in the UK with the planning legislation that was enacted in 1947, actual control
of the land through ownership has a huge impact upon how development
unfolds. In both cases, the local authority tried to take the lead in the
development of the waterfront: in the case of Granton through a proactive
master planning role that was, to some extent, undermined by subsequent
private landowner actions; and in the case of Leith through reactive demands
for a more comprehensive approach and strategy. Although the latter has led to
a (not uncontested) overall strategy, it remains to be seen how the balance of
decision-making between planning authority and large landowner plays out in
its implementation, as well as to what extent alternative views of how to
develop this waterfront may impinge upon the results. The importance of the
issue of landownership is further illustrated in the following case.

The land of dreams: Gateshead Quays

Respectively located on the north and south banks of the River Tyne, in north-
east England, Newcastle and Gateshead form a large urban area with a
population of 500,000 – of which 196,000 reside in Gateshead. Industrial
decline in the conurbation during the second half of the 20th century has led to
a legacy of underused, unused and vacant industrial land, particularly in
Gateshead’s central core, close to the dense urban centre of Newcastle.
Following in the steps of regeneration initiatives in Newcastle, including along
the north bank of the Tyne, Gateshead set about ‘reinventing itself’, creating
cultural attractions and venues in particular locations as key drivers to
spearhead the wider regeneration of these areas, including along its fluvial
waterfront (see also Chapter 9).
Much of this culture-based regeneration has been located in the area now
known as Gateshead Quays, on the south bank of the Tyne. This shoreline was
the location of the original settlement going back to Roman times. Medieval
development around narrow alleys gave way to tenement and factory
development during the 18th century and to overcrowding and poor living
conditions in the 19th century. Much of the densely packed historic fabric, built
up to and even overhanging the riverbank, was destroyed in a great fire in
1854. This provided an opportunity to build a new quay, but it lacked facilities
to compete with Newcastle’s on the opposite bank and did not prosper in the
long run, falling into disrepair during the 1970s and 1980s as industrial decline
set in (Histon, 2006). In addition, new river crossings built during the 19th and
20th centuries linked to major railway and road infrastructures tended to be
made at the higher levels of the deep ravine that the River Tyne forms at this
point, thus making Gateshead Quays less accessible in relative terms.
During the mid 1990s, Gateshead Council started the process of regenerating
East Gateshead, covering an area of 162ha of brownfield land, low-quality residential
properties, industrial premises and the athletics stadium. This included the Gateshead
Quays area, identified as a location for arts-led urban regeneration.
Initial regeneration of the area was based on the creation of three iconic
landmarks and visitor attractors, plus one residential development (see Figure 3.4).
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    45

The flagship buildings were all the result of council-led seizure of funding
opportunities and forging of partnerships, using land and properties that were
available to the council. With national lottery funding for the arts, a 1950s
disused grain silo was converted into BALTIC, the largest contemporary art
gallery in the UK outside London, and one of the largest temporary art spaces
in Europe. Funding from the Millennium Commission4 was used to provide a
pedestrian link between Gateshead Quays and the already successfully
regenerated north bank of the River Tyne in Newcastle: the Gateshead
Millennium Bridge – the world’s first tilting bridge. Both these structures
opened to the public in 2002. Finally, national lottery arts funding again
enabled the construction of the state-of-the-art concert hall, The Sage
Gateshead, which in 2004 provided a home to the North Music Trust in what
was being transformed from an area of dereliction into an arts quarter.
Council-led development of these facilities encouraged investment from
house-builders, with a well-known private-sector house-builder providing
seven new apartment blocks on the land adjoining BALTIC by 2004, and a
further mixed-use development of the area between BALTIC and The Sage
Gateshead being planned in a second phase.
To a certain extent, due to the initial conditions on the site, the existing
private landowners and businesses did not have a shared vision for the area’s

Figure 3.4 Aerial view of Gateshead Quays, showing BALTIC and the Millennium Bridge (left)
and the Sage Gateshead (right): Gateshead town centre is top right
Source: RMJM
46    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

development. Gateshead Council took the lead in transforming the area as

identified in its wider regeneration strategy, making opportunistic use of
funding available and land under its control. This succeeded in putting the area
on the map (see Chapter 9). The lack of an initial overall masterplan was
addressed later in the process. For example, a public realm strategy for
Gateshead Quays (as well as for the wider Gateshead Central Area) was
developed in 2003, and tight control was exerted over design quality levels in
subsequent proposals presented by the private sector, such as those for the
mixed-use development between BALTIC and The Sage Gateshead. Eventually,
in 2010, a draft masterplan was issued for consultation, with a view to guiding
completion of the regeneration of Gateshead Quays. This masterplan, finalized
in December 2010, added a proposed International Conference and Exhibition
Centre to be located within the area intended for mixed use, on land owned by
the local authority.
However, where the council-led initiative found obstacles was on land
belonging to other parties. In the central part of Gateshead Quays, Crown-
owned land on the river’s edge has so far thwarted development of a meaningful
water’s edge adjacent to the new public space in front of BALTIC. To the east
of BALTIC, private ownership of industries backing onto the river has also
caused a similar problem by making it difficult to extend public access to the
riverside. Land to the south of the Sage is also the property of various businesses
and occupiers. In the phasing of development proposed in the 2010 masterplan,
these areas of land have not been given any fixed time period for development
given the uncertainties surrounding them, as they are not within the control of
the local authority. For example, the land south of the Sage requires prior site
assembly (see Figure 3.5). In addition, issues of landownership even impinged

Figure 3.5 Map from

2010 Gateshead
Quays masterplan
showing phasing and
landownership
Source: RMJM
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    47

upon the design of the developments that have been completed. For example,
the design brief for the Gateshead Millennium Bridge required that no structure
was to be built on the actual quayside on either side of the river (Johnson and
Curran, 2003).
In conclusion, the factors leading to the success of this regeneration scheme
include investment by the public sector in land assembly, land reclamation and
public realm improvements, which resulted in increased land values and
stronger investor confidence. However, although in the short term, imaginative
use of council-controlled land has radically transformed the area, in the long
term full development of the area has been (at least temporarily) limited by
issues of landownership and control, as well as by the economic climate.

Land assembly: Hull Citybuild

Kingston-upon-Hull, located on the central east coast of England, has a
population of 0.25 million within the city’s tightly drawn administrative
boundaries. Drawing higher income residents back into the city from its wider
travel-to-work area (encompassing 420,000 people) as a way of addressing its
acute levels of socio-economic deprivation is one of the city’s strategic objectives –
which underpin its on-going regeneration drive. Although it has moved away
from the urban centre, Hull’s port still plays a major role in the increasingly
diversified economy of the city. Its fastest growing industry is tourism, and it is
also a major sub-regional retail centre and has a university. The urban dynamics
in Hull are the opposite of those in Edinburgh, with the issue here being how
to stem population and socio-economic decline and draw in residents, rather
than how to respond to economic growth and population influx.
Hull’s development on the confluence of the River Hull and the Humber
Estuary was closely linked to fishing and dock activity from its origins in the
12th century. From the 18th century onwards, ‘town docks’ developed, linked
to intensive urban growth and the development of the fishing industry. The Old
Town and Town Docks, which run throughout the city centre, declined from
the 1930s to the 1960s. Docks outside the city centre have also eventually been
affected by decline, with the main port activities now being concentrated in the
eastern docks and new deep-water terminals on the River Humber. The central
location of the first docks to decline led to early regeneration, with Queens
Dock being closed in 1930 and filled in to create Queens Gardens. The
regeneration of other central docks started in the 1970s and has been extended
to the less central waterfront areas.
Given the close link between this city’s development and its waterfront
activities, port areas have been threaded through the city centre since its origins.
This had led to the existence of large areas of brownfield land and underutilized
sites in the city centre, as well as disconnection between key sites, thus affecting
its attractiveness (GENECON, 2008).
The major waterfront landowner is Associated British Ports (ABP), the ex-
privatized operator that runs the Port of Hull and controls over 50 per cent of
the Humber waterfront within the city boundary. In addition, ABP has
considerable powers to develop this land without applying for permission from
the local authority, except in the case of significant developments. However,
48    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

other waterfront land is in a variety of hands, therefore requiring engagement

with a range of stakeholders when implementing regeneration.
Waterfront regeneration in Hull city centre is taking place as part of a
masterplanned approach which identifies five strategic development areas –
three of these being on the actual waterfront (see Figure 3.6). This masterplan
was initially implemented by Hull Citybuild, an urban regeneration company
(URC) that was created in 2002 by Hull City Council, the regional development
agency (Yorkshire Forward) and the national regeneration agency English
Partnerships. Its governing board included representatives from both the public
and private sectors. Hull Citybuild assembled land into development
opportunities which were made available to the private sector, including both
land owned by the partners in this arm’s length company and that owned by
other organizations and individuals. The latter was acquired through agreement,
when possible; but compulsory purchase was also used. In addition, Hull
Citybuild sometimes funded site clearance, land remediation and site preparation
works. It could also invest in infrastructure servicing sites or providing access
to these. In 2008, Hull Citybuild was superseded by Hull Forward, the
economic development company for Hull, which seeks to further develop Hull
Citybuild’s activities and transform Hull into a global economic player.
During its lifetime, Hull Citybuild delivered two of the strategic development
areas in the masterplan:

• Humber Quays Phase 1 – a high-quality office development and new

residential development, set in high-quality public realm, which helped to
address the outflow of office use in the city and unlocked the potential of
the waterfront through the creation of a new business quarter on it (see
Figure 3.7);

Figure 3.6 Hull city centre masterplan strategic development areas

Source: Hull City Council
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    49

Figure 3.7 One Humber Quays

Source: Hull City Council

• St Stephen’s – a major city centre shopping and leisure development,

together with a transport interchange, which have contributed to boosting
Hull’s attractiveness as a retail centre (GENECON, 2008).

In addition, Hull Citybuild made progress on the other strategic development

areas, securing private-sector partners and/or public funding for most of these.
The local authority supported Hull Citybuild’s activities with its land-use
planning and land assembly powers. Thus, the regeneration company was able to
take the lead in the regeneration process with the backing of government powers,
but without having to comply with the bureaucratic processes which accountability
demands of the public sector. It avoided the discontinuities that political cycles
and events can entail, and it succeeded in persuading both public-sector agencies
and private-sector investors to participate in development activities. However, the
ease and speed of action that this type of company was endowed with through
its political independence was gained at the expense of democratic control of its
actions, even though it was dealing with public land and funds.
The case of Hull is also illustrative of a further issue around land on the
waterfront – its impermanence. The fact that much of Hull’s waterfront area,
and even of its city centre given its prior use as docks, is on reclaimed land next
to a floodplain means that the city is very flat and has to be constantly drained
by pumps. This made it an ideal case for a study undertaken by the Institution
of Civil Engineers (ICE) and the Royal Incorporation of British Architects’
(RIBA) think-tank Building Futures, in 2009, which looked at possible
development scenarios for two waterfront cities in the UK in 100 years’ time,
taking into account sea-level rise projections (Building Futures RIBA and ICE,
2009). In a ‘retreat’ scenario, Hull was seen as giving up land to the sea, with
the old city being protected and becoming an island linked to other communities
by bridges. A ‘defend’ scenario sees large investments being put into building
50    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

sea defences around 90 per cent of the city. In an ‘attack’ scenario, a network
of static platforms and floating structures is created protruding into the estuary,
converting recycled marine infrastructure such as obsolete oil rigs and using
houseboats to provide for a mix of uses. All three scenarios require the
intervention of allocative structures around land, whether in managing retreat
and the associated losses, organizing the financing of sea defences around areas
of land, or advancing into areas which are under the ownership of the Crown.5
The issues raised by climate change are returned to in the concluding chapter.

The variety of approaches to land around the North

Sea
The examples of waterfront regeneration seen in the previous sections illustrate
the variety of landownership patterns that can be encountered within the UK,
ranging from fragmented to concentrated in one powerful landowner, as well
as the physical patterns of land available for regeneration and redevelopment,
ranging from single large areas concentrated around a major port on a
prominent and well-linked site (Leith), through well located but relatively
disconnected sites (Gateshead Quays), to discontinuous patchworks of smaller
plots scattered throughout a city centre (Hull). The planning system in the UK,
though in principle bestowed with strong regulatory powers and with
considerable decision-making authority located at municipal level, has had a
limited role and success in driving the redevelopment of the areas discussed
above. Although land development rights are legally state controlled in the UK,
the degree to which this control is exerted is related to the pattern and form of
landownership. Thus, planning instruments such as masterplanning have not
been used with similar success, or in similar ways, across these examples. In
Edinburgh, the council-initiated overall masterplan for Granton did not succeed
in fully coordinating the subsequent masterplans developed by the separate
major landowners, while the success of the port company’s overall masterplan
(or ‘development framework’) for Leith Docks remains to be seen. In Gateshead,
initial regeneration of Gateshead Quay was successful in the absence of a
masterplan or equivalent planning instrument, while in Hull the city centre
masterplan provided the framework for Hull Citybuild’s engagement with land
assembly and development.
In fact, in these three examples, the forms that leadership in regeneration
took have been as important as the landownership patterns and the planning
regime in terms of determining the process. The case of Edinburgh shows
limited and contested leadership, with the regeneration of Granton lacking in
a single or even shared leadership following the initial intervention of the
local authority via the commissioning of an area-wide masterplan, and that
of Leith depending almost entirely upon the will of its powerful landowner:
Leith Ports. The regeneration of Gateshead Quays illustrates how much can
be achieved through strong and resourceful leadership from the council even
in the face of non-comprehensive control over land and without strong
planning instruments in place. That of Hull shows the potential that a
partnership approach has – through a shared special purpose vehicle such as
an urban regeneration company, in pulling together the resources (including
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    51

land) of the public and private sectors, and leading on the implementation of
an agreed masterplan.
This variety in circumstances and approaches regarding land and leadership
becomes even wider if we look at experience beyond the UK, around the North
Sea.
For example, public landownership in Hamburg’s HafenCity (see Chapter 6),
Germany, allowed a comprehensive masterplan to be prepared for the area, as
well as very stringent and detailed control of how this land was developed.
Land parcels designated for residential development are put out to competitive
tender usually on the basis of a fixed price, the choice of successful bid being
based on the quality of the proposal. The arm’s length company established by
the authorities to develop the area – HafenCity Hamburg GmbH – has
remained in dialogue with the investors and builders throughout the process,
with a phased handover system in place to ensure best quality in results and
process. If the parcel developers fail in their obligations, the land can be
repossessed (HafenCity Hamburg, 2008).
At the other extreme, a major challenge to the regeneration of Östra
Kvillebäcken in Gothenburg, Sweden, was the fragmented nature of
landownership, mostly in the hands of small businesses which were reluctant to
move in order to allow the implementation of district improvements, including
the introduction of a connecting road. Taking this regeneration initiative
forward necessitated a visioning process to build consensus, led by the local
authority. However, as is seen in Chapter 5, this process did not succeed, and it
was eventually abandoned in favour of the purchase of small landholdings by
the local authority in order to increase its power in negotiations with the larger
landowners in the area.
Yet another different example was the redevelopment of the Oslo waterfront,
where an Oslo Waterfront Planning Office was established to carry forward the
implementation of the regeneration of 225ha of land along the fjord, divided
into 13 areas. Redevelopment of the area of Bjørvika in order to build the
Norwegian National Opera and Ballet right at the water’s edge, as well as
public realm, entailed rerouting the existing fjord-front motorway via an
undersea tunnel, thus reconnecting the city with the water. The Oslo Waterfront
Planning Office took a leading role in liaising between the local authority and
other government bodies, landowners, developers and professionals.

Conclusions
The illustrative examples of allocative and authoritative structures around land
in waterfront regeneration – and their relationship to leadership in such
initiatives – from experience around the North Sea provide some insights to
issues that are relevant to this type of activity worldwide. They highlight the
importance of landownership and control, as well as its physical and
environmental characteristics, in city-building in general, including in waterfront
regeneration.
Land availability is therefore seen to be defined not only by physical
constraints but also by socio-cultural norms and state regulation, such as land-
use planning, as well as by economic conditions. It may be determined by
52    maria soledad garcia ferrari and harry smith

circumstances on the actual waterfront, such as obsolescence of previous uses

or increase in land through reclamation, as well as by circumstances elsewhere,
such as, for example, constraints on outward city expansion through green
belts and similar mechanisms.
Landownership forms and patterns range from private to public, from
single to multiple, and from smallholding to large holding – the combination of
these affecting the development process. As waterfront regeneration often takes
place in old port areas, single landownership under a port authority or a
company (shipbuilding, etc.) is quite common; but there are also situations
where landownership is shared across several stakeholders, thus requiring not
only land-use planning but also coordination of actions across different
properties.
The variety of landownership patterns thus raises the issue of land-use
control (i.e. the powers that are exerted over how land is used and the location
of such powers). In the context of the North Sea, such power tends to be seen
as residing formally (or legally) mostly in the municipality; but the examples
seen in this chapter suggest that such formal power is often contested by the de
facto power that landownership confers in practice (a factor that needs to be
taken into account when planning any waterfront regeneration initiative).
In addition, the process of land development and redevelopment can take
various forms, largely related to how land is assembled and made available for
development. The examples in this chapter range from large development units
taken forward by a single developer, whether this is a company or a partnership,
to parcelling into smaller units for development by a diversity of developers. In
the North Sea context, a common feature appears to be that whatever the final
mechanism for land development or redevelopment is, small landowners tend
to get taken out of the process, with land being consolidated into medium and
large development units at least in the initial stages of the regeneration
process.
Finally, long-term land management appears to be addressed to a very
limited extent in the examples seen in this chapter. For example, the obligations
imposed upon subsequent landowners/tenants by landlords in the historical
development of land in the UK have been superseded by extensive municipal
responsibility for the public realm, as is the case mostly around the rest of the
North Sea. However, both through trends in privatization of urban space and
through active experimentation with alternative forms of shared responsibility
over urban space, including the public realm (as, for example, in ‘business
improvement districts’), new forms of land management are emerging. This is
increasingly opening up opportunities for the involvement of wider sectors of
society in the management of city-building and city management processes,
including on the waterfront.

Notes
1� For example, the Land Reform Act 2003 in Scotland allows community organizations to buy
land when it comes to be sold.
2� The other two categories, which are not strongly represented in the countries which
participated in the Waterfront Communities Project, are the regional economic planning
 physical and institutional resources in sustainable waterfront regeneration    53

approach (to some extent used by Germany in the eastern Länder) and the more physical
‘urbanism’ tradition (European Commission, 1997). For a summary of the implications of
these four categories for the spatial planning systems in some of the countries around the
North Sea, see Hague and Jenkins (2005).
3� The City of Edinburgh Council ceded the land to Waterfront Edinburgh Ltd, a company
established by the local authority in partnership with the regional development agency. This
arm’s length company then commissioned the masterplans and coordinated development of
the part of Granton under its direct control.
4� The Millennium Commission was an independent organization established in the UK in
1993 to distribute National Lottery funds to projects that were successfully designated as
millennium projects. The commission ceased to exist in 2006.
5� In the UK, virtually all the seabed out to a distance of 12 nautical miles belongs to the Crown
Estate.
4
Urban Vitality
Social Supervision in
Schiedam, The Netherlands
Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere

Introduction
The buzz of the city

This report attempts to explain what creates the buzz and how a city can retain it,
without overheating or losing momentum. Our core argument is that the buzz
comes from the spirit, or soul, of a place. It is soul – that indefinable X factor –
which gives a city its character and makes it a special place to live in or to visit.

This is a quote from the study Northern Soul: Culture, Creativity and Quality
of Place in Newcastle and Gateshead by Anna Minton (2003). In this study,
Minton claims that a city’s buzz comes from its soul or spirit, and not its
physical form. In The Netherlands, the discovery of culture and creativity as
sources of vitality for cities has also been made only recently, mainly in the
slipstream of Richard Florida’s The Rise of the Creative Class (2002).
As long ago as 1961, the sentence Jane Jacobs chose to open her famous
book The Death and Life of Great American Cities was: ‘This book is an attack
on current city planning and rebuilding.’ Jacobs’s opinion of the urban planning
of the time was that it was too physically oriented and there was too little
concern for the social form and meaning of the urban and the economic
environment. Forty years on, her thinking reverberates in the three pillars –
social, economic, physical – of Dutch urban renewal. Until recently, the
economic aspect received by far the least attention. In fact, the debate in The
Netherlands was about the difficult relationship between physical and social
approaches, more than anything else. One explanation for this one-sidedness
may be the fact that urban renewal was very much a matter of housing policy
instead of urban revitalization. Of course, waterfront development would
require a more integrative approach, and in turn it may be expected that it
drives the thinking in this more integrative direction.
56    kees fortuin and freek de meere

What fascinated Jane Jacobs was not the sum total of the physical, social
and economic aspects of the city; it was its vitality. Major cities certainly have
the density of social interaction and activity that we associate with vitality,
dynamism and innovation. This interaction does not always have to be ‘fun’,
refined or harmonious. On the contrary, creative cities, cities that go through a
‘Golden Age’ ‘are almost certainly uncomfortable, unstable cities, cities in some
kind of basic collective self-examination, cities in the course of kicking over the
traces’ (Hall, 2002, p.34). A creative city is one with problems that it has no
choice but to deal with, which means being innovative. The innovators often
come from outside, often being migrants who in the face of the hostility of
marginalization they encounter have no other option than developing a
perspective on their own. And as these cities under pressure typically are not
the centres of culture, finance and power of their time, but more or less the
outsiders among them, it can be said that innovation springs from the outsiders
in cities who themselves are outsiders (Hall, 2002, p.35). A planned government-
guided innovation would not appear to be the most promising approach: ‘it
seems likely that bottom-up, small-scale, networked innovation will always be
necessary for really fundamental economic change’ (Hall, 2002, p.36). In other
words, a vital city emerges in and through the society itself; it is not created in
a blueprint manner by the government.
The urban task is therefore not served by an exclusively physical approach,
which, besides underestimating the complexity of the task, would also fail to
deal with the dynamism of today’s world. While the bricks stay the same, life
develops at a rapid pace, constantly taking on new forms. It is inconceivable to
create a new physical form or start a new urban renewal for every single change
in social circumstances. The necessary flexibility will have to be achieved in a
different way, which is why we – the authors – are making a case for emphasizing
the social contribution to urban renewal. This aspect must not be forgotten in
the fuzziness of urban development. We have accordingly developed the
position of social supervisor. We explore in this chapter what a social supervisor
might contribute to the urban development processes. We start by introducing
the Schiedam project.

Social supervision in Schieveste, Schiedam

Schiedam is part of the metropolitan area of Rotterdam. It is a small city on the
north bank of the River Maas, on the west side of Rotterdam. Traditionally the
Genever distilleries and the shipping industries were prominent; but today
the economy is mixed. In the process of the breakdown of industry, the
confidence of the city has been damaged. Any area development would have to
help overcome this lack of confidence, and precisely this lack of confidence
would be the main obstacle. It is in this waterfront community, with its declined
shipping industry and with Rotterdam, the second largest harbour in the
world, as its neighbour, that the Schieveste project started. The Schieveste
development, a brownfield site, will include offices, retail, residential,
recreation, leisure and other activities. The site currently sits between a main
railway line and a motorway connecting Schiedam with Rotterdam and the rest
of The Netherlands to the east, and The Hague to the west. The site has
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    57

excellent transport connections but poor environmental quality, with traffic

noise and air pollution. The site is adjacent to Schiedam’s main railway station
and is about 1km from the city centre. The main focus of redevelopment will
be a multipurpose shopping centre. Within this context, new jobs, housing and
facilities will be created, including a regional education centre to improve the
educational attainment of the local work force, which faces high levels of
unemployment.
As a key area of innovation within the development framework, social
integration is being fostered by piloting a new concept of ‘social supervision’,
in parallel with attention to two related initiatives: floor management and
location management (defined below). The Schieveste project engaged a social
supervisor from the outset (i.e. in late 2000). This person liaised closely with
the urban development supervisor in laying the basis for the masterplan. In
Schiedam, social supervision focused on sustainable social integration through
the development of a viable social structure and the mental adoption of
Schieveste by the Schiedammers.

Dealing with urban complexity

Social supervision is not simply a matter of developing social activities and
projects. The combined effect of social and physical interventions is more
complex than just the sum of both effects. Some of the complexities involved
are discussed in this section.
Cities (and, for that matter, countries and neighbourhoods) manage and
develop whatever resources they have. Examples of resources are local identity,
social and cultural capital, administrative networks, economic factors, the
quality of the body of public servants, the housing stock, and so on. Cities use
these resources, but at the same time develop them in order to improve their
position in the midst of other cities. In the process, social, physical and
economic developments interact, with the involvement not only of the
government or professional organizations, but also of individuals in society.
‘The city’ in this connection is therefore not a monolith, but a network of
mutually influencing developments, comprising countless actors, both inside
and outside the city’s administrative boundaries. It would be naive to think that
a single actor – for the sake of argument, the city council – is able to ‘save’ the
city on its own. It would be equally naive to think that a single strategy,
whether physical, social, cultural or economic – could do so.
As an example, let’s consider Florida’s (2002, 2004) focus on creative class.
Florida claims that the creative class is specifically decisive in the development
of successful cities, and discards social capital as well as human capital as
explanations. This claim has been contested (e.g. by Hoyman and Farici, 2009).
It has also been argued that his theory is circular (Peck, 2005). For a former
industrial and shipbuilding community such as Schiedam, this circularity would
present an insurmountable problem: in order to have a sizeable creative class,
you would already have to have a sizeable creative class.
However, on a practical level it is also possible to depict a plausible scenario
in which social, human and creative capital approaches each play a part in a
positive dynamic within the urban community. Cities such as Schiedam would
58    kees fortuin and freek de meere

be well advised to develop a substantial civil society and work on socially

inclusive policies (i.e. social capital). Using the resources within civil society and
in their social networks, individuals with initiative and better education will
thrive and start to work on a fine-grained urban structure of services and
business activity (i.e. human capital). The cultural vanguards whose time has
yet to arrive should certainly be counted among these individuals, such as
skaters, squatters and rappers. They can develop their talents in a poor
neighbourhood at little expense, while the creative class dominates the
gentrified, more expensive neighbourhoods. These cultural vanguards could
then develop into the cultural elite of the future, which at a certain point will
start to attract the creative class (i.e. creative capital) from elsewhere. You will
then have a cultural strategy that emerges from the interplay between the city’s
social, human and creative capital.
From a social point of view, the challenge of urban renewal is further
enhanced by the different levels of analysis and intervention involved. Whereas
city planners, architects and other actors in the physical sector are used to
working with the interaction of different scales or different levels at a time, for
social actors in The Netherlands – community workers, social workers,
educational and neighbourhood services – this is quite new. They also lack the
elaborate professional infrastructure (e.g. organizations, education, funds and
awards) to develop the necessary qualifications and expertise. And, finally, they
do not have the position in the project organizations around area development.
A community worker will not meet project developers, investors, architects and
city planners and have discussions with them on a regular basis, so there is
essentially no channel for communication about the social challenges involved
in particular area developments. Of course, there are exceptions, an excellent
one being Roombeek, a neighbourhood in Enschede that was ruined in a huge
explosion of a fireworks depot. The reconstruction relied heavily on intensive
participation of the residents, who also had to deal with the trauma they
experienced. The community worker – a social entrepreneur with an excellent
reputation – played a major part in the success; but still in the eyes of the public
it is the city planner involved who ‘reconstructed’ Roombeek.
A social supervisor thus has to face different challenges at a time. The first
is the development of the city as a whole and of the way in which the city can
utilize and develop its resources. In the case of Schiedam, the development of
Schieveste would not only have to be a success in itself, but would also have to
boost the confidence of the city. A successful development does not do this if a
sense of ownership and pride in the accomplishment are lacking. Participation
and involvement of Schiedam at large would thus be a major goal. Second is
the interaction of social actors and institutions with other involved disciplines
and sectors. As noted above, this involves having a better position in the
process. But the development of a shared conceptual framework and a set of
established methods and instruments to link the social with other perspectives
are also necessary. It should be noted that the challenge is not purely the
development of a social framework for area development. The focus is on the
interplay. Social professionals are players in an orchestra, just as all the other
players, and they have to work on how they play as a team, not just on their
individual qualities. Finally, there is the strength and quality of social
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    59

interventions. Working with residents has its relevance for the city as a whole
because the residents are its most important resource. But this also requires its
own quality standards, and there is still much to be gained.
Each action must generally be seen simultaneously in the light of all three
levels. An action may have maximum effect on a given level, but still be below
standard if it is counterproductive on other levels. For example, maximum
effort can be put into resident participation in the context of the development
of Schieveste (the third level); but unless this participation leads to changes in
the way in which the physical sector works (the second level), it will produce
frustration, which on the first level may contribute to a negative atmosphere in
the city.
Addressing three levels simultaneously is certain to make the urban renewal
task more complex. But it will also considerably enlarge the perspective for
actual renewal, for increasing the city’s dynamism and, thus, the efficiency of
urban renewal as a policy instrument.

A social supervisor
The idea of social supervision is an analogy of the position of a prominent city
planner or architect as supervisor in area development. Such a supervisor often
produces the vision and the masterplan, and is responsible for the quality and
consistency of the masterplan in terms of the contributions of different
designers, developers and professionals working in the area. Likewise, the
social supervisor judges the quality and consistency of contributions to the area
development, but from a social perspective.
The concept developed out of a growing number of projects in which a
better fit between physical and social contributions was sought. In 1999, the
city council of Rotterdam prepared a market analysis to study the possibilities
for further development of de Wilhelminapier, part of the Kop van Zuid
waterfront development in Rotterdam. One of the participants was TRS, a
project developer. TRS had the ambition to make a contribution in which social
and economic aspects would be as prominent as physical features. For the
social aspect, they contacted the Verwey-Jonker Institute. The social vision that
Kees Fortuin and Jan Willem Duyvendak, who worked for the Verwey-Jonker
Institute at the time, made was one of the main reasons that Rotterdam City
Council chose the TRS plan. When Schiedam subsequently initiated the
Schieveste project, the process manager, Ben Westerdijk, asked Kees Fortuin if
he was interested in being the social counterpart of the supervisor, and suggested
the name ‘social supervisor’ for the function.
At the start of the Schieveste project, the idea that you can formulate ‘social
images’ for an area in development was new in terms of social policy. The
sector tends, rather, to see itself as the implementer of the visions that emerge
from physical thinking, or as a kind of a ‘lubricant’ for the physical process. A
social supervisor can compensate for this submissive role and, if possible, turn
it into a leading one.
The following section addresses the task that cities actually always have,
which is to strengthen their position among other cities by developing and
managing their resources. In this situation, the resource that is of concern to the
60    kees fortuin and freek de meere

social supervisor is ‘social and creative capital’. This is not an isolated and
independent part of urban renewal, but has to be viewed in conjunction with
spatial and physical resources, such as the housing stock and the urban space.
Next, this chapter outlines the role, position and instruments of a social
supervisor. This is followed by a discussion of practical experiences in Schiedam.
Finally, after a brief review of the further development of the figure of the social
supervisor in Alkmaar, conclusions are drawn on the constraints and tasks for
the future.

What does a social supervisor do?

Tasks
A social supervisor facilitates integrating the design process within the social
context. Architects, urban developers and their clients often try to harmonize
the design with the surroundings and history of the site concerned. The social
supervisor has the same task, but focuses on the social aspects. Some of the
important topics that he or she gathers information on are the local social
history, the local culture (in particular, culture with a small ‘c’), the identity, and
the use and potential of the area. The social supervisor uses the knowledge
gained as input to the design process, developing strategies for creating social
impressions, and monitors the social quality of the area to be developed. In
more concrete terms, the above comes down to the following points:

• It is expected that a social supervisor develop ‘social impressions’ that are

compatible with the area or project. The impression of an area emerges
from how it is perceived, which is always related to the things that happen
there. An impression materializes from what people experience, not only
visually, but also emotionally: people experience pleasant or unpleasant
things in a given area. Furthermore, the impression is never ‘finished’ and
constantly changes. Different people develop different impressions. History
and past experiences are also important. A shopkeeper who has had to
endure nuisance from the same source for years will have little faith in
initiatives to alleviate the problem. In this way, the past can act as a brake;
but positive effects are equally likely to act as a flywheel.
• It is expected that a social supervisor develop strategies for turning desirable
impressions into reality, as well as organizational concepts for securing the
desired social climate and ensuring that it ‘bends’ to suit changing
circumstances. Because social impressions are rooted in events, and events
never cease, a certain amount of managing what happens is necessary. This
management does not stop when the development in the area is complete,
but has to continue afterwards. The task is therefore far broader than one
of organizing public participation within a specific development process.
What is needed is a continuous development of social structure based on
events and activities. Organization is necessary not only to guarantee
continuity of this kind, but also to build and extend the social impressions,
structure and social quality from a professional perspective. It is essential
not to follow a one-sided technical or commercial approach, but to utilize
all social opportunities.
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    61

• It is expected that a social supervisor monitor the social and the overall
quality of the area or project to be developed. We are not saying that the
social view should predominate; other experts from other sectors also
monitor overall quality. The social supervisor is the champion of social
quality in the development process. He or she protects the project against
poorly judged moves and identifies opportunities for achieving favourable
social effects during the development process. The important thing is not to
protect institutional interests, or an unbalanced social orientation just as a
counterpart of an unbalanced physical orientation. The urban renewal task
can only reach fruition from the perspective of the development of the city
as a whole. The social supervisor therefore argues the case for the social
viewpoint from a sectoral, but integral, perspective.

Position
Social supervisors’ main role is in the design and planning process, and less so
in their execution. Their contribution is on a programme level to the extent to
which they forge an inspiring vision that mobilizes local society and all
stakeholders. They must make the necessary difference with persuasiveness and
information gathered in the contact between the various parties.

Figure 4.1 Schiedam inner city

Source: Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere
62    kees fortuin and freek de meere

Social supervisors contribute to – and are not owners of – the masterplan,

which is the basis for the chosen development direction. Their recommendations
are oriented towards administration and programme management. They need a
budget for consultancy and can issue instructions as needed for deploying people,
resources and competencies by the local authority and the project management
office. It goes without saying that these people, resources and competencies have
to be present and available, which sets requirements on an administrative level.
The ambition must actually exist on an administrative level for making a real
social achievement. Because the social supervision concept is still under
construction, some pioneering work is called for, which makes it important to
have good relations with social implementers. Social supervisors will preferably
seek partnership with local social organizations (not only welfare organizations,
but also those in education, sport and culture, as well as the police), not to
mention commercial partners outside the municipality.

Social quality
In terms of the social quality to be advocated, the social supervisor has three
guiding concepts. It is important to strike a proper balance between these three
because a one-sided emphasis could destroy the innovative capacity of the
area.

Social vitality
Social vitality is concerned with the dynamism in the area in a social and
economic sense. Vitality is more than the harmonious vision of liveliness,
animation, freedom and growth. Vitality does not stop conflicts, friction,
irritations and disasters from happening, but does mean that ‘the area’ can cope
with them far better. From a physical and spatial viewpoint, the opportunities
for change and adaptation are modest. In practice, the main ways in which an
area adapts to changes will be through social and economic processes.

Personal safety
A society will ultimately have to produce its own safety, however necessary the
professional ‘safety-makers’ may be. It is well known that the quality of social
relationships is the most important determinant of a perception of safety. Urban
renewal, therefore, demands a public that has an attachment to the space and
that will take the space under its protection. Social activities ensure social
structure and, therefore, safety. They provide an environment for creating the
social networks that offer safety through an ability to intervene if necessary.
This is true as early as the construction phase. For example, children make the
physical space their own in an extremely intense way. From the viewpoint of
physical safety, it is perhaps understandable that children should be kept away
from building sites; but from the viewpoint of attachment, and therefore
personal safety, to do so would be counterproductive and a missed opportunity.
This is almost practically impossible unless under very controlled conditions;
but it is necessary to make this kind of participation possible.
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    63

Social sustainability
An area is created with the aim of sustainability. However, thinking about
social sustainability starts with a consideration of impermanence. An area that
stays fixed when it is surrounded by turbulent social developments is like a
rudderless and helpless dinghy at the mercy of a violent current: it is unable to
manoeuvre. Social sustainability is served well if it is adaptive with respect to
developments in the environment. It also has to provide for reflection and
monitoring because it is essential to anticipate changes. Management (in a
broad sense, including management of social activities) will have to be
sufficiently flexible to respond rapidly to new situations. Proper integration
within urban and regional networks is important for being able to generate and
mobilize resources quickly.

Two leading principles

Continuity versus discontinuity
A physical approach often involves discontinuity. It is often the case that an
undeveloped area is filled with new buildings, or existing buildings are replaced
by something new. In creating more differentiated housing, a discontinuity is
also introduced (e.g. by bringing people with higher incomes into the
neighbourhood). In a social approach, it is actually continuity that you try to
use by building upon the opportunities of the existing society, and seeking out
the history and identity of the area and the existing social structures, qualities
and opportunities. While doing so, you try to set a process in motion towards
a more vital society. In the spirit of Jane Jacobs, we might perhaps say that a
city has to pull itself out of the quagmire mainly by its own hair. Its citizens live
in the city and nowhere else. If they are enterprising, they will devote their
efforts to the city. They are part of a social structure that exists as opposed to
being a fantasy. A social supervisor therefore builds upon what already exists
in order to develop a more vital urban area. The fact is that continuity exists in
social life. A city in a social sense is not changed fundamentally just by altering
the built environment.

The development strategy: Activity takes precedence over structure

The development strategy in the social approach is fundamentally different
from the physical one. In the latter, a physical structure is first developed and
built before being taken into use. Only then do the activities begin: structure
therefore takes precedence over activity. The opposite is true in the social
approach: a social structure cannot emerge on the basis of a preconceived final
picture. It develops through a pattern of social activities: activity therefore takes
precedence over structure.
A social structure develops in use. This use leads to a history of the area,
social impressions and attachment on the part of the users. They may be
positive or negative, but together they form the building blocks that you have
to work with. The social supervisor must therefore devise a development
strategy in which the social impression is created through activity. The
Figures 4.2a and 4.2b Activity changes space: a skating rink on the station forecourt
Source: Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    65

impression is like a plant that you care for. You do not know what the plant
will look like exactly, and you only have limited control. The centre of the
‘creative activity’ is actually not the designer, but society. The point of a social
approach is therefore to stimulate activities that are always the starting point
of a growing number of other activities (see also the section on ‘Budget’ below).
Attachment and long-term commitment ultimately arise only in a long chain of
events that is never really broken.

Experiences in Schieveste
Introduction
The independent appointment of the social supervisor in the Schieveste project
was advantageous in that he was outspoken in terms of the participation of
local residents in the development project. We will briefly describe some of the
work of the social supervisor on a practical level. However, there were also
several concerns. We will set out the most important ones at the end of this
section, together with the limitations that a social supervisor has to work
with.

Location and floor management

A high point in the Schieveste project development was reached with the
publication of the Schieveste masterplan. The masterplan is evidence of vision
and ambition, not only to provide Schieveste with an attractive appearance in
terms of spatial quality and economic potential, but also from a social
perspective, making the location vital, sustainable and safe, and reflecting local
culture, history and identity. In addition, neighbourhood support for the
Schieveste project was strong at this early phase, and a great number of
activities involving the community in all its guises were organized. The initial
organization was an unofficial conglomerate of activities, cooperating partners
and sources of funding. The challenge was to develop the existing organization
into a more formalized area management organization that was sensitive to the
commercial aspects of development but did not lose sight of social elements and
the sense of community.
A location management instrument was devised in order to retain and,
where possible, strengthen this initial character of Schieveste. Location
management was defined as the instrument that is available jointly to the
market and government for retaining and strengthening Schieveste’s long-term
liveability, quality and property value. While the social supervisor helped to
organize the overall strategic approach to community participation, the
‘location manager’ was available on a day-to-day basis to promote local
activities and events that improve the social cohesion of the area. For Schieveste,
these included:

• a temporary winter skating rink onsite to mark the launch of Schieveste

from a local residents’ point of view;
Figure 4.3 Children filling in a questionnaire
Source: Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere

Figure 4.4 Residents presenting their vision

Source: Kees Fortuin and Freek de Meere
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    67

• a formal lunch on the construction site for local residents in order to give
them a first-hand view of redevelopment;
• a variety of briefings for the community, including special briefings for
children;
• ‘a platform of prominent Schiedammers’ who championed activities during
the development of Schieveste – as a result, the development would carry
their ‘mark of support’, building positive consensus around the
development;
• a major information meeting on redeveloping an urban entertainment
centre at Schieveste.

These activities were aimed at establishing an organic link between the

Schiedam community and Schieveste, and initiated by the social supervisor. For
instance, the temporary ice rink was created on the railway station forecourt
that was due to be transformed so that the residents and users could continue
to perceive it as ‘theirs’. But the timing was essential. The possible displacement
of drugs-related nuisance was anticipated in good time when a more stringent
approach in Spangen in Rotterdam was introduced. Schiedam was able to
ensure that the station forecourt did not become the new drugs hot-spot.
After this, the ‘floor manager’ post was introduced as a way of promoting
a positive social climate. The manager was based in a small cabin on site where
he held weekly surgeries. He could also be reached on his mobile telephone.
The manager was present in Schieveste since the start of the first phase of the
project, in May 2005, as the ‘eyes and ears’ of the everyday experience in the
area. On the level of the ‘high street’, the manager acts as an important link
between the area’s existing social relationships and those to be developed. He
builds relationships with people who are to play an important role and engages
passers-by in conversation in order to get feedback on the area from their
perspective. It is essential that the manager’s information on the social situation
in the area is incorporated within the project’s organizational decisions. He
links detailed knowledge of the people on the ground with the competencies of
the project organization. Among the subjects that may come up is the location
of seating, rerouting a cycle path, policing requirements or organizing an
activity. The floor manager’s input should reflect the viewpoint of residents and
other users of the centre, sharing a similar professional approach to the social
supervisor, but with actual authority on an operational level. Key lessons from
this experience are the need to develop a business plan for the ‘floor
management’ and to locate the manager within the area renewal organization.
Floor management will be incorporated within the permanent organization for
location management that will be paid for by Schieveste customers. However,
it remains to be seen whether all the work had satisfactory results. The ice rink
was moved and the municipality cut back on security sharply. This is evidence
that initial success offers no guarantee whatsoever of quality and continuity.

Some concerns
The idea behind the concept of social supervisor is that a social contribution to
urban renewal will be most effective if it is present from the outset and has a
68    kees fortuin and freek de meere

‘champion’ within the development process. This idea was tested in real life in
Schieveste. Of course, practical problems did arise. For example, the social
supervisor’s role should be made clear to all involved over and over again, as
many will be completely unfamiliar with the role and its rationale. However, in
the process of looking for proof of concept, the three most important concerns
were about organizational issues, the capacities of a social supervisor and the
instruments that he or she can use.
First, people within the local organizational structure continually asked how
the social supervisor is located within the organization. Because the supervisor
has an unclear local role, their opinions can also be ignored as coming from
‘someone outside the structure’. The lesson here is that the social supervisor needs
to work hard to establish links not only with the community, but to ‘build
bridges’ with local government officers, politicians and representatives of the
development company. This is essential if the views of the social supervisor are
to be taken seriously and to influence the development process.
Second, in the case of Schieveste, the social supervisor came from a
background of research and policy analysis, and there were concerns that his
use of language was overcomplicated for an audience unfamiliar with
community development expertise. Both problems were addressed by open
discussion of key issues and how to improve on-going processes of social
supervision. This process of continuous improvement is the essence of an
action-research approach. While the process was sometimes difficult, it created
a better fit between academic thinking/working and practice.
Third, a key aspect of social supervision is open and honest review of on-
going activities in the project as it affects social participants. Schiedam tackled
this by both using academic partners for critical but constructive review, and
hosting a mini-symposium which reviewed the project from a variety of
viewpoints, including those of local residents and workers. Their views, brought
together in a video, were not always comfortable for project officers. But they
did result in recommendations (e.g. ‘link Schieveste with elderly and disabled
people’), ‘points of attention’ and seven priorities for action.

Working on limitations
The experiences in Schieveste and those in other cities (e.g. Inverdan in
Zaanstad) (Fortuin and de Meere, 2004) led the social supervisor to describe
five essential points upon which to reflect.

Involvement from the outset

If the social supervisor becomes involved in the process at a late stage, he or she
could easily interfere with the status quo that has developed already. This
disruption might sometimes have a positive effect, but in this scenario we
would expect the social supervisor to be seen as a risk factor for continuity.
Furthermore, many assumptions are set down in an early planning stage, and
they become more firmly embedded as the project proceeds. A social supervisor
who enters too late will no longer be able to exercise much influence. The social
viewpoint will then be limited to ‘refining’ a masterplan that was initially
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    69

worked out from a physical viewpoint. Anything else will be considered to be

pushing back the train to stations that were passed long ago.

Positioning and continuity

Although much of a social supervisor’s advice is given informally and sometimes
also publicly to keep away from administration and politics, we actually urge
continuous interaction. Keeping a distance has great benefits for designers and
implementers, but if you are working on the future of the city, you have to have
an understanding with the elected administration. Because social development
never ends, the interaction with the administration will need to have a
permanent character. However, the social supervisor should ensure cover
against the vicissitudes of politics. No positioning whatsoever can, or should be
able to, protect the social supervisor against the field of conflicting forces that
naturally surrounds urban renewal.

Chemistry and momentum

The social supervisor has to deal with various counterparts. In Zaanstad
(Fortuin and de Meere, 2004), a counterpart within the municipal social sector
proved fruitful. Without such a counterpart, the communication gap with the
generally far more physically and technically oriented project organization
could rapidly become too great. However, it is also necessary to build on
‘chemistry and momentum’ within the project. A team that inspires each other
also generates new ideas and attracts outside interest. The resources may then
expand steadily after the start. It is not uncommon in urban renewal to work
in this way: starting with a small team that is inspired and functions as a unity,
and then growing in quality and the number of people involved in activities.

Budget
In Schieveste, the social supervisor worked with a marginal budget. This is
understandable in view of the lack of any tradition with social supervision. At the
same time, other parties in the social sector are normally tightly controlled so
that, even if resources were to exist, there is little enthusiasm for partnership. The
supervisor then suggested developing a ‘living money strategy’. Every activity that
was organized had to give rise to a multitude of new activities. And every budget
used preferably linked the programme with other policy programmes and
financial resources. In this way, social activities could act as multipliers for both
the activities themselves and for the budget. It cannot be stressed enough that
funding and the search for it contribute to the development of the project. For
example, developing activities and finding the necessary funding is a training
context for local talents, and this creates precisely the desired vitality.

Routines and reflection

Something that is hard to organize in the on-going process of urban renewal is
reflection, both in the government and in the commercial world. Although the
task is extremely complex, the integration of physical and social approaches
70    kees fortuin and freek de meere

still cannot be taken for granted. A condition for developing social supervision
is the documentation of experiences, reflection, research and exchange of
knowledge, not only at the higher levels, but down to the very lowest level.
After all, the complexity of the process makes it very sensitive to ‘initial
conditions’ and details.

Experiences in Overstad, Alkmaar

One project that enabled us to take the concept of social supervision one step
further was the development of Overstad in Alkmaar. Alkmaar has a finely
grained old inner city that is surrounded by water, which is an obstacle to its
growth. Next to the centre, on the other side of the North Holland Channel,
lies a business district, Overstad, which will be restructured as a second part of
the city centre. The land is owned by 42 different parties, which makes it
complicated to develop. Alkmaar has contracted a social supervisor. He is
independent and has been commissioned directly by the city council. Quality is
considered a public interest, so the commission should come from the public
sector. As quality entails a certain degree of subjectivity, it is preferred that the
supervisor is an independent professional of considerable standing. The city
planner/supervisor is Adriaan Geuze and the social supervisor is Kees Fortuin.
New in Alkmaar is the fact that the municipality set out a tender to select a
private-sector party with whom to form a public–private partnership. The
social supervisor was part of the selection committee, and social criteria played
a substantial part in assessing the proposals. As a consequence, a partner was
selected with an enthusiastic attitude towards social aspects of area development.
It was a consortium in which a major housing corporation participated, so it
brought with it a lot of expertise in participation and co-creation practices. The
municipality and the consortium thus both participate in a public–private
partnership (Nieuw Overstad BV). Besides Nieuw Overstad, independent
projects taken forward by individual owners are still possible as long as they fit
within the masterplan. However, every plan is subjected to the same quality
assessment by the supervisors.
The process is moving strongly in the direction of an organic development,
as are the underlying concepts. This means existing qualities are preserved and
taken as a departure point for further development instead of moving them all
aside and replacing them by completely new buildings and sites. Although a
business district is normally considered a low standard environment, the
existing entrepreneurship is a definite quality and high value is placed on the
participation of local entrepreneurs. Furthermore, a growth perspective – as
opposed to a ‘building perspective’ – has been adopted, and reciprocal
relationships with the urban environment are encouraged. The transition phase
of Overstad is part and parcel of the on-going ‘historical development’ of the
city.
At the time of writing, a social and cultural area vision has been completed,
as well as a study of the ‘cultural biography’ of Overstad, resulting in a cultural
atlas. At the moment, a ‘social quality plan’ is being written, which is a
framework for assessing the social quality of development plans. It specifies the
social requirements that project developers will have to meet. For instance, they
 urban vitality: social supervision in schiedam, the netherlands    71

are required to develop a vision on participation and processes of ‘mental

adoption’ by the public. Participation plans are being worked out and a start
has been made with forming an organization for area management in which
residents, businesses, visitors and other stakeholders take an active part.
Good opportunities are being created for establishing businesses and
creative industry. On the other hand, more traditional developments are also
being planned and it is expected that building activities will soon start.

Conclusions
Our experiences in Schiedam and Alkmaar suggest that social supervision is a
promising concept, still in the making, but definitely able to add value to urban
renewal. The added value manifests itself in four areas.
First, the social supervisor puts social interventions in a better position to
contribute. The single most important success factor is a good understanding
and rapport between project manager, social supervisor and city planner/
supervisor. It is also essential to have enterprising organizations that respond
alertly to the opportunities offered, including social entrepreneurs who work
on a commercial basis. The basis for financing these activities in Alkmaar lies –
apart from limited initial investments by the local government – in the
obligation for developers to comply with the social quality plan, deliver a vision
on the social processes involved and contribute to the necessary measures.
Second, social supervision also leads to a broader interpretation of social
policy, in which it acts as a productive factor and a contributor to value
creation. In particular, the attention to culture and local identity offers
opportunities for a social policy that is not limited to ‘compensation for
deficiencies’. The focus is broader than the individual having to make up lost
ground, integrate or develop a new perspective. Social processes are seen as
productive factors in the creation of the city of the future. Their relevance
grows because the city and the developing area mutually influence each other –
the area development driving the ambition and dynamics of the city, and the
city developing its quality and vitality. Social processes are relevant to current
issues such as globalization, the network society, the risk society, innovation,
increasing mobility, integration, ethnic and cultural tensions, and perceptions
of safety. This offers new perspectives for the social sector, which in The
Netherlands is in great need of new inspiration.
Third, social contribution has a clear added value compared with other
disciplines involved. It counters the tendency of many developers to start
building as soon as possible because they, too, have to think of the social
climate that they leave behind when the building activity has stopped.
Conversely, the authors believe it will enable the social sector to link up with
the complex and dynamic issues that are so important for the future of the
cities.
And, fourth, in both practical examples, it would appear that more is
possible in the city than was thought. Social supervision is able to help develop
the strength and pride of the city. Alkmaar shows that the dynamic within the
development continues to grow, creating chances for many more urban actors
than in a traditional approach. It may even contribute to financial sustainability
72    kees fortuin and freek de meere

because, until now, the developments in Alkmaar seem to have suffered

relatively little from the current economic crisis.
All of these activities have given us a better insight into the ‘symbolic factor’
(local culture and identity) of Overstad and in the ways to turn them into
productive forces that stimulate area development. With hindsight, the project
in Schiedam could have made better use of this symbolic factor. Schiedam is
definitely a waterfront community. The collapse of shipbuilding activities, in
particular, has left its mark on the local community. It should be noted that
Schiedam Oost, the neighbourhood closest to Schieveste, was built specifically
for the workers of a large shipyard.
In contrast, in Overstad, research into the roots of the area and the
involvement of people with a history in Overstad make it possible to relate to
the identity and the drives of stakeholders in the area, thus creating more
momentum for the transformation.
Looking back, we come to the conclusion that social supervision is a
focused intervention that brings the ideal of a vital city nearer. It is not social
contribution by itself, however, that creates this result. It is the complex process
of area development in which the social aspect is but one of many aspects. In
this sense, the vision of Jane Jacobs presented at the beginning of this chapter
is not lost.
5
On Dialogues and Municipal
Learning in City-Building
Examples from Waterfront
Development in Gothenburg
Joakim Forsemalm and Knut Strömberg

Introduction
Gothenburg is the second largest city in Sweden and has the largest port in
Scandinavia. Until the middle of the 1970s, Gothenburg was also one of the
world’s leading shipbuilding harbours when the global shipbuilding crisis, in a
very short time, completely changed the world map of shipbuilding. The
shipyards, which were all located on the northern riverside, were closed down
and numerous people became unemployed. After some unsuccessful attempts
to re-engineer the vast areas for other industrial activities, the brownfield sites
were cleaned up, and these huge areas have, since then, during a 30-year
period, gradually been redeveloped with the official goal of creating a good
mixed city with high-quality housing, knowledge-based activities and high-
quality leisure areas as a new mental model for urban development. The focus
from the city has been on attracting business (e.g. through an information
technology (IT) and design cluster with a local TV/radio station) and
establishing a science park located close to a new campus for the two city
universities in the old industrial buildings. From an economic point of view, the
conversion is considered very successful. From an architectural and planning
point of view, it has good spatial standards; but the area has been criticized for
being dead and lacking urbanity.
However, it is not only the areas close to the riverside that have been
affected by the closure of the shipyards. Subcontractors and suppliers of
services for the industry have also been affected and have left other areas in the
vicinity of the waterfronts. Once the upgrading of the waterfront areas began,
gentrification processes became imminent. This is what is feared by many for
the development of the southern riverside, close to the historical city centre,
after the heavy car traffic along the river has been led underground in a tunnel
and left key areas open for new developments and a reconnection of the city
centre with the water.
74    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

Figure 5.1 Location of the three case study waterfront regeneration areas in Gothenburg:
Södra Älvstranden (1), Långgatorna (2) and Östra Kvillebäcken (3)
Source: Knut Strömberg, based on map from Gothenburg City Planning Office

During the last few decades, the development of Western cities has come to be
increasingly characterized by political goals such as integration, participation
and sustainability, often without being concrete or made operational. In order
to achieve such broad and sweeping goals, the existing procedures and tools of
the planning system are not enough; rather, cooperation with many actors
outside of the domains of city planning authorities is required. The transition
from ‘government’ to ‘governance’ – the process of moving decision-making
from hierarchical, rigid and formal organizations to network-based and
consensus-driven processes – has been questioned as to whether such
cooperation is just paying ‘lip-service’, whether the participatory models are
alibis for decision-making happening behind closed doors, or whether
the openness to different kinds of dialogues make any real impression on the
outcome of the decision-making processes. This was widely discussed in the
media and by researchers in Gothenburg during the first decade of the 2000s.
During the mid 2000s, many Swedish municipalities conducted public
dialogues with citizens and various constellations of actors affected by or
affecting different municipal decisions (Cars and Strömberg, 2005).
Unfortunately, the dialogue projects conducted have largely been carried out
without the results being properly documented and analysed. There are
important questions that need answers: do we get better cities through dialogue
or other participatory models? Are these approaches more efficient as planning
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    75

methods? Does participation become a value in itself (Strömberg, 2001;

Strömberg and Kain, 2005)? How are participants’ viewpoints in these
processes taken care of? How are (abstract) political objectives integrated
within everyday planning practice? Does the organizational structure of
planning need to change and perhaps be endowed with new competences to
meet the increased amount of ‘politics’ in complex planning issues?
This chapter examines three examples of how different forms of dialogue
and participatory models have been used for different areas affected by
waterfront development during different phases of the planning process (see
Figure 5.1). The Södra Älvstranden case describes a public dialogue in a
visionary phase of the planning process before programming and detailed
planning. In the district of Långgatorna, the process was in the phase of
developing a programme for the restoration of an existing area at the time of
writing. The third, Östra Kvillebäcken, is in a former mixed area that has been
used for small-scale industry, business and housing and was in a state of
transition. The cases studied have the same organizational base or point of
departure: the municipal planning office.

Dialog Södra Älvstranden

Transforming old industrial areas: Northern Älvstranden
The global shipbuilding crisis during the mid 1970s drove the four shipyards in
Gothenburg into bankruptcy and left an enormous redundant area in the heart
of the city. A large re-engineering process was initiated, and to be able to handle
all material resources needed for investments in infrastructure, decontamination
of land, etc., a drastic change in the allocative structures was implemented
(Healey, 2007, p.21, citing Giddens, 1984): a publicly owned development
company, NUAB Ltd, was established. All planning and building proposals in
Sweden have to pass the municipal planning office and be accepted by the
building permission committee (Strömberg, 2008). NUAB Ltd was, however,
commissioned to coordinate and develop the area under the strategic leadership
of the city’s leading politicians on the company’s board. This implies a change
in the authoritative structure (Giddens, 1984; Healey, 2007) since the
redevelopment was planned and tested politically before it went through the
standard planning procedures.
The company is run, as politically decided, without any subsidies. It invests
in infrastructure and develops activities, buildings and houses in close
cooperation with actors who consider establishing in the area. This gives a
strong economic incentive to NUAB, which owns the land, leads and monitors
construction, and also gets the profit when the products are sold. The profit is
reinvested in infrastructure and in developing new projects. The key working
instruments for the company are networking, close cooperation and design
dialogues with potential actors (Öhrström, 2005). The transformation is not
only an urban planning endeavour, but a social-spatial process (Mandanipour,
1996) with an interactive play between the existing infrastructure, land,
financial capital, potential locators and other actors. This also constitutes a
new mental model (Jenkins and Smith, 2001) for the former industrial areas – a
76    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

‘city of knowledge’ is to be established. The new organizational form for

implementing the new approach is called the Northern Riverside Model.
The public interest in the development of the northern riverside has so far
been low and citizens have not taken part in participatory processes for
developing the area beyond what is regulated by the Housing and Building Act.
One explanation for the low interest is that the area is situated on the socially
‘wrong’ side of the river and is composed of mainly old industrial areas.

Reclaiming the waterfront: Southern Älvstranden

Quite another situation, concerning public interest, emerged when a lively
debate on what should happen on the opposite southern side of the river, Södra
Älvstranden, started after a decision was taken to construct a car tunnel to
redirect traffic away from the waterfront. This part of the riverside is in the
vicinity of the historical city centre; but the connection between the river and
the city has been cut off for 30 years by a heavily loaded road along the
riverside (see Figures 5.2 and 5.3). The opportunity to reconnect the city with
the water called for a new mental model, from a heavy loaded transportation
artery to an attractive part of the city centre as ‘a living room for all citizens’.
The great public interest also gave the municipality opportunity for testing a
new institutional model, based on the experiences from the northern riverside,
to coordinate the redevelopment (Jenkins and Smith, 2001).

Figure 5.2 Södra Älvstranden from the south-west before the opening of the tunnel
Source: Stadsbyggnadskontoret, 2006
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    77

The public debate became extra lively when a political decision changed the
authoritative structure (Healey, 2007) for the development by giving NUAB Ltd
the assignment to also develop the southern riverside, due to its demonstrated
good ability to develop the old shipyards area. The first important step was to
change the allocative structure. The ownership of all publicly owned land in the
area was transferred to the development company in order to give it the ability
to do the same trick as on the other side of the river: to develop the area; enhance
the quality by planning, organizing, making investments and then selling off;
capitalizing on the improved quality; and ‘harvesting’ the gain to put into further
investments in the area. The requirement of self-financing was the same as in the
northern riverside. The problem is that there is not so much land to develop on
the southern side as on the other side, and the investments have to provide higher
profit margins. Reacting to these events, citizens then noted the development on
the northern riverside and put forward opinions such as: ‘no more exclusive
housing for the rich’, ‘the area belongs to all citizens’, ‘no more dead office areas’,
‘reclaim the riverside for pedestrian and cyclists’, ‘no more cars’, etc.
The political parties became involved in an unproductive fight concerning
where to put the tramline; after a citizens’ referendum and a lively public
debate, the city council decided to initiate a public dialogue where citizens were
to be given the opportunity to put forward their visions, wishes and opinions
on how to develop the area before the ordinary planning process started.

Testing new ways of public participation

The Dialog Södra Älvstranden was carried out in a first phase during spring
2005. The process had two steps, followed by an evaluation of the input from

Figure 5.3 Södra Älvstranden traffic situation before the opening of the tunnel
Source: Stadsbyggnadskontoret, 2006
78    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

citizens and its transformation into a formal document – a planning programme –

to guide the subsequent detailed plans following the Planning and Building Act.
The evaluation document and the planning programme were presented in a
public exhibition for public consultation before political decision-making. By
early 2011, no detailed plan had yet been decided upon. Public interest had
cooled.
The expectations for the Dialog among many citizens were high. Others felt
that this was just paying lip service – the dialogue would not make any
difference. The goal for the dialogue was to find out what the area meant to the
citizens and what wishes and visions existed or could be developed for the
urban life in the area. This can be seen as building a new system of meaning for
Södra Älvstranden (Schön and Rhein, 1994). The commission to develop the
organization of the dialogue was given to NUAB in cooperation with Urban
Laboratory Göteborg (ULG) – a platform for cooperation between academia,
the city and different actors interested in the urban development of Gothenburg.
Politicians were asked to keep away from party politics until the voice of the
citizens had been heard in order to avoid political deadlocks.

Step 1: All citizens invited

The first step of the Dialog was to invite all citizens, and public interest was
great. The dialogue took place in two arenas: one in the City Museum, with
continuously updated exhibitions, seminars, lectures and debates; and one
being virtual on www.alvstaden.se, where people could send messages,
questions and proposals, and also download former plans, pictures and other
material. The museum also organized ‘city walk and talk tours’. The creativity
was great and more than 1000 written proposals were registered and catalogued
in the museum.
The first phase of the dialogue process was managed by a steering group
from different departments in the city administration, academia and non-
governmental organizations (NGOs). The group worked on a day-to-day basis
in order to be adaptable and to find ways of handling upcoming situations.
This part was a full-scale experiment and a continuous learning process for the
management, without any experiences of the same magnitude to draw on.
Already in this phase of the public dialogue it was possible to identify
differing perspectives within the steering group on what kind of process was
going on. One understanding was that it was a process to get as many
practically implementable ideas as possible for the future planning of the area.
Another was that this was a democratic experiment in generating the

Figure 5.4 Dialog Södra Älvstranden logotype

Source: Gothenbug City Museum
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    79

commitment and engagement of citizens in the future life of the city. The
differing opinions in the steering group were managed through compromises.
The number of proposals was overwhelming and the dialogue process was
taken into a second step to address the views of citizens. Here again different
views on the meaning of the dialogue became visible within the steering group.
One was to sort out and structure the citizens’ material according to physical
entities such as houses, park, quays, etc. Another was to try to interpret the
content of expressions such as ‘to feel like home in the area and not just as a
temporary visitor’.

Step 2: Invited teams for parallel urban studies

A way forward to handle and take care of all of these proposals was to invent
a second step in the Dialog: parallel urban analyses. Citizens and professionals
with varying professional and disciplinary backgrounds were invited to set up
mixed teams to analyse the proposals that had been produced so far and to
translate them into visions. Diverging opinions existed in the steering group:
one regarded the citizens in the teams as a reference resource to react to the
visions that were developed by the professionals, and another regarded the
citizens as equally good team members who could take part on their own merits
in developing visions – together with the professionals. A decision to pay the
teams was taken. Every team leader had a budget of 350,000 Swedish kroner
(approximately 3500 Euros) to pay professionals, and every citizen received
10,000 kroner for lost working hours. All money was taken from NUAB’s
budget.
A public invitation was sent out via newspapers and a local radio station.
Team leaders were invited to propose a team with varying professional
backgrounds and citizens were invited to become members of teams. The
ambition was to create the citizens’ teams so that they were not too biased in
relation to the age, gender, ethnic and professional background of the local
population. Every applicant had to give a short statement on why they wanted
to participate. The interest from both professionals and citizens was
overwhelming, and six teams with different profiles were chosen. The ambition
was to get teams formed with a mix of professional backgrounds even though
many architects and planners applied.
Six teams were formed. One group had the ambition to bring experiences
from the north-east immigrant-dense suburbs of Gothenburg. Another team
was made up of young people and children. The other teams had different
profiles and all teams had at least one architect. The teams were asked to
document the process and make logbooks for the sake of process evaluation.
There were great differences between the teams’ ways of working. One team
used role play. Another used a more philosophical approach and discussed
basic values for future urban life. The architectural firms worked with standard
methods for project development, where the normal client was replaced by a
team of citizens.
The outcome of the teams’ efforts during autumn 2005 was presented to the
general public in December 2005. The presentation was, to some extent,
problematic due to the format and the time allocated to each team for
80    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

presentation. The required format was very similar to that of an ordinary

architectural competition and each team had 15 minutes for their presentation,
without the possibility of discussions or questions. Several of the teams felt that
this was too little and that they wanted to hear reactions.

The evaluation process

Many team members would have liked to continue with the work, but the
municipal planning office and NUAB had to start an evaluation process and
the production of a planning programme, and the dialogue was closed.
The evaluators had no new instructions on how to continue with their work,
and concentrated their efforts on questions that could formally be dealt with in
the planning programme. The Dialog teams were eager to get reactions or
comments from the city representatives, but there was silence. The evaluation
work took much longer than expected. The silence became frustrating for some
of the team members.
A cleavage emerged between different understandings of what kind of
process the parallel urban analyses had been. One group felt that it was
comparable with ordinary parallel architectural commissions, in which team
members had been paid and their work was finished. Another group felt that
the outcome of the evaluation was part of the public dialogue. When the
evaluation document was presented, a debate started about what kind of
questions could be dealt with by a municipal planning office. The evaluators
pointed out that all technical aspects could be dealt with, but questions of a
political nature needed to be sorted out and dealt with in other contexts. So
what was considered to be political by the evaluators? This, for example, could
involve questions concerning subsidized affordable rented housing versus more
exclusive owner-occupied flats in a prime location. The politicians kept silent.
The evaluators delivered a ‘diluted’ planning programme for which, after
compulsory exhibition and opportunity for public debate, a political decision
was taken without any public debate – the public interest had cooled down.
Is Dialog Södra Älvstranden an example of a new deliberative and
collaborative way of planning or is it an extended planning process, including
commissioned work to citizens to deliver their views? The name Dialog gave
the impression that it was meant as a discussion about the future of the area

Figure 5.5 The visions provided by the architectural firms in the parallel commissions have not
much in common with the dreams of the citizens six years earlier
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    81

and its use. But there was never any other response from authorities than the
planning programme. An article in the local newspaper had the headline: ‘The
death of dialogue and democracy in 15 minutes’.
In May 2007, four architectural firms were invited to parallel commissions
to develop sketches for detailed plans for part of the Dialog Södra Älvstranden.
The firms presented their solutions in the autumn of 2007 (see Figure 5.5). The
evaluation of these proposals was presented in spring 2009. In late 2011, the
municipal planning office was still developing the ideas, and the first detailed
plan was expected to be exhibited in public during autumn that year. Will the
public interest be resurrected?

Långgatorna
In 2002, the Gothenburg Planning Office produced a new ‘programme for
detailed development plans’ (a planning tool placed between the comprehensive
and detailed levels in the Swedish planning legislation) for the 11 quarters of the
Långgatorna district, located next to the Järntorget square and public
transportation hub in the western inner city and near the Göta Älv River (see
Figure 5.1). Historically, the vicinity near the water was important in the way
that it created a vivid city life. This historical feature was called upon when it
was contemporarily performed (in planning documents, newspapers and
magazines, and at seminars and hearings) around the time of the planning
efforts discussed here. The programme, a format in which to formulate
overarching agendas for a city district, for instance, came about as a consequence
of a real-estate owner applying for a building permit at the planning office. The
available and legally valid document was a plan from 1948 against which the
application was to be judged, which poorly represented the current context of
the district, both in terms of physical appearance and content. In the latter sense,
this meant that the separation of functions suggested in the plan was still to be
pursued after more than 50 years. Långgatorna, however, is a district described
by many as particular, compared to other districts in the city; through multiple
actions of many different actors – again, media articles, public seminars,
writings in official document, maps, etc. – it is portrayed as ‘continental’,
‘exciting’ and ‘mixed’ (Latour, 2005). Around the turn of the 20th century,
function separation was anything but ideal; new planning ideas had made it
obsolete. Långgatorna was repeatedly discussed as a great prototype for the city
life so many city conversion professionals were hailing. It hosts a variety of
small-scale businesses: designers, retailers selling alternative records, books and
independent garment brands, alongside research collectives, club managements,
music studios, artists and antique dealers. This, and a high density of restaurants
and bars, gives the district a vibrant round-the-clock life. In some of the articles
produced during the planning process, Långgatorna was put forward as a ‘good
example’ of ‘the mixed-use city’ that planning authorities wanted to achieve.
The planners assigned to work with the programme were looking for ways
to deepen their knowledge of the district, and Joakim Forsemalm, one of the
chapter authors, had just begun a study with an interactive methodology in
focus, seeking to use a cooperative or interactive knowledge structure (cf
‘participatory research’, Whyte, 1991).1 The desire, shared by both the planners
and the researcher, was to create a mutual exchange of knowledge. A focus
82    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

Lagerhuset
Folkests hus

Järntorget Central Göteborg

Masthugget Haga

Figure 5.6 Långgatorna, Gothenburg (highlighted in black)

Source: Map by Oskar Götestam

group was conducted with real-estate owners, retailers, inhabitants and

representatives from the city district office. The group met on four occasions.
Set as a focus for discussion was the district’s particular ‘character’. What did
that really mean? In the efforts to get to grips with lofty and vague descriptions,
what was found were particular and site-specific networks, elements and
actions (Czarniawska, 2004; Latour, 2005). For instance, retailers in close
collaboration turned out to keep intact the district identity as ‘cool’ and
‘happening’: the independent trade and industry activity in Långgatorna was
filling empty retail space with more and more city life-producing content (skate
retailers, alternative music store with in-store gigs and parties, cafés owned and
run by friends of the other retailers, etc.). Eventually, all networking, using both
Facebook and flyers, ended up in an annual street party that celebrated the
uniqueness of the district. Another important element, which became apparent
through the focus group discussions, was that the fact that this was a ‘porn-
district’ (half of the city’s porn retailers and strip clubs are located here) kept
rents low, keeping the retail spaces affordable to small-scale and independent
businesses. The small-scale businesses’ dependence on cheap rents and the
cheap rents being a consequence of the porn shops in the district was a key
learning process. This was connected to a design discussion in which the
suggested pedestrianization of the main street became problematic. The porn
consumer’s need to park in front of the porn shops was threatened. A change
from asphalt to paving stones might create a possible negative domino effect
(see Forsemalm, 2007, for a more detailed discussion).
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    83

These were not the only important insights gained from this cooperation.
The varied heights in the district were another feature of importance. The
seemingly wasted economic potential in the unused building permits (one-
storey buildings in central locations despite the fact that building permits allow
up to four stories), as the focus group discussions made apparent, afforded
another quality. Sunbeams shining down between buildings were mentioned as
a particular quality corresponding with certain ideas about quality of life. For
one of the sessions, the participants had been asked to bring their own photos
of good and bad elements in the district. The discussion focused on a one-storey
wooden building on one of the four parallel streets in the district containing a
small shipyard, music studios and cheap plain apartments. This building’s
neighbour is a stone house from the beginning of the 20th century that had
recently been renovated. Also discussed was a similar building one street up, a
one-storey wooden house housing the district’s round-the-clock strip club:

Inhabitant: I guess the picture didn’t come out that well, but it’s this particular
light beaming down through the trees, when you stand on the street looking
straight ahead. The light comes from all possible directions because of the houses
being of such varied heights. Especially at night, too, a very particular light
phenomenon appears.

Real-estate owner in the district: Yet, there is a need for more housing [in the city
at large] and with such a place [the strip club…] I cannot see the end in itself with
such a business or such a building.

Planner: Perhaps not, perhaps not that particular building; but maybe you don’t
erect a building as high as its neighbours (five to six storeys), you know? I guess
that is to be studied in detail in the detailed development plan. I guess you suggest
some storeys, but not five or six.

Inhabitant: It’s interesting that this could be discussed at all, bearing in mind the
probable amount of pressure on this site in a few years – I mean, on the unused
building permits. But speaking of shape and form, this is a particularly exciting
cityscape, the higher and lower buildings in a mix, letting light in in a peculiar way
and whatnot. Yeah, but then, I don’t find it self-evident that this is a form and
structure for all eternity either.

The participatory model, in this case a focus group, contributed to a

strengthened and more nuanced comprehension, both of the physical
environment and of the life going on in different places in the district. With
these discussions, the characteristics that had been abstract to the planners were
made concrete and possible to express in a planning document – in this case, a
document that prescribed cautiousness, sensitivity and a preservation of not
only the physical, but also the cultural environment. One of the planners
summarized her views at the end of one of the focus group sessions:

Planner: We have begun to weigh up and discuss after the consultation period
[legally required procedure in the Swedish planning and building act] and are
84    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

picking up as much as we can from these meetings, too, to be added to the final
suggestions [i.e. the programme]. At the moment, it feels like we’re to suggest as
few alterations as possible, rather try to adapt new ideas to what is working fine
as it is today. Perhaps we ought to make a plan that controls a usage of the ground
floors for retail, to be able to maintain such a character. … Since there are many
calling attention to the fact that one of the characteristics of the district is the
varied house heights, that there are both higher and lower buildings here.

Figures 5.7a and 5.7b Retail (top and bottom) and low-density buildings (bottom) in
Långgatorna, Gothenburg
Source: Joakim Forsemalm
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    85

This preservation course laid out in the programme was less about
preserving particularly important houses and more about making sure that the
different important features of the district would withstand the growing city. It
meant that the planners and politicians had to think twice before saying yes to
suggestions (building permit applications) that would jeopardize a district that
everyone thought about as comprising a particular quality in Gothenburg – a
quality that, coincidently, would rhyme well with the planning discourse’s ideal
at the beginning of the 21st century (e.g. Jane Jacobs’s ideas of the mix between
old and new buildings, short blocks and the significance of a vivid sidewalk-life
for street safety; and Richard Florida’s ideas of the creative class as what ought
to be in focus for a city with ambitions).
In this case of cooperative learning, planners were given – and were
pleasantly welcoming of – an opportunity to penetrate particularities in this
planning assignment in a new way. This knowledge process made them sensitive
to the delicacies of the area’s character: Långgatorna is not like any other
district in Gothenburg, nor in Sweden at large. The assigned planners had
learning in focus and found an opportunity to develop their knowledge. This
was no isolated case: a couple of years later, once the programme was to be
broken down into detailed development plans for each of the district’s 11
quarters, the planners not only held on tightly to the direction set out in the
programme, but also again sought knowledge through cooperation – this time
with different academics and private parties (a property owner) able to supply
more in-depth knowledge about the previously known and, for the district
character, important relation between the activities at shop-floor level and the
vibrant and widely loved city life.
One can here claim that the popular ideas of Långgatorna, an area
historically characterized by a vibrant port and harbour life, were translated to
also become part of the planners’ agenda (Latour, 2005). The mental model of
the district’s features that was performed again and again in various contexts
constituted the foundation for how the organization worked in terms of
decisions for the future (cf Jenkins and Smith, 2001). The particular and
repeated mental model of the public became, to use a term from Charles
Goodwin, part of the vision, the image created by the professionals involved
(Goodwin, 1984). The learning process, the idea to listen more in-depth than
usual, was successful in the sense that the organization made operational a
mental model that highly stemmed from the public perception of the district.
To paraphrase Hall and Taylor (1996), in this case of conversion of a waterfront
area, there were many cognitive scripts performing what turned out to be a
normative frame of meaning for the organization to relate to, and depart from,
in its work.
In the next case to be discussed in this chapter, an equally strong
connection between mental model and the organization did not exist. Instead,
there was seemingly only the professional vision put out to do work for the
organization. The mental models produced had not been made operational
and the planning office sought new solutions to an old planning problem. We
move across the Göta River in Gothenburg to find a district not as favoured
as Långgatorna.
86    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

Östra Kvillebäcken
Östra Kvillebäcken is a former industrial district located centrally on Hisingen
Island in Gothenburg, closely connected to a large-scale shopping area
(Backaplan) and only seven minutes from Gothenburg city centre, but mentally
far away from it – on the ‘wrong side’ of the river (see Figure 5.1). For a long
time, the municipality had tried to achieve a change in the district, which was
becoming more and more plagued with crime as a result of poor maintenance
(in turn as a consequence of the municipality refusing to give the real-estate
owners anything other than short-term contracts on the land; cf Olshammar,
2002).
A Programme for Detailed Development Plan was established in 2003, but
this was not followed by any legislative detailed plans. When the National
Board of Housing, Building and Planning asked Gothenburg to join the
Waterfront Communities Project (WCP) in 2003, it was eventually this site that
was selected as a case study area. As waterfront conversion projects, both the
northern and the southern riversides would have been a more distinct case, not
least in a geographical sense. However, the northern riverside (Norra
Älvstranden) was too near completion and its southern counterpart (Södra
Älvstranden) had not yet, at the time of the municipality filing for its
participation in the WCP, undergone some necessary overarching discussions to
make it suitable as a case study area. Östra Kvillebäcken, thus something of an
emergency expedient and not exactly the waterfront, came up as a possibility.
The prerequisites for this district were quite different from those for Norra
Älvstranden, as well as Södra Älvstranden:

Planner: Here was a project where something needed to be done. There were
intentions in the area and investment interests, but they were piecemeal. How
could you get a unified grip on it? There had been a number of attempts
throughout the years to do something, but somehow the visions had been
constructed without anyone having the stamina to follow it through.

The 2003 Programme for Detailed Development Plan had formulated a

direction for the district in terms of a ‘mixed-use city’ focus. This was, to use
Jenkins and Smith’s analytical tools again, the mental model for the operational
organization of the local planning office (Jenkins and Smith, 2001). However,
interest from the developer and landowners was absent, and as time passed, a
bleak image was generated in the media, increasingly covering the criminalization
of the district (Ristilammi, 1994). Regeneration through implementation of an
overall municipality-created vision had been successfully conducted at Norra
Älvstranden. Could the experiences gained from that conversion process finally
be of use to (after years of work in the local planning office, leaving plans and
cooperation behind) make something of Östra Kvillebäcken, by now a severe
problem in the city due to rising criminal activities (Forsemalm, 2007)?
A WCP project team consisting of planners and ‘academic partners’ was put
together.2 Initially, quite a lot of time was spent discussing how the district
should be approached. The task that the planning office had committed itself
to – namely, the conducting of a visioning process – was not an easy one. The
project team worked through several knotty problems in order to get to the
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    87

Figure 5.8 Östra Kvillebäcken – Gothenburg’s ‘Gaza strip’ according to popular perception as
covered by local media

point where such a process could be sanctioned. Numerous meetings took place
within the project team, sometimes also in conjunction with so-called ‘local
partners’ (i.e. other municipal administrations concerned with this regeneration,
such as city district officials, traffic planners, property officials, etc.) and
sometimes with external experts. From the outset, the idea was to incorporate
the entire district (i.e. according to the demarcation indicated in the 2002
88    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

programme). At the end of 2004, an extended project team met to sort through
the ideas and possible obstacles for the visioning process that the municipality
had promised to carry out for the WCP. At the meeting, the project manager
outlined a background and motives as to why this district was again in focus.
The district was one of those highlighted in the existing Comprehensive Plan
(ÖP99) as suitable for development.3 All people attending had the opportunity
to respond to and reflect upon this task-framing.

Consultant, expert on dialogue processes and city history: It is important to really

get to know the character of the district, that’s number one. Second, it has to be
clear to each and everyone taking part in the dialogue what mandate they have in
these discussions… ‘Mixed-use city’ is a rather woolly expression nowadays. What
should be part of the mix? Is it a change in the already existing mix that is the
objective here?

Researcher, with extensive knowledge of the district: What room to manoeuvre is

there in the part or parts of the district we are to work with in the WCP? We need
to map the businesses in the district in order to understand what the existing
delicate prerequisites are. What kind of dwellings and how many do we need to
build to supplement the existing businesses?

Project manager: We’re not doing the same things today [as in the previous joint
venture project] since there are other kinds of expectations for development of the
area.

Academic partner: Haven’t many demarcations and prerequisites already been

decided upon? Aren’t there already lots of different visions?

City district representative: This district is interested in generating positive spinoff

effects for the problematic surrounding districts. One example is Kvillestaden [a
district south of Östra Kvillebäcken] and its surroundings, where criminality is an
enormous problem, as it is in Östra Kvillebäcken.

Project manager: There are expectations among both developers and property-
owners; but at the moment, nothing has been specified.

Planner 3, member of project team: There is by no means a ‘dead hand’ laid on

the district. The building permits that reach us at the office are validated against
the existing programme, and in the southern part there are actors improving their
facilities.

City district representative 2: You have to reach significant interested parties in the
area, the ones that own land and the properties.

Planner 2, member of project team: It is very much about anchoring this project
to the existing plans. To which financial accounts should the different commodities
be accredited? ‘Bohemian index’ is rewarding – and economically capable in
different ways. There is not one economic commodity, there are several.
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    89

Project manager: Sure, but where does the city benefit the most in the locating of
districts such as this? There are different cycles at work in the city concerning
where cheap premises should be located – the gentrification process.

Researcher: We need a proper analysis of the desires and wishes of the actors in
the district.

Project manager: There might be inconveniences in introducing a frame that

would be totally different from the existing expectations.

Planner 1, member of the project team: Does the city district have any particular
wishes?

City district representative 1: Our hope is that Norra Älvstranden will spill over
into Östra Kvillebäcken. We are working closely with the property-owner
associations in the district on these issues.

Planner 1, frustrated by the volatility of the discussion: What other concrete

interests are there?

City district representative 1: Well, the police go: ‘Level the district to the ground!’
Building dwellings is not an end in itself; the city district office objective is to
create a safer environment in the Lundby district as a whole.

After a short break the discussions continued within the project team itself. The
task facing the group – sorting through all the impressions, documents and
prerequisites available – seemed overwhelming. Was this really the right forum
for a visioning process and was the timing right? Was it at all possible to
conduct such a process within the timeframes of the European Union project?

Planner 1: We do have the right to change our minds, don’t we? What is it that
we really want? Maybe we don’t have time to conduct a visioning at all?

Academic partner: What is really governing this project? How strictly is it

regulated? Are there any clear demands in the WCP plan?

Project manager: Might the visioning process contribute to the planning process
by raising such questions?

Planner 3: Uh… replacement… the politicians, of course, have to be on board,

especially those on the Planning and Building Committee; otherwise it won’t be
possible to incorporate the knowledge-building process of the focus group.

Project manager: There is no real working team in place yet, and no definite
assignment from the Building Committee, at least not yet, although there are
expressed interests from contractors.
90    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

Planner 1: The only existing initiative, then, is about the need for housing? The
question, then, could be ‘who should live here’?

Project manager: To get this conversion going, a catalyst of some kind is needed.

The planning office, as revealed on several occasions during the WCP, was not
the only municipal office involved. It was the property office that the property
and landowners were primarily dealing with.4 Since the WCP working group
did not include any representative from that office (they were invited to the
meetings but did not turn up), there was a consequent and constant lack of
mandate and information in the project team discussions. The project group
tried to guess its way forward and started to perceive of itself as a spanner in
the works, holding development back rather that moving it forward. A
frustrated project work group tried and tried to get something done in the
WCP, but seemed to face obstacles wherever it turned. The anchoring work
continued, however (Czarniawska, 2000). The project manager and planner 1
met with the Planning Office Executive Group to try to sort things out and gain
both guidance and clearance. A new obstacle loomed on the horizon. The
Executive Group claimed that a ‘visioning process’ in this district at this point
in time was obsolete since a politically sanctioned vision, thus a ‘mental model’,
already existed in the outlined ‘mixed-use city’ objective in the 2002 programme.

Östra kvillebäcken
Ny
a
sw
ed
en
bo
rg
sg
at
an

Backaplan
Gam
la Tu
eväg
en

Kvillestan

Figure 5.9 Östra Kvilleäcken, Gothenburg: City centre to the lower right end along the dotted
line, representing the tram line
Source: Map by Oskar Götestam © Digressiv Produktion
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    91

The Executive Group told the project team that the EU project should instead
focus on a realization of this existing vision.
The project clock was ticking. The Gothenburg Planning Office had signed
a contract to supply the ‘best practice database’ with knowledge concerning the
chosen work package’s complex of problems. But as yet no knowledge was
being produced in the project that could serve as ‘best practice’ examples. The
planning prerequisite had slowly transgressed from a broad point of departure,
in terms of both geography and content, to a more narrowly demarcated task.
In the quest to harness part of this district to the WCP, the planning office
decided to focus on what it felt could act as a catalyst in this situation of
stagnation. In the northern part of Östra Kvillebäcken, the municipality owned
the land currently being used as a park and a cycle-lane. After having been
earmarked as future road reserves as early as 1941, this stretch was again
highlighted in the 2002 programme. The idea was to turn this stretch into a
road that would support the nearby shopping district of Backaplan and link the
northern parts of Hisingen Island to the city by creating an infrastructural
crossbar to the adjacent city district of Tuve. By relieving pressure on the
existing roads, noise and pollution levels could be sufficiently reduced to make
it interesting for both contractors and landowners to construct buildings in
which people would want to live.
The project work group thus initiated a focus group with the landowners and
property owners around the road reserve to discuss prerequisites for it to come
into existence. Several issues were discussed, the most important one concerned
with financing. Who should pay for the road? And when could this conversion
begin to take place? Again, there were uncertainties. No exact answers could be
given and key persons (i.e. professionals, mainly other municipal administrators)
who were able to answer some of the questions either failed to show up at the
meetings or were overlooked in invitations to participate. The project manager
claimed that there were many ways of perceiving how the cost should be divided
(between the city, the land/property owner and others); but when asked to be
more specific, answers were lofty. The land/property owners did their homework,
producing sketches of possible stretches and locations of roundabouts and bus
stops. This was a group of stakeholders who, although being mainly sceptical
towards the idea of a road coming into existence and thus affecting their
properties in different ways, wanted to cooperate and contribute. In the end, just
as in the other cooperation projects for this area, the efforts made failed to result
in any change, in any conversion of the district. Instead, the municipality returned
to the model used to convert the northern riverside (Norra Älvstranden) – a
model that gave power back to the municipality. In this way, the small-scale
landownership – which was discussed as problematic due to stakeholders not
wanting to follow the same path as the ‘professional vision’ – could be handled
through the municipal development company, buying up these landowners to get
a better negotiation position vis-à-vis the larger landowners – the ones who
turned out to be those to whom the municipality had to listen. A consensus
already existed around the previously decided ‘mixed-use city’ framework. This,
thus, left little room to actually cooperate around a vision: it was, rather, a matter
of transferring a vision to stakeholders and the interest in learning from these was
marginal.
92    joakim forsemalm and knut strömberg

Conclusions
As everyone involved in city planning knows, there are always uncertainties,
things happening along the way, which are not possible to foresee in the
beginning of a planning process. This chapter has examined three different
dialogues – cooperation projects within the same organization: the local
planning office. As discussed and empirically found, uncertainties are not only
a matter of things happening along the way being hard to predict. Uncertainties
are, as discussed in the first and third cases, produced as a consequence of an
undetermined knowledge-making structure. How should the city and its
officials engage with the knowledge that is to be produced in a dialogue
process? What measures must be taken in advance to ensure that the time spent
by participating actors amounts to something real and valuable?
In none of the three cases presented here were such issues addressed
beforehand. In the first case, the process was managed in a thorough way while
it was in the experimental forums Dialog Södra Älvstranden and Parallella
Stadsanalyser. The problems appeared when the new ways of working were to
be linked to the standard and legislative operating procedures and routines in
the municipal planning office and in NUAB. There was no preparedness for
addressing the ideas and contents from the broad visioning processes that, in
fact, had been asked for from the citizens and the teams. The content of the
proposals was scrutinized by the evaluation team in order to ‘cherry-pick’, and
was sorted into two groups. One comprised questions that fell into the area of
responsibility of the planning permission committee – questions concerning
what kind of buildings, floor area-to-ground ratio, etc. Other questions such as
subsidies for affordable housing or citizens’ representation on the board of
NUAB were classified as political questions which could not be dealt with in
the programming and planning process and were thus put aside; in reality, these
questions have not been followed up on. An official evaluation report for
the content of the visions (Stadsbyggnadskontoret, 2006) and another for the
process (Bialecka et al, 2006) were produced as background material for
the Programme for Detailed Development Plan, which was presented, exhibited
and open for public consultation, and then politically decided upon. However,
the interest for this part of the urban development process was minimal among
citizens and mass media. The handling of the initial stages by the planning
office had created a vast critique that, as of 2011, still existed.
Case 2, Långgatorna, might be said to be a more successful venture due to
the fact that the planners involved actually used the dialogue in a constructive
way: what was learned during the focus groups was of importance for what
was decided later. Here, a real interest for the different actors’ ideas was
evident, and in several ways. The planners sought to understand the particular
prerequisites for this district. This meant a way forward for the district in tune
with the public idea and perception of the district’s features and character. At
the time of writing this chapter, this knowledge is the foundation for decision-
making processes – for instance, negotiations with real-estate and/or landowners
having interests in altering the structure that had been discussed by so many as
worth preserving as much as possible.
 on dialogues and municipal learning in city-building    93

In the case of Östra Kvillebäcken, on the other hand, there were several
opportunities to learn from actors concerned and an ambition from the
planning office to listen and have a dialogue. There was an interest, too; a
particularly problematic district needed new input and the office sought
knowledge through several cooperative processes throughout the years. What
was learned and created in these processes in terms of knowledge did not,
however, become part of any way forward. Instead, the professional vision
constructed some years later put forward the ‘mixed-use city’ as an aim and
objective, and although there were great possibilities of realizing that vision by
keeping some of the existing buildings (and businesses), the programme from
2002 said nothing about such a way forward. Instead, everything was to be
torn down to make way for a completely new district. This clear agenda
became a problematic aspect in the WCP work in Gothenburg; there already
existed a ‘consensus’ in the sense of the established direction. This left the
project with no visioning space. If the planning office had had a better learning
platform, such an error – there were many actors engaged before the problem
with the already existing vision (‘mixed use’) was put on the table – might have
been avoided. This might have saved time, money and, above all, confidence.
The risk is that dialogue ventures become counterproductive as actors become
reluctant to take part in them if things are decided beforehand or if the
prerequisites are poorly researched, possibly creating obstacles along the way
that, as in the case of Östra Kvillebäcken, might jeopardize what might
otherwise be a fruitful, and mutual, learning process.
Recommendations for municipal dialogue processes based on experiences
from Gothenburg include the following:

• Establish clear instructions for what issues can be dealt with in the public
dialogue.
• Make clear from the beginning when the dialogue will start and finish.
• Make clear how the outcome of the dialogue will be linked to ordinary and
legislative planning procedures.
• Establish some kind of open municipal institution to address ideas, visions
and proposals from citizens.
• Establish a function within the municipality that can accumulate and
distribute experiences from dialogues to politicians and planning officials.

Notes
1� This was an ethnographic study of identity-making processes in city conversion projects.
Amongst other things, media debates, planning efforts and, above all, networking practices
between property owners and retailers were studied between 2002 and 2007 using interviews,
observations and text analyses, alongside focus group discussions.
2� The task of these partners was to ‘monitor’ the project and extract key learning points from
it. The intention was also to supply methods for ‘mutual learning’ processes: a central
objective in the project outline.
3� This is further emphasized, ten years later, in the proposal for a new municipal comprehensive
plan, ÖPXX.
4� The property office manages council-owned assets, foremost properties of different kinds.
6
Experiences in Participation in
the Port City of Hamburg
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

Introduction
Across many parts of the world, citizen participation in decision-making for
urban development has become increasingly established in law and in practice,
though often not going far enough, according to its critics. Waterfront
regeneration projects pose particular challenges due, among other things, to the
strategic importance that their development can often have for the city or the
region as a whole; the large stakeholders that often own land and other assets
in the affected areas (such as ports, railways, industry, etc.); and the variety of
scenarios in terms of resident population, ranging from the total or partial
absence of local residents, to resident port-related workforces who may feel
threatened and displaced by regeneration proposals.
Recent and on-going major waterfront regeneration projects in the City of
Hamburg provide a good illustration of such scenarios and challenges. Here the
highly successful HafenCity project close to the city centre encountered the
fairly common scenario of having practically no existing residents who may
play a part in shaping the development. The city government, who was the
major landowner, took the initial strategic decisions regarding the development
of this area with minimal consultation, and invested stringent authority in the
public development company that was tasked with regenerating the area. This
is seen as a way of securing benefits for the ‘public good’, through strong
controls on the design and management of developments that are approved.
A different scenario can be found on the south side of the Elbe, where
regeneration that started after the launch of HafenCity, and on an even larger
scale, is to encompass a variety of inhabited areas. As part of the city’s wider
‘Hamburg – The Growing City’ long-term development strategy, the ‘Leap
across the Elbe’ framework plan covers three very different harbour development
areas spanning north–south across the Elbe island Wilhelmsburg. Large parts
of the framework plan are derived from creative design proposals of expert and
citizen groups who participated in an international design workshop focused
on drafting urban design scenarios in 2003. The public dialogue established at
the workshop and through other on-going fora fed into the Convention for the
International Building Exhibition IBA 2013.
Hamburg also provides the setting for a new approach to dealing with the
long-term management and maintenance of privately regenerated areas in
96    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Germany, mainly through an adaptation of the Business Improvement District

Model, which gives an active role to local property owners. Experimentation is
also under way with transferring aspects of this model to the management of
residential neighbourhoods. These experiences may hold lessons for the
sustainable management of waterfront areas.
This chapter first provides a brief summary of some key theoretical
considerations which are relevant to the analysis of citizen participation in
planning and regeneration. It then describes and assesses these three experiences
in waterfront regeneration and urban management in Hamburg from the
perspective of civic engagement. The chapter highlights how different approaches
to participation emerge from different context-specific scenarios, as well as the
impact that the existing authoritative structures have upon the definition of
such approaches – with the strong legislative and economic powers invested in
the city-state of Hamburg, in this case, having been a key factor.

Public participation in the planning of waterfront

regeneration
Public participation in planning emerged initially as a demand and later as a
practice as part of the reaction to, and critique of, post-World War II top-down
rational planning. During the 1970s, it became embedded in the planning legislation
of countries around the North Sea (as well as elsewhere), where the existence of
democratic political systems provided the basis for the right to participation to be
acknowledged in relation to urban development processes. Forms of citizen
involvement in urban development had existed in the US since decades earlier, and
here the critique of these focused on the unequal access that different social groups
had to the existing mechanisms of participation. Much of the academic critical
writing of the time, underpinning approaches such as ‘advocacy planning’,
originated from the US. Arnstein’s (1969) classic text on participation analysed
citizen involvement in social urban programmes in that country from the perspective
of the redistribution of power. Application of her ‘ladder of participation’ showed
that, in most cases, participation was used to manipulate or inform the public
(bottom rungs of the ladder) rather than to give them the power to take decisions
and have control (top of the ladder) (see Smith, 2005, and Figure 6.1).
The implementation of public participation in urban planning during the
1970s and 1980s was criticized for becoming procedural, instrumental and
mostly not reaching the higher rungs of Arnstein’s ladder. In addition,
particularly in the Western and Westernized worlds, there was a shift from
community-centred participation to approaches which responded to
consumerism, which implicitly included a strong element of protection of
property owners’ rights (Smith, 2005). From the 1990s there was a conceptual
shift (mainly in academic discourse initially, and later in policy) from
participation to governance. The latter, which conceived of society as composed
of different types of ‘stakeholders’ with varying capacities and degrees of
involvement in urban development processes, provided a basis for the
development of ideas around participation based on ‘communicative rationality’1
and the practice of collaborative planning, which required dialogue between
the relevant stakeholders in appropriate arenas (Healey, 1996, 1997).
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    97

Ladder of citizen participation

8. Citizen Control Degrees of

7. Delegated Power >
citizen power
6. Partnership

5. Placation
Degrees of
4. Consultation >
tokenism
3. Informing

2. Therapy
> No power
1. Manipulation

INF
T ENTRUSTED OR
EN CONTROL
MINIMAL M
M COMMUNICATION
ER

AT
IO
W
PO

INDEPENDENT N
EM

LIMITED
CONTROL
INFORMATION

DELEGATED GOOD QUALITY

CONTROL INFORMATION

LIMITED LIMITED
DECENTRALISED CONSULTATION
DECISION MAKING

PARTNERSHIP CUSTOMER
PAR

CARE
TIC

N
IPA

EFFECTIVE
IO

IO GENUINE
T

AT

N ADVISORY
LT

BODY CONSULTATION U
NS
CO

Figure 6.1 Ladder of participation (top) and wheel of participation (bottom)

Source: Respectively drawn by the authors based on Arnstein (1969) and by Mike Roper based on
Davidson (1998)

In this context, alternatives to Arnstein’s ladder were developed, such as the

‘wheel of participation’ used by South Lanarkshire Council in Scotland. Rather
than setting out forms of participation on an ascending scale towards increasing
empowerment, the wheel of participation presents a ‘menu’ of choices that
encourage ‘the right participation techniques to achieve the identified objective’
(Davidson, 1998, p.14). This responded not only to an increased government
demand for community involvement and to the development of new techniques
for participation, but also to what was seen (at least in the UK) as a
98    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

disappointment with delays through participation processes, tokenism and

citizen apathy. The ‘wheel of participation’ was therefore specifically designed
to identify the level of community involvement that was appropriate to a given
scenario, without necessarily aiming to reach the top of Arnstein’s ladder.
However, approaches such as the ‘wheel of participation’ deliberately sideline
an issue that was central to Arnstein’s analysis – that of power. As Flyvbjerg (1988)
and Sandercock (1988) note, power is central to planning and urban development
processes, and the exercise of power affects the choice and design of participatory
approaches, as well as the way in which these play out. In fact, the very notion of
participation as a process that is ‘implemented’ (usually by government or by
developers) entails a preconception of the balance of power(s).
Waterfront regeneration can present a range of scenarios relevant to
participation in the process, with power always being a central determinant. It is
generally initiated by key organizations with a large ‘stake’ in the process, which
tend to be government (central or local) and port authorities, as well as other
major landowners when the land is in industrial use or similar. Often such
organizations then form partnerships and special delivery vehicles to undertake
the regeneration. These all are therefore the agencies that normally ‘implement’
(or commission the implementation of) participation processes. Such processes
may be influenced by the balance of power and agendas among the key initiating
stakeholders, as well as by other stakeholders affected. Such stakeholders may be
present in the location to be regenerated or in its vicinity. This may or may not
include a resident population, depending upon the use and historic pattern of
occupation of the area, with possible affected parties being the population who
worked in the port or industrial facilities, other residential provision and small
businesses, among others. If the regeneration is seen as having strategic
importance at a city or region level, then stakeholders may be defined on a wider
scale, including residents and businesses across the city or region.
The City of Hamburg has carried out, and is continuing to plan, extensive
regeneration along its waterfront and its hinterland. It provides a particularly
interesting example of different regeneration processes, responding to different
contextual scenarios and power dynamics between stakeholders, with
correspondingly different approaches to public participation in the process.

The City of Hamburg and its waterfront

The ‘Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg’ is a city-state resulting from the
amalgamation of former port cities and a variety of urban areas with different
characteristics across 50km of urbanization. It is the largest city in Germany
after Berlin, with a population of approximately 1,730,000 in the city, which
covers an area of 755 square kilometres, and approximately 4.3 million in its
metropolitan region. The city is home to a large migrant population. Located
around 80km from the North Sea, the city straddles the Rivers Elbe and Alster,
and includes several islands in the former – the largest of which is Wilhelmsburg.
The land north of the Elbe is higher, with that south of the Elbe being low lying
and prone to flooding, making it suitable for the development of dock facilities,
but also imposing constraints on other forms of development. The overall area
of Hamburg’s port contains high levels of immigrant population and a diversity
of physical features, including scenic waterfront locations.
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    99

Hamburg city-state is one of the 16 German federal states, which have a

degree of autonomy and legislative powers, the only other city-states being
Berlin and Bremen. Hamburg therefore has its own parliament and government
(the Senate), and therefore a high degree of independence in determining
economic and urban development policies. Urban development is guided by the
city’s Ministry for Urban Development and the Environment.
Hamburg port is the second largest and third busiest port in Europe, offering
modern equipment and efficient management. As a hanseatic city, port activities
have historically been the driver for the city’s development and have given
Hamburg’s politics a strongly maritime orientation (see Figure 6.2). The shift to
containerization and larger ships posed challenges to Hamburg as a port, given
its location far from the sea and the maintenance required in fluvial docks, such
as continual dredging, etc. The city’s strong reliance and focus on its port have
meant continuing investment in maintaining and improving its position in
maritime trade. Although, as in other port cities, other economic sectors – services
and media, in the case of Hamburg – grew in importance in both absolute and
relative terms, dock-related activity has remained central to the city’s economy.
Following the reunification of Germany at the beginning of the 1990s, Hamburg’s
strategic position as a gateway to former East Germany and other parts of
Eastern Europe brought about a boom in port activity, which has since been
sustained. Though the new requirements of containerized shipping have led, as
elsewhere, to former centrally located docklands becoming redundant, the
continuing strength of port activity and the support for this from local dominant
social groups influenced how the city went about initiating the regeneration of
such brownfield sites. On the other hand, the City of Hamburg has had a strong
position as landowner of the port area, which has been to its advantage in
steering the regeneration of parts of the port (Harms, 2003).
Waterfront regeneration started in Hamburg during the 1980s, with
promotion by the city of the so-called ‘String of Pearls’. This comprised a series

Figure 6.2 View of 19th-century

buildings in Speicherstadt, the
historic warehouse district
Source: Harry Smith
100    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

of sites along the north bank of the Elbe, west of the city centre, which were
developed in a market-led approach over a lengthy period of time and
significantly gentrified the area (Schubert, 2011). A more strategic approach
was taken from the mid 1990s onwards in the development of HafenCity
(‘harbour city’), a new urban quarter on the north bank of the Elbe that was
masterplanned as a major extension to the city centre. Here the city took a
more proactive and planned approach to converting former port areas into
‘city’. The successful implementation of HafenCity was followed in the mid
2000s by the proposal of the Leap across the Elbe initiative, within a regional
development perspective. The Leap across the Elbe development framework
covers, from north to south, HafenCity and Harburg Inner Port, with
Wilhelmsburg Island at its core. This framework is one of the five key projects
of the Metropolis Hamburg – Growing City strategy, initiated by the Senate of
Hamburg and pursuing the concept of ‘smart growth’. Leap across the Elbe has
important implications for the city as a whole. It departs from strategy that was
predominant during the 20th century where residential development was kept
to the high ground north of the Elbe, and port-related and industrial uses were
located in the lower marshland around, and south of, the Elbe; and it proposes
a new north–south urban development axis (Schubert, 2011).
The City of Hamburg has promoted and implemented different strategies
for citizen participation in both of these major waterfront regeneration
initiatives, but confronting different realities, from securing benefits for the
‘public good’ in HafenCity to creating experts and citizens groups to participate
in international design workshops in the Leap across the Elbe initiative. These
are explored, in turn, next.

HafenCity2
The 157ha of land developed as HafenCity are located close to the city centre
of Hamburg, separating it from the northern branch of the River Elbe. The area
was previously used by the port and contained port-related infrastructure but
had almost no permanent inhabitants. As elsewhere, the obsolescence of small-
scale harbour structures and the need for larger sites required due to the
development of container technology had led to the decline in port activity in
the area. Although surrounded by neglected housing estates, the wholesale
market, industry, port facilities and railway lines, the location had great
potential because of its proximity to the commercial centre of Hamburg. The
main objectives of the City of Hamburg for the development of HafenCity were
focused on the expansion of the city centre by around 40 per cent, aiming to
strengthen Hamburg’s competition with other major European cities (HafenCity
Hamburg, 2010). The overall aim of the city was to generate a dense, mixed-
use, economically and physically attractive extension of the inner city and
contribute to the positioning of Hamburg on the map internationally.
Interestingly, the redevelopment of the waterfront in HafenCity is connected
to increasing harbour activity in Hamburg and new opportunities that emerged
with investment in the function of the port. A newly developed container
terminal in Alternwerder, financed through income generated by the HafenCity
development, was located downriver, releasing land in the area for other uses.
In addition, as indicated above, the development of HafenCity is linked to
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    101

national strategic decisions related to the economic significance of Hamburg in

Germany and in Europe and the outcome of a German port growth policy. The
growing strength of port activity underpinned the continuing influence of port-
related social groups in the city’s decision-making, a factor that was affected by
the city authority’s approach to the regeneration of the area, as is seen below.
The original masterplan for HafenCity area was approved by Hamburg’s
Senate in 2000, but this proposal had taken almost ten years to develop. Initial
ideas for regeneration of the areas surrounding the port in the central part of
the city emerged during the 1990s, responding to the changing role of Hamburg
in the European context with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Iron Curtain.
In 1991, the city’s mayor unofficially commissioned a study into the inner-city
port fringes and its potential for transformation. Concentration of port
activities had built up south of the River Elbe, leaving centrally located sites on
the north banks of the river underused, as they were unsuitable for new
operations based on the use of containers (HafenCity Hamburg, 2010). This
initial stage in the regeneration process was treated with discretion due to
possible resistance from the port industry and possible speculation and rise of
land value, which would have made the project unviable.
Although the majority of the land belonged to the City of Hamburg, most
buildings in the area belonged to private business. During this initial stage the
buildings were acquired through a company wholly owned by the city and
formed in 1995: Gesellschaft für Hafen-und Standortentwicklung (GHS), since
2004 HafenCity Hamburg GmbH. The initial study on the regeneration of the
peripheries of the port was presented in 1996 by a Hamburg architect, Professor
Volkwin Marg, while the project was still confidential. The principles for
development presented in this study were adopted in the final masterplan, such
as the urban structure proposed and the principle of mixed uses (HafenCity
Hamburg, 2010). The project was introduced to the public in 1997 under the
title ‘Vision HafenCity’, proposing a plan for the city to regain its connection
with the waterfront. The areas affected initially were only narrow sections of
the 157ha that are now being developed.
With the objective of financing the HafenCity project and its infrastructure,
as well as a modern port facility at Altenwerder with a new container terminal,
a special fund was established by public law to hold ‘city and port assets’ public
land in the ownership of the City of Hamburg. The establishment of this fund
also contributed to providing political legitimation for the project through
removing the HafenCity area from the umbrella of the port without conflicting
with the port industry.
In April 1999, an urban planning ideas competition for HafenCity
masterplan was launched, and after a series of studies carried out by the
municipality and GHS, the winner was announced in October1999: a Dutch–
German team. The proposed masterplan was then approved by Hamburg
Senate in February 2000. Among the principles of this masterplan were a strong
interaction between buildings and the water, the elevation of buildings for flood
protection, the public character of a majority of ground-floor uses and the mix
of uses (see Figure 6.3). The masterplan also defined the development of new
neighbourhoods within HafenCity and the long-term realization of these
developments into the 2020s. HafenCity also aimed to be the leading example
for a new business, social, cultural, urban and economic image for the city in a
102    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Figure 6.3 Model of the

HafenCity project in the
HafenCity InfoCentre
Source: Harry Smith

21st-century European context. Some degree of flexibility was also embedded

within the masterplan, which aimed to be highly adaptable to unforeseeable
future changes. Implementation was to require an element of public subsidy.3
A development corporation was formed in 1998 to undertake the
development process.4 It is a quasi-autonomous non-governmental organization
(NGO) which is fully owned by the Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg. The
land was originally owned by the City of Hamburg and transferred to
HafenCity corporation. During the development, all land is sold and the
revenues are used for public investment such as sewerage, renovation of the
historic quays and design of public spaces (Zandbelt&vandenBerg, 2005).
While providing an opportunity for the expansion of the city centre, the
vision and the masterplan did not propose simply to add to its mainly office and
commercial facilities, but also to strengthen its residential function of the centre.
The plans for the area mostly offer both office and apartment buildings, including
combinations of office and houses in one block as well as work–live housing
units, resulting in homes for 12,000 inhabitants and scope for 45,000 jobs. Since
its initial masterplan, the aim was to provide a broad range of housing types and
to include a flagship cultural centre. These developments are being delivered in a
phased sequence of neighbourhoods with their own identity, spreading eastwards
and southwards from the city centre. Individual city blocks are developed
through competitions for land where the key factor is the quality of the proposal
rather than price, as this is usually fixed at the outset. Actual sale of the land to
the winning bidder is controlled through a process that ensures that conditions
are met, including the holding of architectural competitions for the buildings and
securing of building permits (see also Chapter 3).
HafenCity had almost no inhabitants, but development required citizens
from elsewhere in the city being informed on the area and the strategy was to
use different means of publicity, while creating opportunities for public
involvement. When the Senate approved the masterplan in 2000, this was then
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    103

presented to the public through a series of exhibitions and talks. That same
year an information centre was established in the former power station of the
historic warehouse district – the Kesselhaus – where a regular local public
discussion forum, the Dialog im Kesselhaus, is held on different aspects of
HafenCity development, such as arts and public spaces. The move of Katharinen
School from the old part of the city centre to HafenCity, planned to become a
centre for the new community with a comprehensive programme of uses, was
also among the strategies to encourage public participation. As part of a
research programme sponsored by the German Ministry of Education and
Research, a project was put in place aiming to study different patterns of work
and life. The project maps these patterns using a computer program that is able
to identify possible conflicts and interrelations with urban spaces.
A substantial part of the participatory initiatives are focused on informing
and raising awareness. The Viewpoint is an observation platform containing
information boards and introducing the entire HafenCity project. This
temporary structure is located at the end of the Kibbelsteg in western HafenCity,
with the aim of informing the public on the progression of the project and the
dynamic growth of a new district in the city. Regular cultural events and
temporary art installations are another instrument used to raise the profile of
the area. Examples include a charity run through the site, the visit of large
cruise ships, such as Queen Mary 2, and the opening of specific new
developments, such as the Magellan Terraces public space in 2005, for which a
two-day celebration was held (Waterfront Communities Project, 2007).
Design of public space has also been used as a tool contributing to the
participation and integration of the wider citizenry of Hamburg in the area. The
main open spaces in western HafenCity – Magellan Terraces, Sandtorpark open
space and Marco Polo Terraces – were designed by the Spanish architecture firm
EMBT and are an integral part of the overall open space planning in HafenCity.
These open spaces and parks redefine the borderline between the water and the
riverbank by using different levels; generate a sequence of overlapping land and
river spaces connecting the various green areas, with the water integrating
harbour elements; and integrate the work of local artists. Sandtorpark open space
was developed in 2010 and opened in 2011, by which time residents had moved
into the area, influencing aspects of its detailed design.
As buildings have been completed and occupied and a population has begun
to establish itself in the area, new forms of public involvement have developed,
focused on the smaller-scale issues directly affecting these new residents. For
example, the specific location of the old harbour cranes that were kept onsite
and restored through a heritage project was negotiated with the new residents
in the buildings that lined the affected docks (see Figure 6.4). A new play-
building provided as part of the first neighbourhood to be developed is now
managed by parents. An informal advisory board for the neighbourhood
(Quartiersbeirat) was established as a forum for debate, and owners and tenants
formed a joint association prompted by the development company. A dedicated
neighbourhood manager is employed by HafenCity Hamburg GmbH, who is
responsible for cooperation with, and the participation of, residents and other
stakeholders in the area. In addition, a person has been designated to supervise
open space on a daily basis (Wegewart), coming into contact with residents and
acting as a channel for their views (Kreutz, undated).5
104    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Figure 6.4 Dalmannkai, the second quarter to be completed in HafenCity, with floating
pontoons in the foreground and a historic crane
Source: Harry Smith

HafenCity Hamburg GmbH takes on a strong role as ‘guardian’ of the public

interest in the conditions that it places on new developments, ensuring that
certain standards of provision of public space are met. This has even involved
making privately owned space publicly accessible, such as the atrium in the new
Unilever HQ building for German-speaking countries, completed in 2009.
These strict conditions are possible because of the development company also
being the landowner.
During 2010, the masterplan was revised, with a focus on redefining
development of the eastern neighbourhoods. Public presentations and discussions
of the proposals were used to gather feedback. Following the consideration of
these inputs and further refining of the proposals, the masterplan was presented
for approval by the city Senate in 2011.
The experience in HafenCity shows an ascending scale in relation to
Arnstein’s ladder. This started with no direct power being given to the citizens
in the early stages, when the key strategic decisions regarding the development
of the area were being taken by the city authorities. Participation then rose to
mostly information, once the masterplan was approved and the development
was given the go-ahead by the Senate. Levels of consultation and, in some very
particular small-scale initiatives, forms of delegated power have emerged
around more detailed issues during implementation. Information and
consultation have also been used in the revision of the masterplan ten years
after its first approval. Against the ‘wheel of participation’, it is clear that the
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    105

City of Hamburg, which is in control of the regeneration, has chosen different

approaches according to the nature and scale of the decisions, ranging from
minimal communication in the early strategic stages, to various forms of
consultation later (and, again, some form of delegated control in relation to
more detailed management issues, such as, for example, the running of the play
park by parents).
This approach was very much a response to the political sensitivities at the
outset around the possibility of transferring traditionally port-related expanses
of land and water to the city, as well as to the minimal inhabitation of the area
at the time. A very different scenario was faced when developing the Leap
across the Elbe initiative.

Leap across the Elbe

At the centre of the Leap across the Elbe project, which aims to extend urban
development between the city centre of Hamburg and the old port of Harburg,
is the island of Wilhelmsburg. This low-lying area, which suffered devastating
flooding in 1962, consists of a patchwork of port-related, industrial, commercial,
infrastructural and residential uses, including large-scale post-war social housing.
Its approximately 50,000 residents include port and industry workers, and a
large proportion of migrants. It is seen as a ‘problem area’, with economic and
social decline brought about by the westwards move of port activity and the
failures of some of the 1960s social housing. In the official discourse it is also seen
as an area of opportunity for the development of ‘a versatile and living city’ due
to the physical, cultural and social contrasts to be found in the area, where
harbour, city, village and particular landscapes are juxtaposed (see Figure 6.5).
The challenges faced in the development of Wilhelmsburg are very different
than those surmounted by HafenCity. The latter’s location and infrastructural
connections made it a magnet for private investors in a way that Wilhelmsburg
would find hard to rival. In addition, the very success of HafenCity has drawn
potential private investment away from Wilhelmsburg. A study for the
European Investment Bank (EIB, 2009) concluded that the majority of measures
proposed in the Leap across the Elbe initiative (such as traffic infrastructure,
green space, public realm, social facilities, etc.) would have to rely on public
subsidy.
Leap across the Elbe proposed a range of interventions, including the
development of inner-city wasteland and the upgrading of public spaces, social
infrastructure and educational institutions, especially in deprived areas (EIB,
2009). The project objectives are to adopt investment-related measures with
reference to labour market and employment; create the infrastructure needed to
develop local economies; and increase the attractiveness of local district centres.
It is seen as an opportunity to develop a ‘model for sustained, forward-looking,
internal development’ (EIB, 2009) which would benefit the rest of Hamburg’s
inner city. The long-term perspective for the Leap across the Elbe initiative
spans a century of urban development and redevelopment, to be kick-started
by two key events in 2013: the International Building Exhibition (IBA) and the
International Garden Show (IGS).
106    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Figure 6.5 From the Marco Polo terraces in Western HafenCity, the port and industry of
Wilhelmsburg were visible in the distance before western HafenCity’s southernmost plots
were developed
Source: Harry Smith

International Building Exhibitions have been used in Germany as vehicles to

explore new forms of architecture and urban development since 1901. Successive
IBAs around the country have tended to be critical of previous experience in
building and urban development, and developed or showcased new models.
Thus, the first IBA in Darmstadt (1901) created an artists’ colony as a response
to mass housing and overcrowding; the Weißenhofsiedlung in Stuttgart (1927)
showcased Modern Movement architecture and housing; two consecutive IBAs
in Berlin (1957 and 1987) built models of city development, the first applying
the principles of the Modern Movement to buildings in an open urban structure,
the second criticizing this and proposing a new urbanism based on the city block
and contextualism, mostly based on Post-Modern design. The more recent IBAs
in the Ruhr (IBA Emscher Park, 1989), Niederlausitz (IBA Fürst-Pückler-Land,
1999) and the state of Saxony-Anhalt (IBA Stadtumbau, 2010) have tackled
regeneration of industrial and other landscapes, with a strong focus on
innovative economic renewal and environmental rehabilitation. IBAs have
tended to increase in scale, from the early colony and small district developments
to the latest federal state-wide approach in Saxony-Anhalt.
Germany has also developed a strong tradition in garden shows at various
levels (regional, national and international). The history of Hamburg’s
International Garden Shows goes back to 1869, and there have been six more
since. These have had an important impact upon the quality of open spaces in
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    107

the city and have contributed to Hamburg being known as the ‘Green City on
the Waterfront’.6
The IBA and IGS are not the only activities taken forward to implement the
Leap across the Elbe initiative. Complementing these, Wilhelmsburg is also the
location for the initial activities of other programmes with wider application
throughout other parts of the city, some of which have been running since the
1980s: City Renewal, Soziale Stadt and City Renovation West. Taken as a
whole, the composite vision across all of these initiatives is to integrate the Elbe
islands within the city structure, developing and restructuring these internally,
as well as better linking them to the city through new transport infrastructure
(e.g. a possible new bridge linking directly to HafenCity, and a planned
extension of the new Metro line from HafenCity to Wilhelmsburg/Harburg).
This vision includes the following aspects: quality development of inner-city
districts; integration of work places within urban development; forms of
housing suitable for families and mixed ages; water and green spaces,
architecture and aesthetics; and intelligent infrastructure (EIB, 2009).
Realization of the vision comprises a wide and ambitious range of projects,
including, for example, a new central public park creating a link between the
various districts of Wilhelmsburg and new international gardens; experimental
housing, including on the water and landscape-based forms; educational
facilities, including a new international school; new sports facilities as a basis
for a potential Olympic bid; waterway links, continuous waterfront promenades
and green bridges; land decontamination; and renewable energy production
(EIB, 2009).
The Leap across the Elbe initiative emphasizes the opening up and
developing of the old harbour, including areas dedicated to port activities and
Elbe Island. Therefore, the development strategy required addressing both port
development and urban planning, with individual implementation strategies for
a variety of sites. The approach has been to link ‘soft port activities’ with urban
environments (Zandbelt & vandenBerg, 2005). The framework also needed to
incorporate existing transport infrastructure and future transport projects.
Particular focus has been given to the implementation of participation
strategies, responding to the different characteristics of the sections within the
area, with, for example, Wilhelmsburg Island experiencing, in parts, social
difficulties with high levels of unemployment, poverty and crime. One of the
key areas for action in Leap across the Elbe is ‘Citizens for Hamburg’, which
aims to develop citizen participation processes.
These approaches to citizen participation include (Waterfront Communities
Project, 2007):

• Active involvement of citizens, authorities and different committees during

the development process. The purpose of this was to generate confidence,
political involvement and to implement the notion of self-help and self-
responsibility.
• Use of the already established Advisory Board for Urban Development
(Beirat für Stadtentwicklung), which includes representatives of both
formally constituted groups and institutions and informal, as well as ad hoc
groups from different neighbourhoods, and has been working since 1994.
108    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

• Setting up of an onsite office.

• Mechanisms for close cooperation among all levels of government involved
in the strategic development programme, including the Senate of
Hamburg.
• Organization of national and international conferences and workshops
with a variety of focus themes.

As part of participatory mechanisms, a series of regular meetings between the

local administration and stakeholders was held in order to identify relevant
problems and to address questions. These meetings included researchers,
practitioners and end users, allowing for continuous professional communication
and cooperation, and helping to build up trust-based relationships in order to
underpin the mutual translation of different logics and languages across actors
involved in the projects (Waterfront Communities Project, 2007).
In 2007, Hamburg’s Ministry of Urban Development and Environment
established a company to develop the IBA: IBA Hamburg GmbH. This
company, together with a sister company in charge of the International Garden
Show (IGS Hamburg 2013 GmbH) took on the management of the process.
These identify and develop projects, but have no planning authority, which still
resides with the City of Hamburg (Stock and Tummers, 2010). IBA Hamburg
established a permanent ‘participation council’ (Beteiligungsgremium),
composed of 24 citizens7 and 7 political representatives from the area, which
once a month holds meetings that are generally open to the public and is the
main channel for residents’ views. In addition, the two companies jointly
organized a series of large-scale forums for citizens (Dialogue with the Citizens),
which take place once or twice a year and involve interested citizens through
open invitation. IBA Hamburg’s public involvement programme also includes
bringing together residents with national and international experts through
special workshops focused on specific themes, which are referred to as
‘laboratories’. The IBA website reflects the importance attached to citizen
participation in this project: ‘No major decisions are to be made without the
support of the people living on the islands, nor against the will of those who
are personally affected by the plans, building work and events.’8
The establishment of the IBA was accompanied by the signing of a
convention, also in 2007, involving over 50 organizations (from both
government and market sectors) who became partners in supporting the
project. This ‘partnership’ then grew with the addition of further organizations
over time.
A mid-term assessment of the IBA suggested that it tried to enhance the lives
of local residents, including the large proportion of immigrants with their large
families, through both housing and education projects. However, it also noted
the problems raised by residents’ temporary disengagement from their local
community due to displacement during the construction of new housing, as
well as the lack of success in making local facilities available. In addition, some
of the changes in transport links require the relocation of federal motorways,
which have generated citizen opposition (Stock and Tummers, 2010).
Stock and Tummers’s (2010) assessment of participation in the IBA
Hamburg was that, though the complex context of Wilhelmsburg suggested
that strong participation and partnership with local stakeholders was needed
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    109

for a successful process, in practice citizen participation was institutionalized

and did not go beyond information and consultation (i.e. the middle rungs of
Arnstein’s ladder of participation). The approaches seen here appear to map
onto ‘good-quality information’ and two forms of consultation (‘limited’ and
‘genuine’) in the ‘wheel of participation’.

Business improvement districts and neighbourhood

improvement districts9
The Leap across the Elbe initiative forms part of a wider drive for regeneration
across the city, which is taking place within the context of Hamburg’s ‘Growing
City’ vision, approved by the city-state’s Senate in 2001. Some approaches to
such regeneration are increasingly responding to a wider conception of
governance that has developed during the first decade of the 21st century in
Germany. This is happening in the context of a policy of transformation of the
German welfare state, with increasing calls on private responsibility (e.g. with
regard to health insurance and pensions), public–private partnerships for the
delivery of infrastructure and urban development, and the sale and privatization
of public assets, such as social housing. This has been the background against
which public–private partnership models for urban management have been
adapted from elsewhere (primarily the US) and provided for in federal
legislation. Hamburg is among the pioneering states in developing state-level
legislation for, and implementing, German versions of business improvement
districts (BIDs) and neighbourhood improvement districts (NIDs) (Kreutz,
2009).
Hamburg’s BID law was the first to be passed by a state government in
Germany, in 2005. This established BIDs as time-limited partnerships between
real-estate owners in a designated area in order to procure services (such as
cleaning and maintenance, security and promotion) and to undertake capital
improvements in the public realm. Such partnerships are limited to five years,
are funded by a levy that is paid by all real-estate owners in the designated area,
and can only provide services and improvements which are over and above the
public ‘standard’. Declaration of a BID requires a proposal to be backed by at
least 15 per cent of proprietors (in number and in area), and approval of its
business plan through a ballot of all affected proprietors, with the BID being
designated by public statute if less than one third of proprietors reject it. For
the BID to continue beyond its five-year period, it must be renewed by another
ballot. The public sector is involved in the initial stages of setting up a BID; but
once it is approved (by the district council), its role is limited (e.g. to facilitating
the BID tax collection, by the Ministry of Finance, and subsequent BID
continuation ballots, again by the district council), while the BID is run by an
appointed management body or individual (Kreutz, 2009, 2011).
By the middle of 2011, six years after state legislation had allowed their
designation, 12 BIDs had been established in Hamburg, two of these having
entered their second term. These have all been in ‘attractive and more or less
prominent locations… with high property values and economically viable
properties’ (Kreutz, 2011, p13). The initial BIDs were widely dispersed across
the city; but those in preparation in 2011 were more concentrated in the city
110    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

centre and not far from HafenCity. One had been established in the old city
centre of Harburg, which is close to the south Elbe waterfront that will be
linked to Hamburg city centre via the Leap across the Elbe initiative.
Hamburg is also experimenting with adapting the principles of BIDs to
housing areas through the implementation of NIDs. This initiative has
responded to demands from the real estate and public and co-operative sectors
for development of models based on the BID experience, within a context of
housing stock transfer (from public to private ownership), which is leading to
loss of public influence on area-based development of residential areas (Kreutz,
2007). Hamburg Senate passed a law in late 2007 which allows what it calls
‘innovation neighbourhoods’ to be established, and the implementation of NID
schemes that are very similar to BIDs. The key difference is in the quorum
required to take a NID proposal forward, which is raised from the 15 per cent
applicable in BIDs to 30 per cent of property owners. Only property owners
have a right to vote – not tenants or other stakeholders.
When the legislation came into being, a pilot project had already been
initiated in the housing estate of Steilshoop. Built in 1969, this large estate, with
6380 housing units arranged in a scheme of medium- to high-rise large-scale
perimeter blocks with a shopping centre on its central axis, had already been
the focus of much public investment in regeneration during the late 1980s and
1990s; but problems persisted. Property ownership spans almost the entire
range of what is possible in Germany, with the largest owner being an
international stock-listed corporation, followed in size by council housing
owned by a community housing association, and then a range of housing co-
operatives, private housing companies and owner-occupiers (Kreutz, 2009).
HafenCity University’s observation of the pilot project showed differences in
the levels of participation of the various property owners in the process of
setting up the NID, with larger housing associations and co-operatives being
more involved, and the smaller landlords (owner-occupiers, private landlords
and smaller private housing companies) not initially engaging. It also noted
differences in the decision-making powers of public and private stakeholders,
which did not facilitate the process (Kreutz, 2009). One particular aspect that
shows commonality with experience in HafenCity is the approach to open
space management, with a person being designated in Steilshoop to take daily
responsibility for this on the ground (in this case called the Kümmerer) who is
the point of contact between owners and residents, on the one hand, and the
city’s sanitation department, on the other (Kreutz, 2010).
BIDs have generated mixed reactions among those who have analysed them.
In their favour it is argued that they provide improvements on the ground and,
in some cases, show economic performance having been increased, though this
is not always easy or possible to measure; and that they provide one possible
way of achieving new management and partnership structures, which are seen
as necessary to achieve urban regeneration (Findlay and Sparks, 2008). The
main concern is the extent to which BIDs constitute a privatization of public
space, and therefore a loss of democratic control over this and subsequent
impacts upon social cohesion and inclusion (Findlay and Sparks, 2008; Minton,
2009). In the case of the Hamburg experience, it is argued that some positive
indicators for BIDs, to date, are instances of improved performance and the fact
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    111

that BIDs are being rolled forward in second ballots. Regarding the loss of
accountability, it is argued that the public administration retains control over
urban development, therefore safeguarding democratic accountability (Kreutz,
2009).
As for NIDs, the Hamburg experience suggests that deprived neighbourhoods
are perhaps not the best suited to this kind of mechanism, as the limited
financial capacity of private owners requires considerable public support. But
the Steilshoop experience also shows that initiating a NID process has
contributed to better communication and coordination among stakeholders,
which has resulted in improvements in maintenance on the ground, without
additional funding required (Kreutz, 2009).
Although these experiences have not taken place directly at waterfront
locations or within waterfront regeneration areas, they hold potential for
implementing partnerships for regeneration and long-term management in the
different scenarios that can be found in places such as HafenCity or
Wilhelmsburg.
BIDs and NIDs would rank very low on Arnstein’s ladder if they were to be
analysed from the perspective of wider citizen participation, as residents and
even businesses are not directly involved at all. Their power as citizens appears
to be exercisable only in a very indirect way via the local authority. On the
‘wheel of participation’, they would appear to fall in the ‘information’ quadrant,
as information is readily available on all the BIDs in Hamburg. On the other
hand, if Arnstein’s ladder is applied only to the stakeholders who are directly
involved in BIDs (i.e. property owners), these are given a role that could be seen
as somewhere between having ‘delegated power’ or even ‘control’ (though not
‘citizen control’) – that is, at the top of the ladder. In the ‘wheel of participation’
they would be classified within the ‘empowerment’ quadrant. This again raises
questions over where power lies and how this is allocated through urban
development and regeneration mechanisms, and who should be included when
‘citizen participation’ is considered, given the multiple ‘roles’ that stakeholders
can have (e.g. as both property owners and residents).

Conclusions
These three experiences in city-building and city management in Hamburg are
examples of a range of approaches to participation, linked to different scenarios
with varying balances and types of power.
The development of HafenCity shows the key strategic decision-making
processes being initiated almost in secret by the city government in a (successful)
attempt to avoid the initiative running aground due to potential opposition
from port and port-related bodies, as well as possibly the wider population, and
the risk of increases in land value. The process has become increasingly
participatory at levels where the scale and strategic significance of decisions
became more limited. This approach was possible in great part because of the
land being mostly under City of Hamburg ownership and the virtual lack of
resident population in the area affected. Power, in this case, was concentrated
in the city and the port authorities, and the former manipulated the scope for
manoeuvre of the latter.
112    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

The existence of a resident population, with some history of protest, to

boot, painted a different scenario in Wilhelmsburg. The Leap across the Elbe
initiative could not be launched without wide engagement of the variety of
stakeholders affected. The range of decision-making bodies and the integration
of residents’ representatives within these are greater. However, the complex
institutional framework has been designed in a way that still retains key
decision-making power with the city authorities.
Finally, the BID schemes strengthen the power of property owners to
manage limited and clearly defined local areas, potentially side-lining the views
of other stakeholders who use such areas. The level to which power is delegated
here is arguable.
In all three experiences, the strong position of Hamburg’s government is
notable, making use of its legislative and financial powers, as well as of its
strategic leverage as landowner (particularly in HafenCity). Its room for
manoeuvre is strengthened by the booming economy of the city and the
continuing contribution to this from its port activities. It is therefore in a good
position both as an authoritative structure and as an allocative structure. Its
high level of power as an organization is accompanied by the continuing
strength of the mental model of the state as guarantee of the public good –
which underpins HafenCity Hamburg GmbH’s negotiations with developers on
behalf of the wider population, as well as the view that the local authority still
ensures democratic control over the public spaces that are included in BIDs.
It is an entrepreneurial state, however, reflecting the increasing power and
influence on market-based models. This is evidenced in the use of arms’ length
companies to implement the city’s plans for the regeneration of the waterfront
areas, as well as of private-sector (and public-sector) property owners to
manage and bankroll district improvements. What is perhaps less developed
overall, despite the ‘Citizens for Hamburg’ theme of participation in the Leap
across the Elbe initiative, is an approach to participation that extends citizen
control and management to higher levels of decision-making, beyond
representative democracy mechanisms.
A sign of this and the discontent that it can generate is the ‘Not in Our
Name’ manifesto produced by a group of artists, intellectuals and concerned
citizens against the city model being developed in Hamburg, particularly in the
waterfront areas, which through gentrification is said to be driving out the
‘creative class’. They call for the city as a community as opposed to seeing it as
a corporation and a brand (Desfor and Laidley, 2011; Novy and Colomb,
2011).10 The experiences of Hamburg raise hard questions regarding whose
priorities should (and actually do) guide and influence such ambitious projects
as HafenCity and Leap across the Elbe, within the context of current shifts in
governance environments, balances of power and mental models of the city.

Notes
1 See Flyvbjerg (1988) for a good discussion of Habermas’s concept of communicative
rationality.
2 This section draws on Carley and Garcia Ferrari (2007) and www.hafencity.com/en/
overview/hafencity-the-genesis-of-an-idea.html, as well as on information collected
during visits to HafenCity by the authors in 2008 and 2010.
 experiences in participation in the port city of hamburg    113

3 At least 774 million Euros in public subsidies are calculated for the HafenCity
development (August 2009) (see Krüger, 2009).
4 Initially called GHS (Gesellschaft für Hafen-und Standortentwicklung mbH), this
later became HafenCity Hamburg GmbH.
5 See also www.hafencity.com/en/management/communication-and-dialog-in-hafencity.
html (accessed 18 July 2011).
6 Interview with the managing director of IGS Hamburg 2013 GmbH, available at
www.igs-hamburg.de/134.0.html?&L=1 (accessed 14 July 2011).
7 These have to be resident or working in the district.
8 See www.iba-hamburg.de/en/02_gemeinsam/3_beteiligung/beteiligung_gremium.php
(accessed 12 July 2011).
9 This section draws on the research on urban improvement districts undertaken by
HafenCity University Hamburg. More information on this research is available at
www.urban-improvement-districts.de/?q=English.
10 See http://arafiqui.wordpress.com/2009/11/26/not-in-our-name-hamburg-artists-speak-
out-against-a-segregated-city/ and www.signandsight.com/features/1961.html (both
accessed 18 July 2011).
7
Harbourscape Aalborg
Design-Based Methods in
Waterfront Development
Hans Kiib

Introduction
How can city planners and developers gain knowledge and develop new
sustainable concepts for waterfront developments? The waterfront is far too
often threatened by new privatization, lack of public access and bad architecture.
And at a time when low growth rates and crises in the building industry are
leaving great parts of the harbour as urban voids, planners are in search of new
tools for bridging the time gap until new projects can become a reality.
This chapter presents the development of waterfront regeneration concepts that
resulted from design-based workshops – Harbourscape Aalborg in 2005 and
Performative Architecture Workshop in 2008 – and evaluates the method and the
thinking behind this. The design workshops provide different design-based
development methods that can be tested, with the purpose of developing new
concepts for the relationship between the city and its harbour, as well as generating
easily grasped images of a coherent harbour transformation (Kiib, 2007).
The lessons learned in the course of these workshops in Aalborg indicate
that comparable methodological achievements require a consistent line in the
professional approach of team leaders. Design-based development can make an
independent contribution to the visioning process on urban development, city
life planning and landscaping; but this has to be based on a ‘non-dogmatic’
approach in architectural and urban space design. This involves, amongst other
aspects, the combination of independent evaluation and discourse analyses in
the regeneration of the harbour area, and a combination of methods and
approaches used in order to achieve quality design and ownership from citizens,
as well as commitment from professionals.

Waterfront challenges
The intensive battle for the control of waterfront redevelopment is taking place
in many major cities and towns (Marshall, 2001; Dovey, 2005). In a manner
similar to the industrial conquest of the harbour 100 years ago and its subsequent
116    hans kiib

transformation into a closed industrial zone separated from the rest of the city,
exclusive offices and residential buildings of cities are now well on their way to
causing a new privatization of large parts of the harbour’s surplus landscapes.
In all big coastal cities, as well as in smaller towns, the harbour is a
grandiose meeting of the town and the sea, representing an interesting interface
between local life and the big world. The waterfront could be a common gift
for all citizens, a gateway for hopes for a better life and a meeting place between
‘tradition’ and ‘the new’. The waterfront could be a fantastic interface between
nature and the manmade world. Some political forces call for strategies that can
prevent this privatization, and produce a series of public domains along the
waterfront, including a great variety in its future use, meeting places for all and,
finally, room for architectural experiments and arts.
But this is far from the strategies which predominate in current waterfront
development (Bruttomesso, 1993; Marshall, 2001; Carlberg and Christensen,
2005). An intensive battle for the private control of waterfront redevelopment
is taking place between stakeholders. Exclusive offices and residential buildings
of the city are now well on their way to causing a new privatization of large
parts of the harbour’s surplus landscapes. A counterpart to the residential and
office projects of developers’ strategies is to be found in a balanced combination
of different strategies for land use that ensure the particular status of the
harbour as a port and as a public domain (Marling and Kiib, 2007).

Waterfront redevelopment strategies in Aalborg

This development also takes place in smaller towns such as Aalborg, where the
area of waterfront regeneration covers more than 200ha of former industrial
sites on both sides of the fjord (see Figure 7.1). Three big agendas and conflicts
have been in focus here:

Figure 7.1 The twin city Aalborg

Source: photo-collage by Jens Rex, in Harbourscape 2007
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    117

1� Public domains: the privatizing of the quays or development of the

waterfront as a new public domain along the fjord.
2� New crossings: should new crossings of the fjord be based on a new
motorway or on smaller city-integrated bridges?
3� Breeding grounds for creative forces: the conflict between short-term
development based on top-down strategies and a long-term regeneration
approach based on bottom-up strategies and temporary use.

In 1999, the Fjord Catalogue, which provided the overall guidelines for the
relationship between city and harbour along both sides of the fjord, was
approved (Aalborg Kommune, 1999). The regeneration of the old industrial
areas on the waterfronts on both banks of the fjord focused on modern urban
housing and business areas.
The experience gained from the initial transformation of a central part of
the waterfront from industry to a ‘private zone’ of mixed residential and
office area gave cause for concern. The area bears the paradoxical street
name, since the beginning of the 20th century, Ved Stranden (‘By the Beach’);
but the buildings are tall and dense, and, in spite of vocal and forceful
criticism from local citizens, the block structure excludes public functions.
The building projects here can be described as project-initiated development
with fragmented programming and a frail architectural vision. Finally, the
projects were not linked within a distinct urban space policy or an inclusive
preservation policy. One might speak of a boomerang effect as these buildings
brush aside the bustle and atmosphere that make up the attraction of the
harbour. This public criticism and evaluation were the basis for the demand
for a more comprehensive planning strategy, which could focus on developing
public domains along the quays (Aalborg Kommune, 2004; Marling and
Kiib, 2007).
Another big conflict has been related to the crossing of the fjord.
Aalborg is a twin city along the Limfjord, with the main part of the city on
the south bank and the district of Nørresundby on the north bank, where
for more than 30 years there has been debate on the connection between the
two sides of the fjord (Jensen and Hovgensen, 2004; Kiib, 2004), including
on the nature of the next crossing. Should it be based on high-speed car
transport or should it be related to sustainable transport by bus, trains and
bicycles? This has been a major conflict between two agendas with
respective proposed solutions: on the one hand, a crossing as a new
motorway solution promoted by modernist planners and car lovers, and, on
the other, several city-integrated bridge connections promoted by
environmentalists.
Finally, there has been strong public resistance towards ‘developer-driven’
demolition of the old industrial buildings – a ‘tabula rasa strategy’ – preparing
the harbour area for new expensive developments for residential and office use.
Most of the waterfront was owned by the municipality or by the public harbour
company; but the land has gradually been sold out to private developers and a
lot of the industrial buildings have been demolished, leaving the waterfront as
vacant land for years. The impact of this strategy has been that a rich heritage
of industrial buildings and warehouses has disappeared. Furthermore, a lot of
118    hans kiib

cheap built space, which could serve as a haven for creative forces, small
upcoming companies and education, was removed.
In the wake of these highly criticized projects and policies, the City of
Aalborg brought the harbour into focus again by asking for a more
comprehensive strategy for regeneration. During the years following 2000, a
reinterpretation of themes and strategies was put forward in the public debate
(Aalborg Kommune, 2005). These included, amongst others:

• How can the harbour be developed from a privatized industrial zone into
a public domain for the citizens?
• How can the harbour develop its own unique position in the city – not as
a divide, but as ‘a connecting element’ between the twin cities of Aalborg
and Nørresundby?
• How can the harbour contribute to the everyday life of different sections of
the population, including artists and new business?
• How can harbour activities be continued?
• How can the industrial heritage contribute to design quality in private
projects as well as in the public realm?
• How can the public realm be extended along the banks and quays, and how
can it be a bridging element between different programmes along the fjord?

Harbourscape workshops: Design-based methodologies

From 2004, the City of Aalborg and Aalborg University joined the European
Union-funded InterReg IIIB Waterfront Communities Project (WCP), including

Figure 7.2 Photo-collage from the Harbourscape Workshop 2005

Source: photo-collage by Jens Rex, in Harbourscape 2007
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    119

eight other cities around the North Sea (Carley and Garcia Ferrari, 2007). Each
city experimented with new ways of tackling a particular challenge of
waterfront development, and at joint meetings and through thematic research
new learning was gained and communicated. Based on experiences from these
cities, it was agreed that a series of design-based workshops should be organized
by the university, focusing on the topics raised above.
In 2005, the Harbourscape Workshop, Aalborg event took place as three
workshops and a conference at Aalborg University, with the participation of 45
architects, engineers and planners from Denmark, Norway, The Netherlands
and the UK (Kiib, 2007). The aims were to develop visionary concepts and
design proposals emphasizing the development and regeneration of the
waterfront in Aalborg; to investigate a full-scale dialogue on concepts and
architectural quality in the waterfront development among stakeholders in this
process; and to illustrate how different design-based methods can serve as tools
in the process.
The event was repeated in 2008 with the Performative Architecture
Workshop. Some of the same questions were put on the agenda and three
different workshops worked hard on new concepts for waterfront development
and improvement of city life using design-based methodologies.
The design-based workshops were inspired by the Hamburg ‘Bauforum’,
which in many ways has served as the learning ground for design-based
development strategies in urban transformations (Freien und Hansestadt
Hamburg, 2003). Other inspirational examples hailed from Oslo and
Copenhagen. The so-called Oslo-Charrette took place in 2004 – developing
various design strategies for transforming the border zone between city and
fjord (Fjordbykontoret, 2004). Oslo City Council assembled three design and
planning teams to work with three different scenarios: Oslo Large, Oslo Park
and Oslo Network. Each scenario gave an overall assessment of the possibilities
for expanding the city’s harbour area. Three sub-areas had been chosen in
advance. Experience from Hamburg and Oslo demonstrated that architectural
workshops have great potential in developing new concepts in urban design.
The workshops in Aalborg were organized using the following
components:

1� a one-day mini seminar with open lectures by internationally acknowledged

researchers and architects who theoretically and empirically illuminated the
subject by way of international examples and the results of their own
research;
2� a five-day workshop led by three teams of excellent architects;
3� an exhibition of the results, including interviews and public TV;
4� a one-day public hearing with participants from the local community
(presentations were held highlighting the results of the workshop –
intermediate results and finished products – and a panel of politicians and
local representatives within building and planning answered questions
regarding the future expansion of the harbour and the quality of
construction); and
5� an academic conference evaluating the methodology used and presentations
from research on waterfront developments.
120    hans kiib

Themes as a starting point for concept development

On the basis of international research and learning from successful waterfront
developments in the North Sea region, the organizers of Harbourscape Aalborg
2005 presented central themes summarizing the challenges that face the twin-
city waterfront development. They were to serve as the starting point for the
one-day mini seminar with lectures and discussions.
Multifunctional programming. Complex programming has the advantage of
allowing space for programmes that assign priority to activities, such as existing
industrial and artisan areas, and harbour-related cultural landscapes and event
spaces, but also spaces for working and living. There must be room for
functions that make a positive contribution to the new economy of the
experience industry. Finally, by reserving some areas for temporary activities,
this type of programming can benefit life at and around the harbour, thus
keeping the harbour area open for future initiatives and ensuring that different
lifestyle groups have reasons to use the area.
Movements and connections. This theme involved the overall physical
design of the urban harbour, including connections and movement along the
waterfronts and across the fjord, and how to build in a manner that avoids
turning the fjord into an obstacle, but instead establishes it as a large connecting
urban space in the core of the twin city.
Ten public domains. This comprised the physical design of locations and
harbour spaces, passages along the quay progressing coherently with the
harbour promenade, the bridges and surplus landscapes. The theme marked
an attempt to find means of ascertaining the diversity of open as well as
closed urban spaces and landscape spaces that could be established along
the fjord.
In the Performative Architecture Workshop in 2008, the organizers focused
on two further themes.
The city as a learning lab. This theme would combine a rich and experimental
urban context with an informal learning environment and education. Creative
and artistic education could be provided, together with music halls, theatres,
art galleries, cafés and art workshops in order to minimize the distance between
learning and artistic performance, and to ensure the production and consumption
of different kinds of experiences. You could talk about the city as a campus – a
hybrid structure of layered programmes, interactive spaces and transparent
architecture.
Urban catalysts and temporary use. This theme was looking for small and
large urban interventions, surprising use of existing buildings and the addition
of temporary architecture in the transformation of urban design. Urban
catalysts could be ‘event-scapes’, exhibitions or artistic performance, which
could show new ways of going forward. The focus was on temporary and
permanent architecture and art that perform as urban catalysts in abandoned
urban fields. How could temporary use of abandoned urban fields involve, in
particular, students, artists and cultural workers? And how could you transform
former waterfront areas and industrial buildings into vibrant urban environments
for cultural development?
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    121

Concepts and designs

In the five-day long professional workshop on concept development, each of
the teams, comprising team leaders and 15 architects and planners, could
choose what to focus on. The chapter now focuses on three of the teams,
selected from both events, which presented unique conceptual
developments:1

• The Gehl Team (Gehl Architects, 2005 workshop) focused on public space
development, employing a unique methodology labelled ‘city life
development’.
• The BIG Team (Bjarke Ingels Group, 2005 workshop) focused on how to
work with hybrid concepts in the development of new crossings. This team
employed a pragmatic methodology with a firm grip of the development of
hybrid architectural concepts.
• The Urban Catalyst Team (Studio UC and Raumlabor Berlin, 2008
workshop) employed a participatory methodology looking at the liminal
zone at the harbour and focusing on a procedural planning strategy for
temporal use and concrete interventions in the area.

Each of the three team leaders was responsible for a unique methodological
approach to the work, the outcome was to be oriented towards strategies and
concepts, and new urban proposals had to be quickly designed and implemented
in sketches, physical models and direct interventions on the ground.

The Spine: The Gehl Team, 2005

The Spine concept developed by the Gehl Team presented activities which were
intended to transform the harbour into a pleasant place teeming with activity.
In all its simplicity, the method reversed the traditional focus on architecture,
approaching first, urban life, second, urban space and, finally, the edge and
buildings (Gehl and Gemzøe, 2000). In general, the buildings along the harbour
were not treated as building volumes, but as edges and frames for public space.
Thus, the focus was first and foremost on the spaces between the buildings, the
transparency between the interior and the exterior at the ground level, and the
function and activity of a given building rather than its form. This method had
three steps (see Figure 7.3):

1� The activities at the harbour were programmed and spread out in a manner
that highlighted the distinctive character of a given area. The circadian
rhythm of the harbour and the change of the seasons were rendered visible
and highlighted.
2� The dimensions and character of the various spaces were modelled in
accordance with urban life conditions. The harbour space was defined
across the water in order to combine land and water in a synchronized
spatial experience and orientation.
3� Finally, the edge was represented on two scales. The harbour was not
defined in terms of the quay, but rather by the façades that mark the edge
122    hans kiib

Figure 7.3 The ‘reverse-thinking’ model: Life–space–edge–buildings

Source: The Gehl Team, in Harbourscape 2007

of the city. At the local scale, in a context of urban spatiality, the edge was
defined as three-dimensional surfaces that animate the urban space and
imbue it with life. Thus, the circle was closed. The edge provided space for
life and called for contact between inside and outside, between the public
and the private spheres.

The ‘Spine’ metaphor (see Figure 7.4) provided a new overall design concept
allowing an experience of the twin cities (Aalborg and Nørresundby) not as two
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    123

Figure 7.4 The ‘Spine’ concept for the ‘Fjord City’

Source: The Gehl Team, in Harbourscape 2007

separate cities with a body of water in between, but as a unified urban

landscape, where the water is the core connecting part of the city, and the two
waterfronts are the ‘edges of the big blue plaza’ in ‘the Fjord City’, providing
this city with its historical identity and pride. At a smaller scale, this workshop
developed a range of new and interesting waterfront space concepts, taking the
historical context into account and preserving some of its present spatial
qualities (see Figure 7.5).

‘Reverse-thinking’
The Spine concept was based on ‘reverse-thinking’ as a way of generating
concepts on space development. The Gehl Team argued that every city and
every developer wants life and a high density of people, which often results
in even greater density. But the contemporary architectural answer to
greater density is frequently bigger volumes and much larger spaces,
resulting in a lack of human-scale environment and, thus, inevitably in a
lack of people and life. This is a bad downwards spiral. ‘Nothing happens
because nothing happens as nothing happens…’ (Kiib, 2007). It was almost
possible to talk about ‘a modern paradox’ in urban development, and the
circle had to be broken through a renewed focus on the architectural
planning and design process.
Being very critical towards traditional city planning and towards the strong
focus on form and volumes in architectural practice, the team suggested an
‘upside-down’ approach to planning. When developing a successful city area,
whether a new or existing city area, life needed to be in focus from the
beginning of the design process. By turning the traditional methodology upside
down, people and city users could become more visible in the planning process.
Figure 7.5 ‘ ‘The blue square’ in the middle of the twin city
Source: The Gehl Team, in Harbourscape 2007
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    125

People, life and vitality were to be the biggest attractions in the city. It was
argued that planning and design would start with people, and the quality of the
urban environment had to respond to the biological preconditions of humans.
There are certain conditions that can be found to be true for everyone regardless
of cultural background.
Humans are ‘a walking animal’, and we move around at a speed of 5km
per hour, they argued. This made the detailing of the urban environment at
eye level very important. The public realm needed to respond to walking
speed, the experiences and the need for stimuli of people and not, for
example, cars moving at speeds of at least 60km per hour. People would seek
shelter when needed, sun when it is cold and vice versa. People would prefer
to sit on the edge of a space or a bench rather than in the middle. People
would talk to each other at a social distance of 1.5m to 3m, etc. With
reference to the methodology developed by Professor Jan Gehl, the concept
was developed applying a lot of universal factors to be incorporated within
the design, to ensure and invite social interaction between people (Gehl and
Gemzøe, 2000):

However, we cannot DESIGN or CREATE life, but it is possible to create the

environment which invites human activities! The learning is that we have to take
urban life as a starting point – not the buildings. Secondly we have to consider
how we can improve city life and to densify it in a series of spaces. The third step
is framing the spaces by designing the edges, the floor of the spaces and public
space interior. The buildings give life, character and identity to a place. When
looking at a space one should never separate the analysis of the floor from its
edges. The activities, entrances and functions of the lower floors of a building are
particularly important at the scale of pedestrians and people. At the end of the line
in this methodology we find architecture.

Gehl Team in Kiib, 2007

Bridging Aalborg: The BIG Team, 2005

The concept from the BIG team took as its starting point the physical and
mental connection of the twin cities with bridges as architectural projects. Four
new prototypes of hybrid bridges were proposed to jointly connect the two
sides of the harbour, thereby laying the foundation for a new perception of the
harbour as the common space of the city (see Figure 7.6). Specifically, an
elevated bridge to the east, the Residential Viaduct, was remarkable as a new
and innovative design. It consisted of a number of residential towers with an
urban park and low-speed traffic and pedestrians on top, and a parking deck
below the urban park and above the housing towers. It contained a total of
1000 residences and 1000 parking spaces.
The effect of all these new bridges was to brand Aalborg as a ‘City of
Bridges’ and all the bridges were to be financed through double-programming.
The Residential Viaduct, for example, was to be financed through the residential
project.
126    hans kiib

Figure 7.6 Four new

prototypes of hybrid bridges
Source: The BIG Team, in
Harbourscape 2007

The proposed 1.5km long residential bridge would connect Aalborg and
Nørresundby by way of a vacant industrial area to the north (see Figure 7.7). Of
the four projects, this was possibly the one best suited to create quality for public
and city alike, at no cost for the city. The idea was to utilize private willingness
to invest and exploit the historically high value of building residential developments
in order to create something extraordinary for the public. Primarily, it was a
permanent traffic connection, which Aalborg sorely needs. Second, it linked two
historical areas that contain a vast potential. If they were gradually developed into
two different cultural parks, each with its own specificities and identity, they
would comprise two fantastic poles for the bridge to connect.
The residential units would be located in the piers, and on top of them would
be a parking deck. The bridge could then be crossed by cars and pedestrians and
there would be access to the parking zone below the decks, from where the flats
could be accessed by elevator. Here, people would be able to sit on their terraces
and enjoy the view of the industrial areas, the fjord landscape or the city. People
could watch the ships glide in between the piers. This bridge could become a
landmark for cruise liners on their way to Norway, and thus attract thousands
of tourists to Aalborg. Depending upon the size of the bridge, such a construction
could contain up to 1000 residential units. This is a feasible amount since a lot
of housing is currently being planned in Aalborg. By moving approximately 700
units from the waterfront on the Aalborg side and 300 from the Stigsborg area
to the bridge, the project would become realistic within just a few years. The
project would primarily be funded through private investments, but in a
constructive symbiosis with the public authorities.

Focus on paradoxes
The BIG Team argued that there is a paradox built into waterfront development
in a Danish context – between too much open space and too little need for new
development:
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    127

(a)

(b)

Figure 7.7 The Residential Bridge

Source: The BIG Team, in Harbourscape 2007

The problem is, perhaps, the lack of pressure on urban development in towns like
Aalborg – leaving the central industrial areas under developed. One could term it
a ‘surplus landscape’. Aalborg has a larger harbour area than Copenhagen – very
much so if we compare the size of the cities. This could easily lead to a very low
density due to the lack of pressure on the building market.

BIG Team in Kiib, 2007

Instead of low-density development, this team’s proposals would lead to a

concentration of the construction work on a few new spots and connections
across the fjord, leaving the larger areas for recreational purposes, parks and
spaces for alternative applications. Old industrial buildings have proved to be
extremely well suited to cultural applications, galleries and temporary functions
such as summer restaurants, concert halls and other types of events, etc. In this
type of culture, budgets are typically low, and by leaving a large part of the
existing wealth of buildings un-restored and, consequently, cheap and accessible,
128    hans kiib

a sort of cultural magnet could be created, which could help to rebrand the City
of Aalborg.
If there was a vast amount of these types of abandoned areas available, this
could contribute to giving the city a new image as an alternative cultural city,
rather like Berlin, where there is also a large surplus of buildings and
environments that can be exploited in European cultural life – precisely because
of its accessibility. At the waterfront in Aalborg a similar vast potential is also
to be found because the city still has so much of the old mass of industrial
buildings, and the option of ensuring that some of it remains unplanned exists
(Andersson and Kiib, 2007).
In this way, the surplus landscapes could contribute to the definition of a
cultural scene (Pine and Gilmore, 1999; Landry, 2000):

Coming to Aalborg and discovering the large industrial ‘dinosaurs’ at the harbour
is quite an extraordinary Blade Runner kind of experience in its own right.
Consequently, developers’ plans to demolish the large industrial buildings in the
central part of the harbour are a bad idea since many other building sites exist,
and it would mean a removal without replacement of one of the few real
attractions of the harbour.

BIG Team in Kiib, 2007 (see Figure 7.8)

In the course of the workshop, the BIG team developed an urban type that can
add a lot of square metres without destroying the existing magic of the harbour,
especially in the areas of industrial culture that remain. They perceived this as
a successful part of the workshop.

Astonishing wealth of urban volumes and typologies

The team focused on the astonishing wealth of urban volumes and typologies, a vast
variation in scales in the form of, for example, giant silos next to weird cranes:

It is a fantastic catalogue of typologies, which might actually be suited to the

contemporary city-dweller precisely because of this typological wealth. The block
city does have a lot of different qualities, but it has also become somewhat
restrictive for our way of conceptualizing the city.

BIG Team in Kiib, 2007

The BIG workshop pursued a paradox in the way in which our harbours have
been constructed until now. One part of this paradox was that the inner cities
consist almost exclusively of one typology of urban structures and buildings:
the five-storey block. This block, however, was housing a multiplicity of
programmes – residences, nursery schools, businesses, etc. ‘We are dealing with
a physically and spatially very homogenous city with a multitude of
programmes.’ The other part of the paradox was that the harbour, on the other
hand, contained many complex typologies, which nevertheless encompassed
only one type of programme: industry. Thus, there was a paradox in the sense
that the number of typologies was not related to the number of programmes.
(a)

(b)

(c)

Figure 7.8 Current plans to demolish the large industrial buildings in the central part of the
harbour are a bad idea
Source: The BIG Team, in Harbourscape 2007
130    hans kiib

The inner city was multi-programmatic but mono-typological, whereas the

harbour was mono-functional but multi-typological. So, instead of simply
adding to the familiar urban block structure, the team viewed the harbour as
an exploratorium for new urban typologies (see Figure 7.9):

In fact, the harbour’s catalogue of interesting and unpredictable buildings simply

consists of industrial warehouses that fulfil some very specific demands under
certain very specific circumstances. If, through analysis, we are able to uncover
some equally specific needs under specific circumstances, the potential for creating
new and unpredictable urban typologies might exist.

BIG Team in Kiib, 2007

Hybrid concepts link the architectural heritage with new

typologies
The proposed Residential Bridge was quite an innovation, and it attracted a
great deal of attention at the presentation, partly due to the scale and design,
and partly due to its residential content and its importance in terms of traffic.
The hybrid bridge was a metaphor for the pragmatic way of thinking in urban

Havn

boats container parks warehouses power stations

silos truck parks marinas ferry terminals

oil containers waste water facilities sand piles cranes

waste lands klondyke junkyards road infrastructures

Figure 7.9 The industrial waterfront – a mono-functional structure but with an astonishing
wealth of typologies
Source: The BIG Team, in Harbourscape 2007
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    131

design (Chung et al, 2001; Andersson and Kiib, 2007). ‘Hybrid economy’ and
‘hybrid space’ can be understood as linking ‘a traditional economy’ to a new
‘experience economy’, and merging ‘traditional private urban spaces’ with ‘new
types of public domains’. This coupling is the point of departure for the mental
shift from an industrial mind set towards a new pragmatic philosophy in the
development of our cities based on knowledge and culture. The term ‘hybrid
urban domain’ breaks down the traditional division between public and private
and seeks to choreograph the city as the space of experience, which serves both
as a framework for traditional functions, while simultaneously taking on new
roles, new meanings and new narratives:

The bridge could constitute a futuristic landmark for the city and, to a certain
extent, enter into a good dialogue with the industrial landscape to the south in
terms of scale. Also, its romantic form creates a good contrast to the raw aesthetics
of the practical on-shore works and surplus areas. Thus the project would also
have a strong branding effect.

BIG Team in Kiib, 2007

Aalborg Catalyst: The UC/Raumlabor Team, 2008

The Aalborg Catalyst Team employed a participatory methodology in the
liminal zone at the harbour, focusing on a procedural planning strategy for
temporal use and concrete interventions in the area (Bader et al, 2009). This
team focused on the size of the current urban voids (see Figure 7.10). So far, the
municipality has focused on building up two big cultural institutions at the
central waterfront – the Music House and Nordkraft – which combine multiple
cultural, sports and entertainment players in one complex. This strategy is
meant to create a dynamic impact for further development in the leftover
eastern harbour. But the economic crisis has stopped the development of further
office and housing projects.
As an effect of an on-going transformation process and the economic crisis,
the city contains numerous areas of former industrial use. As more and more
of these areas become derelict, urban voids evolve. A deep divide can be
identified between the central part of the waterfront – programmatically diverse
and well developed – as a fairly stable condition and the east undergoing severe
structural transformation. The size of the current urban voids in the eastern
part of the waterfront on both sides of the fjord now exceeds that of the whole
city centre of Aalborg. With further economic recession and economic crises
coming, more voids are to be expected. The way of dealing with these urban
areas is crucial for the development of Aalborg in the coming 30 years.

A masterplan for temporary use

The starting point for development of a ‘masterplan for temporary use’
involved a paradox: there exist numerous plans for new developments in
derelict industrial areas, but no demand for all the surfaces. The approach was
based on a double strategy: on the one hand, a plea for a dynamic planning
132    hans kiib

Figure 7.10 Urban voids larger than the whole city centre of Aalborg
Source: Urban Catalyst/Raumlabor Berlin, in Architecture and Stages in the Experience City, 2009

and, on the other, to adjust the development to current needs and to discover
such needs and make them visible, finding new actors and turning them into
developers:

The central question was: when exactly was the masterplan set and who was in
charge of which spaces. Until now, the existing instruments of planning were not
just thought for an immediate appropriation of the space, but also for securing
permanent structures. They had to be supplemented by new control tools, which
on one hand could make handling unfinished or transitory situations easier and
on the other hand diminish the users’ chances to actively participate.

Bader et al, 2009

The ‘masterplan for temporal use’ (see Figure 7.11) exploited the potential of
the time gap between the present situation as a functional void towards a more
permanent use. Instead of demolishing former industrial warehouses and grain
Figure 7.11 Masterplan for temporary use: the diagram exploits the potential of the time gap between the present situation as a functional void towards a more
permanent use
Source: Urban Catalyst/Raumlabor Berlin, in Architecture and Stages in the Experience City, 2009
134    hans kiib

silos, it suggested their reuse by new agents (e.g. artists, galleries, performers
and small upcoming firms, but also young people with new ideas in relation to
sport, leisure and play). It was called ‘pioneer use’ (e.g. for culture, temporary
housing, art, entrepreneurship and gardening).
A range of ‘soft tools’ was to be employed in the process, including the
creation of a steering committee, setting up small agencies for distribution of
space, space sharing, and establishment of a micro-loan system for the
pioneers. Gradually, over a time span of 20 years or so, it would be possible
to develop commercial projects in the area, and new building projects could
emerge. Some of the worst buildings could be demolished and new buildings
then erected.

Process planning
As suggested in the presentation of the workshop results, the following aspects
seem to be essential steps in a dynamic planning process, as suggested by the
Aalborg Catalyst Team (Bader et al, 2009):

1� Identify waiting spaces, time gaps and potential activist networks.

2� Make a strategic plan prioritizing focal areas for different temporary-use
typologies.
3� Open up time gap spaces for spontaneous use.
4� Initiate public life at non-public place.
5� Reuse existing spatial structures.
6� Allow direct implementation.
7� Get key agents involved in supporting informal networks and strategic
coalitions.
8� Make as many actors as possible become part of the process.
9� Create a negotiation platform to combine formal and informal development
strategies.
10� Follow flexible strategies: allow temporary activities to become permanent,
as well as closing them down if necessary.

Stimulation of planning. Dynamic planning, unlike traditional planning, aims

at a gradual densification of activities, programmes and networks, which also
become ‘constructural’. Factors contributing to this could be consolidation of
use, achieving a critical mass of actors, a change of location or altered basic
economic parameters. It is important to identify milestones of development and
to react in an appropriate way – for example, to change the form of organization
and to invest in structural projects or new partners. The moment and the type
of development cannot be previously determined. However, planning can help
to design spatial, programmatic and economic scenarios. It therefore formulates
a basis for making decisions.
Share control. To gradually densify concepts of utilization without limiting
them by planning is, without doubt, for many actors linked with the distribution
of control for available space, design and programmes. The loss of ‘solitary
development’ that is assumed in this approach can also become a reduction of
risk and a win–win situation for every person involved. Which role the principle
 harbourscape aalborg: design-based methods in waterfront development    135

of the divided control plays in a project depends upon the proportions of

properties and the constellations of actors. The possibility of participation is
beneficial (e.g. when the public sector provides an area to a group at low
tenancy, or when the marketing conditions of an area are so bad that the owner
is glad about any person who uses the area). The optimum situation would be
when the user becomes an owner and an administrator – for example, by
temporary finance via private investors. Development of projects with private
owners is rarely given into the hands of users.
Sampling. It is necessary to enlarge the areas of action in city planning, to
connect short-term as well as long-term planning, and to combine hard and
soft tools in planning strategies. Calls for projects on pioneer uses, cultural
activity in public spaces, the manipulation of accessibility, reprogramming of
existing structures or the networking of actors are a complement to a number
of facilities: local public infrastructures, open spaces and structural activities.
There are several possible role models, which act as spiders in a web: they
initiate projects, develop available spaces, build networks of actors and
coordinate the development of areas. Or they act as service provider with
specific planning tasks for the users, local authorities or owners. In other
cases, they act as mediators between the involved parties through new
proposals.
Acting. The duration, often very long, which is negotiated in the planning
process renders the proposed object abstract and, for many, inaccessible.
Despite his or her training, even the planner is in danger of losing the reference
of the object in the working process. Through the construction of scale 1:1
objects, we could escape this danger. At the same time, it is important not only
to negotiate the right subject but to independently act on the spot.

Conclusions
The graphics and models from the teams showed an impressive range of new
designs that could represent a ‘goldmine of advanced concepts and ideas’ for
future developments. The results of the five days of work were impressive, and
the three methods proposed strategies and designs that could serve as a good
foundation for further planning and debate in relation to the harbour as a
public domain.
All teams worked with strong methodologies based on ‘reverse-thinking’
and a ‘paradox approach’ in the development of strategic concepts, where new
hybrid urban spaces and new architectural prototypes are revealed. Many of
the ideas and concepts have subsequently been discussed and implemented in
the planning process at the municipality.
One key element to emerge was that planning policies and administrative
procedures should have much more focus on the following points:

• There should be much more awareness of problems that have to do with

privatization of harbour areas where a large number of housing stock and
office space are located.
• Mixed use along the waterfront is essential in order to avoid privatization
from housing and office programmes.
136    hans kiib

• Design quality in the public domain should have a special focus, using the
methodology from the Gehl Team.
• Industrial heritage should not only be viewed as a question of preservation
or not; rather, the scale and the typologies from waterfront industries form
a fantastic catalogue of interesting typologies that are useful for new
developments as well (the BIG Team).
• Temporal use and weak planning in areas suitable for artists, craftsmen,
smaller industry and leisure activities, for example, are very much to be
taken in by municipalities and developers because the pressure for new
developments is limited and these areas can work as breathing zones for
talented people and smaller businesses.

Furthermore, the three workshops provided detailed methodological

knowledge of design-based development and how this could supplement
traditional planning approaches. By promoting different set-ups, a variety of
context-related designs emerged; in terms of approaches, the strengths as
well as the weaknesses could be compared. However, comparable
methodological achievements require a consistent line in the professional
approach of the team leaders. The teams must be composed of people with
different competences who are willing to work together and where strong
leadership guides the professional focus. Design-based development can
make an independent contribution to the visioning process and new
sustainable discourses can be developed; but this has to be based on ‘reverse-
thinking’ and a ‘non-dogmatic’ approach in the architectural development of
prototypes and urban space design. This involves, among other aspects, the
combination of:

• independent evaluation and discourse analyses in the regeneration of the

harbour;
• strategic planning related to the waterfront development, combining this
with an architectural policy, urban space policy, lighting policy and parking
policy;
• independent forums of professionals, architectural workshops and
competitions; and
• not one single method, but a combination of methods and approaches to
be used in order to achieve quality design and ownership from citizens, as
well as commitment from professionals.

Note
1� The Gehl Team was led by Gehl Architects, Copenhagen, www.gehlarchitects.dk; the BIG
Team was led by Bjarke Ingels Group, Copenhagen, www.big.dk; and the Urban Catalyst
team was led by Studio UC and Raumlabor Berlin, www.raumlabor-berlin.de.
8
How Visions of a Living City
Come Alive
The Case of Odense, Denmark
Solvejg Beyer Reigstad

You are sitting on a comfortable bench in the sun, enjoying the weather and
looking over the sea and at the children playing in the square. It is windy today,
but here you have found a peaceful oasis in which to sit and have a break. You
wave at your friends and decide that you can stay another ten minutes longer
before you have to go – this is the good life.
Doesn’t it sound nice? This is a description of what most people appreciate
in public space: to have nice places in the city, where we can enjoy having a
break, to look at or meet other people and where we can enjoy the weather and
a nice view. Because this defines quality of life and well-being to most people,
it seems strange that city planning often does not include planning of
comfortable and attractive public spaces. But in Odense, Denmark, public
space has from the start been a part of the planning of the new city area along
the harbour front, and more and more cities are bringing the design and layout
of the public space to the forefront in the planning process.
This chapter presents cases from Scandinavian cities where this has been
achieved, with a focus on Odense harbour front, as well as tools that can
support planners in creating living cities.

Visions of a living city by the waterfront

The challenge in waterfront development is particularly to manage visions of a
living new city area and large-scale buildings, existing physical structures and
infrastructural barriers, and often a bad image due to heavy industrial activities.
All of these factors need to be addressed to ensure that people will be attracted
to new urban areas at former industrial sites by the harbour front. Odense
Waterfront is a best practice example of how this can be done.
Odense is Denmark’s third largest city and is situated in the middle of
Denmark, at the centre of the main island, Funen (Fyn). All transport on land
between eastern and western Denmark passes through Odense. Odense has no
coastline directly on the seafront but is situated at the end of a canal.
138    solvejg beyer reigstad

The history of Odense harbour as an infrastructural node for trade in the

area is short compared to other harbour cities (Harnow, 2004). Until 1700, the
harbour was only accessible by small ships – bigger ships had to anchor at
the mouth of the stream, sending in goods to the city on small carts and horse
wagons. In 1803, the stream was converted into a canal and from then on trade
in Odense increased and the harbour grew in size and activity level.
Industrialization was a turning point for the use of the harbour. Big industry
was located at the harbour front, with easy access to shipping and close
connections to the railway which had been laid out between the harbour and
the city – now a barrier for traffic between the harbour and the city centre. In
1918, the big Lindø shipyard (Odense Steel Shipyard Group) acquired land and
subsequently provided work to many people in the district for years to come.
During the 1960s, the shipyard moved north along the canal – closer to the
open sea – and other industries took over the location at the inner harbour.
During the 1980s, the industry started to move out of the area because the
big modern ships could not sail into the harbour; instead, they located north of
Odense by the shipyard. Meanwhile, the municipality, as in many other cities,
discovered the high potential and qualities of being a city by the water.
Because the harbour had been closed to public access for many years due to
heavy industry, the success of opening the harbour to its citizens depended
upon good communication. Citizens had to be made aware that Odense is a
city with an attractive and accessible harbour front, with many recreational and
cultural qualities. Odense Municipality therefore started the harbour
transformation project in close dialogue with the major landowners, citizens
and other stakeholders in order to ensure that the functions and activities of the
harbour were attractive to future users and residents in the area.
In 2002, Odense Municipality held a harbour-forum for landowners,
planners, citizens, users and other stakeholders. The workshop resulted in the
formulation of 13 consensus points for the development of the harbour. These
points were then processed and integrated within the ‘transformation plan’ and
municipal plan. During this process, a vision for the new harbour area was also
defined in order to guide planning and any associated transformation: Odense
wanted to have a sustainable and living harbour area with mixed use as a
vibrant part of the city (Odense Municipality, 2006).
The vision for the new harbour area set out guidelines on what functions are
needed – both overall and within each block and building – in order to ensure that
the harbour becomes a varied, living and attractive city area of high quality. Aspects
such as seasonal activities, open ground-floor façades and functions, integration of
history, good design, definition of user groups and the use of the water surface are
just some examples of the variety of topics which the guidelines addressed. The
discussion of what user groups were wanted and what role the new area should
have in relation to the older parts of the city resulted in a guideline stating that the
original industrial structure and identity create possibilities for many user groups,
but especially creative people, companies and start-ups, who will be attracted to the
original industrial fabric, both temporarily and permanently.
The vision was ratified by the politicians and was published and distributed
to citizens, users and other stakeholders. Thus, the vision is expected to serve as
a documentation and background for future negotiations and decisions – the
politicians can be held to their promises by the citizens and other stakeholders.
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    139

The planning process of transforming Odense harbour into a new city area
involved many themes, projects, municipal departments and stakeholders. Due
to its participation in the Waterfront Communities Project (WCP), Odense was
able to develop and test new working and planning methods during the
implementation of the harbour transformation project. Because of Odense’s
focus on creating a living city by the harbour, the Centre for Public Space
Research–Realdania Research was chosen as an academic partner in the WCP
in order to provide knowledge and data from many years of research in public
space and public life.
‘Bridging activities in harbour regeneration – linking the harbour and the
city centre’, was the overall theme for Odense’s participation in the WCP. This
focused on:

• breaking down barriers – connecting infrastructure: squares, bridges,

pathways and streets;
• heritage – communicating the history: tours, homepage, a book and mobile
phone information spots;
• temporary activities – events, communication: to open the harbour mentally
for its citizens;
• industry and business – a task force to bridge the meeting between
remaining industrial activity and new residential areas and city life;
• harbour forum – a bridge between stakeholders: dialogue, consensus and a
shared vision.

Trying out new methods in planning the harbour’s transformation provided the
planners with new knowledge, and the municipality developed a Management
of Transitions Model, which sums up the thesis and lessons from the bridging
activities (Waterfront Communities Project, 2007, p.142). The project of
transforming the harbour front is very diverse and includes many themes and
methods. This chapter focuses only on how public space and temporary
activities can be used as methods to initiate the development of new city
areas.

The method of planning life before buildings

Odense Municipality tested two new and innovative planning methods in the
harbour project:

• planning city life before buildings, using process instead of static plans;
• planning events and temporary activities to introduce a new city area to its
stakeholders.

In the vision for the harbour, the municipality stated that the harbour will be
used actively and be a living part of the city in the future. The methodological
approach to developing the harbour therefore took as its starting point planning
for city life instead of buildings and focusing on handling the process of change,
inspired by the method developed by Jan Gehl at the Centre for Public Space
Research–Realdania Research and Gehl Architects.1
140    solvejg beyer reigstad

This method inverts the usual planning process by following the steps listed
below:

1� Define what city life is wanted in the new harbour area, including a
definition of what users need to be invited, in order to ensure that type of
city life.
2� Define what public spaces, elements and functions will support the desired
type of city life and attract future users.
3� Finally, and only as the last step, the buildings can be planned and designed,
creating the definition of space and supporting the planned city life and
functions.

At Odense harbour, the starting point was the definition of the common
vision around the living harbour for all citizens. Public spaces, streets,
public promenades along the harbour front and a big harbour square were
then laid out to welcome the further development of the area. Infrastructural
projects that will link the harbour to the city centre, especially via a bridge
over the railway tracks for pedestrians and bikes, were a part of the planning
of the harbour development, with a longer-term view regarding
implementation.
By the end of the WCP, the Harbour Square was not yet defined by the
presence of buildings or supported by nearby functions; it was a vast concrete
surface in a large-scale area which still had some industrial activity (see Figure
8.1). It might appear backwards to construct a large square when the users and

Figure 8.1 Overview of Harbour Square, Odense

Source: Solvejg Reigstad
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    141

functions to support the area’s activities and life are not yet present; but the
square has been successful from day one. The square is laid out on the roof of
an underground car park for 210 cars and is part of the parking strategy for
the whole area.
The Harbour Square is the biggest public space in Odense (6000 square
metres) and offers many possibilities for staying in the area, taking part in
sports and participating in events such as markets and concerts. From day one
the municipality has used the square as a venue for big events for the city in
order to fulfil the wish of introducing a new city area to its stakeholders.
Concerts have especially brought people from the city and surrounding districts
to the harbour area; but the annual harbour festival has also been a great
success. The festival is advertised through different media, targeting as many
stakeholders as possible, and the payoff has been that other activities are now
being moved to, or held at, the square.
Concerts, sport and culture are the theme for many of the new city activities
at the harbour. Its citizens saw new possibilities in the use of the area: a kayak-
polo club asked for permission to use the harbour basin for training activities;
event organizers choose the harbour area as a venue or location; flea-markets
take place at the harbour during weekends; and festivals are held and
planned.
The municipality summed up the experiences from the transformation of
the harbour in eight guidelines for developing new city areas (Waterfront
Communities Project, 2007, p.136). Some key guidelines and lessons based on
these are as follows:

Make visions clear to everybody. The city’s vision for regeneration must be clear
and widely accepted, both by stakeholders and ordinary citizens. The vision has
to be specific regarding which city-wide goals are to be fulfilled, as well as the
objectives for urban life in the area.

The Odense project process showed that it is very important that the vision is
adopted by both the municipal organization and its users. A strong factor in
getting everybody to become familiar with the vision and to support its
realization was that the vision was ratified by politicians and communicated
and distributed widely to officials, citizens and stakeholders. TV-spots,
newspapers, advertising and big screen ads also drew attention to the
development of the harbour, focusing on both the role of the new harbour in
relation to the city and the possibilities in the area itself to ensure as many
people as possible are interested in visiting and exploring the harbour in the
future. The Harbour Forum workshop for invited stakeholders ensured that
local groups feel ownership of the harbour, so that they now start up their own
initiatives and activities in the area.

Use temporary activities as part of the process. Harbour areas may be virtually
unknown to the city’s residents, who would have been discouraged or even
forbidden in the past to access the area. In order to redress the situation, people
need to be ‘lured’ to the waterfront via lively temporary activities, such as concerts,
markets and fairs. This can help to establish more permanent activities.
142    solvejg beyer reigstad

In Odense, the municipality took on the role of event organizer – both

constructing the ‘scene’ or ‘stage’ and illustrating the possibilities for using the
harbour by financing and setting up temporary activities and arranging concerts
and festivals. The wish was to transform the harbour into a destination instead
of a ‘non-existing’ part of the city, and more and more events and activities are
happening at the harbour. The municipality gradually intends to reduce their
own events, letting other event organizers take over and take ownership of the
use of the area and the harbour square.
However, harbour users today are not necessarily the same people who will
ensure a living city in the long run. The process has to be followed up by
cooperation with local users and new residents in order to ensure that they also
gain ownership and use the area.

Make active use of evaluation. Evaluation is essential, especially in long-term

regeneration. The world is changing quickly, so strategies and plans have to be
revised in order to secure objectives in a changing environment.

The extra time involved in developing strategies, visions and evaluations

afforded by the municipality’s participation in the Waterfront Communities
Project proved to be very valuable. Vision and goals were brought forward, and
methods and tools were evaluated during intervals. This ensured a good
continuity in the process, putting the common goals upfront in all people’s
minds and ensuring that all stakeholders were working in the same direction.
If Odense and other municipalities change their working process and include
evaluation as a natural part of the planning process in the future, visions and
goals will have a better chance of being realized and planners will get
the chance to use their learning from the failures and successes in future
planning.
The method of integrating the planning of a new city area with the planning
of city life and public space needs a strong municipal organization or political
unit which can define, formulate, control and regulate the vision and goals,
seeing the process through to its implementation. It is also important that the
method is evaluated step by step throughout the development process. This will
give deeper knowledge about how the method works in each local context –
knowledge that is valuable for the development of other areas.

Perspectives and cases from Scandinavia

In many cities, new city areas are being planned and built on brownfield sites,
and central city areas have also grown due to economic development and
growth in the housing market – often without considering the planning of
attractive public space or sufficient time to evaluate the results. Copenhagen, in
Denmark, and Oslo, in Norway, provide examples of different planning
approaches. In this chapter, the cases from Copenhagen illustrate what happens
if public life is not part of the planning process, and the Oslo case supports the
learning from Odense: if you plan for public life you have a better chance of
achieving a living city.
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    143

Copenhagen, Denmark
In Copenhagen, most of the harbour front was occupied by industry until the
1980s. Almost all industries have now closed or moved to other locations,
giving space to new city activities, residential areas, business and recreation.
The new accessibility of the harbour front to the public made the qualities of
being a city with a long waterfront obvious to everybody. In order to secure the
new recreational qualities and water access for all citizens, Copenhagen
Municipality made a rule stating that the harbour front had to be publicly
accessible, with a connecting promenade along the quay. Most of the quays are
privately owned or have been sold to investors, so the municipality saves money
for their maintenance.
However, the rule about public accessibility meets a contradicting private
interest: landowners love their view over the water but do not want to invite
the public to sit or stay just outside their buildings, and therefore they do not
want to create nice places for the public to sit or stay. So even though the whole
promenade is publicly accessible, nobody uses it because it looks private and
dull. Not even the residents or users of the buildings feel invited to use the area
along the harbour front.
A living environment depends upon how buildings relate to public spaces.
It can be a big challenge for municipalities to hold back development until
strategies and visions for public spaces are ready. Odense harbour already has
one office building that has turned its back to the waterfront promenade –
standing on pillars out into the basin with a closed façade, sending the signal
that this part of the promenade is private – even though it is public. It will be
essential for the future planning of the area that the vision of a living and varied
city area is made concrete. Clear guidelines for the design of ground-floor
façades and the harbour front areas have to be defined and followed to ensure
that the promenades become inviting to public life (Gehl et al, 2004).
It has been an unwritten law for developers that the layout of public space
is the least important part of constructing new buildings and is the responsibility
of the municipality. During recent years, however, there has been more focus on
user involvement, learning from the planning mistakes of the past and focusing
on public space: the creation of living and liveable city areas. Today city life is
considered an important factor in development creating value for the
landowners, and Copenhagen is looking into new projects along the most
deserted parts of the new harbour front, including Kalvebod Brygge (see Figure
8.2) – projects that will transform the areas into recreational parks for all
citizens, such as Islands Brygge harbour front, which includes a harbour
swimming pool.
In Ørestad, Copenhagen, the first component in the new city district was its
infrastructure: the metro and streets. The income from selling the land financed
the metro line, which connects Ørestad with the central and northern parts of
Copenhagen. The presence of the metro as a modern and efficient public
transport system raised the attractiveness and value of the building sites and
helped the development to get going. The metro is the backbone of Ørestad and
ensures easy access for pedestrians – a sustainable way of planning the modern
city. But for this to be a success, the environment around the metro, including
144    solvejg beyer reigstad

Figure 8.2 The deserted Kalvebod Brygge, Copenhagen

Source: Solvejg Reigstad

its accessibility and connections to other means of public transport for

pedestrians and bikes, has to support pedestrian and bike transport. Here the
planning of inviting public space – streets and squares – is highly relevant. In
Ørestad, the design of public spaces has not been integrated within the overall
planning, and most squares are not inviting to pedestrians, city activities or
recreation. The central square of Ørestad City (Kay Fiskers Square) is open to
the wind, with no furniture to invite people to stay, and is designed on a scale,
with very tall surrounding buildings, that seems suitable for highway traffic but
not for the pedestrians who could offer the city life. The ground-floor façades
that frame the square are blind and introverted, and there are no functions to
support activity. A study of Kay Fiskers Square and Aker Brygge Torg in Oslo
(Gehl, 2007) shows that even though there are two-fifths more people passing
through Kay Fiskers Square, there is 39 times more activity at the Aker Brygge
Torg because Aker Brygge Torg offers mixed functions, cafés and an
environment that protects against wind, inviting people to stay (see also
Chapter 9). This study shows a very clear lesson: if planners want a city area
to be a living space, it is not enough to ensure that there are many people in the
area and on the streets (e.g. through high density). The design of good and
inviting public space is crucial.
In the northern part of Ørestad, the problem is that most of the planned
squares had still not been constructed eight years after the first users and
stakeholders moved into the district (see Figure 8.3). The reason for this is that
all the squares were to be designed and built by individual developers, and most
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    145

Figure 8.3 Ørestad North, with no squares to meet

Source: Solvejg Reigstad

of the squares belonged to the later projects in the development. Until 2010,
stakeholders and users, which include over 12,000 students from the
Copenhagen University Faculty of Humanities and the IT-University, only had
the streets as a possible location for events. After 2010, the first square was
constructed and more residents, users and students moved in; but the use of the
new squares (e.g. for events) will depend upon which layout and design of the
square the landowner chooses to make and whether the landowner gives
permission.
Because of the lack of public spaces in Ørestad North, the stakeholders’
association (the Ørestad North Group), in cooperation with the landowners’
association, decided to use construction sites temporarily as public spaces.
These temporary spaces are employed as test laboratories for functions and
activities that can be a part of the planning of future permanent spaces.

Oslo, Norway
Oslo has, like Odense, worked with different types of planning methods to
open up the new harbour areas to the public. Oslo’s TEMPO! Fjordbyen
project used art to open people’s eyes to the potential of new areas. One of the
temporary projects was a 2.6km long red line that guided people through the
harbour area where new city districts were to be built, including the new Opera
House.2 The line sent a signal of coherence within the area and introduced the
qualities and potential of the area to new users, adding a twist of curiosity.
The Bjørvika architectural competition and the design of the opera are good
examples of how public space is included in the planning process from the start.
The Bjørvika competition focused on public space as the most important
structural element for planning the new harbour area. Public spaces are used as
links between town and sea and over infrastructural barriers, and the spaces
146    solvejg beyer reigstad

Figure 8.4 The opera in Oslo: the roof is a public space

Source: Gehl Architects

create a network of attractive places for pedestrians – different in scale and

function – which also serve as links to the public transport system.3 The opera
is a part of the public space network; the whole roof of the Opera House is a
public space that celebrates its central location on the edge of the sea and is
open to the public, not only to paying visitors (see Figure 8.4). This is a strong
signal to the public and other stakeholders that city life and public spaces for
people are the main priority when planning new harbour areas.
As in Odense, Oslo’s planning process has included many different elements,
such as user dialogue and participation, an anthology/booklet to open people’s
minds to the harbour, the layout of public space as a kick-starter for city life in
the new areas, a transport analysis of sustainable infrastructure focusing on
pedestrians and bikes, and a new tramline to serve the harbour area.

How to plan living cities

Denmark has had a long tradition of innovative planning of public space.
Particularly during the 1970s, Danish planners and architects created world-
famous low-density housing areas with a focus on public and semi-public
spaces for people in which to meet and stay. The transformation of Copenhagen
from a car-city to a pedestrian-city started in 1971 when Strøget – the first
pedestrian street in Copenhagen inner-city – opened. But since then the focus
has changed to the design of buildings, creating spectacular landmarks;
increasingly, areas are planned without looking into what will make them a
living and attractive space for people’s activities.
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    147

Many new residential areas are now planned without considering, or

knowing, how the detailing of the public space will influence the use of the
public area. Each flat has a balcony; cars are parked underground, with
direct elevator access to the flats. The result of these new facilities and plans
is that nobody needs to move through public spaces on foot. Nobody feels
ownership of the external spaces, which are often designed so that they are
nice for people to look at from their flats and balconies (Richter-Friis van
Deurs, 2010). But if the intention of planners and architects is to develop
living city areas with people on the streets – and most renderings shows us
that this is the intention – then the planning of public space has to be taken
seriously and prioritized.
It is important that architects and planners are aware of the fact that we
build cities for human beings, and therefore need to have knowledge about
human behaviour. What makes us feel welcome, sit down, initiate activities and
set up meetings in a public space? Too many examples can be found where the
focus is on the design of buildings and pavements, resulting in new city areas
that are deserted, with no city life, even though the architects think that they
have done their best, using expensive materials and good design. New city
projects are being created, with project renderings that show people and city
life, but end up with developments on the ground with no life and big
disappointments from not getting what was expected.
However, during the last decade, the awareness of the need for greater focus on
how people use public space has been influencing city planning in Denmark, and
municipalities and developers now have stated agendas that include the creation of
city life as an important factor in the visions and plans for new city areas.

But what really makes a living city?

In Denmark, since the 1970s, Jan Gehl has conducted research into what makes
a living city and what elements and factors should be integrated within the
planning process to ensure that public space attracts people, invites activities
and is diverse and lively. Once public space is of good quality, city life can reach
its full potential. The more inviting public space is, the better the chance that
people will use it actively. But quality has many faces and meanings. Research
by Jan Gehl has identified the 12 most essential quality criteria for planning
public space (see Figure 8.5). The criteria can be divided into three categories:
protection, comfort and enjoyment. All criteria influence the use and activity
level in public spaces (Gehl et al, 2006).
By using the criteria to evaluate public space or public space projects, it is
possible to see how spaces can be adjusted or planned to ensure that the
appropriate conditions are provided for a diverse city life. Not all factors need
to be present, and sometimes spaces will be planned with a focus on factors and
aims other than city life. But it is important to be familiar with these criteria as
a tool, and if the intention is to create a living space, it is important to optimize
as many criteria as possible.
Research at the Centre for Public Space Research has also shown that city
life can be divided into two categories: the necessary activities that will occur
148    solvejg beyer reigstad

THE 12 KEY QUALITY CRITERIA

Protection against Protection against Protection against

traffic and accidents − crime and violence − unpleasant sensory
feeling safe feeling secure experiences

PROTECTION
Protection for pedestrians Lively public realm Wind
Eliminating fear of traffic Eyes on the street Rain/snow
Overlapping functions Cold/heat
day and night Pollution
Good lighting Dust, noise, glare

Opportunities to walk Opportunities to Opportunities to sit

stand/stay
Room for walking Zones for sitting
Interesting facades Edge effect/attractive zones for Utilizing advantages: view, sun,
No obstacles standing/staying people
Good surfaces Supports for standing Good places to sit
Accessibility for everyone Facades with good details that Benches for resting
invite staying
COMFORT

Opportunities to see Opportunities for

Opportunities to talk play and exercise
Reasonable viewing dis- and listen
tances Physical activity, exercise
Unhindered views Low noise levels Play and street entertainment
Interesting views Street furniture that provides By day and night
Lighting (when dark) ‘talkscapes’ In summer and winter

Opportunities to Positive sensory

Scale enjoy the positive aspects experience
ENJOYMENT

of climate
Buildings and spaces de- Good design and detailing
signed to human scale Sun/shade Good materials
Heat/coolness Fine views
Shelter from wind/breeze Trees, plants, water

Figure 8.5 Twelve quality criteria to evaluate city space

Source: Gehl et al, 2006

regardless of the quality of space and the optional activities that will only occur
by choice in people’s spare time (see Figure 8.6).
If public space does not invite people to stay, people will go elsewhere in
their spare time and only the minimum of activities will happen. If an event is
arranged, visitors will come driven by interest; but the number of visitors will
primarily be based on the character of the event and not on the quality of the
public space. If planners want to create an active city 24/7, it is important to
provide good-quality public spaces that invite optional activities on ordinary
weekdays – and if everyday users use the public spaces actively, the area also
has a better chance to become a destination for optional users.
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    149

Events

Optional activities

80%

30%

20%

Necessary predictable activities 30% 20%

60%

10% 40%

10%

Summer day Spring / Autumn day Winter day

Figure 8.6 Activities and weather

Source: Gehl Architects

Learning from the development of Odense harbour

front
In Odense, the municipality tested two new innovative methods to develop new
city areas: planning life and public space before erecting buildings, and using
events to introduce the area to citizens and stakeholders. These methods can be
evaluated from different perspectives.
It is still too early to state whether the layout of public promenades and a
square as an attractor and kick-starter for city life before buildings are built will
ensure a living harbour front in Odense in the long run. The Harbour Square
has been used from day one, giving room to a city life that did not have
anywhere else to go, and introducing a new city area to the citizens through
events and a positive atmosphere. One can expect that once the physical
connections between the city and the harbour are made and the permanent
150    solvejg beyer reigstad

functions have moved to the area, the harbour will be a city district like any
other district in the city and a location in people’s minds.
Holding back a development while a vision is being generated can be
problematic, and planning is not static, but a process that should be able to
meet changes in context and market. It takes visionary developers and a strong
consensus and control within the municipal organization to hold back on
development until the planning of the public space network is ready. And it
takes power and will to stop projects that do not support vision and planning.
The process of starting with vision and strategy before building has, in some
cases, at Odense harbour been set aside by market forces and economic
interests. Unfortunately, the planners in Odense did not have enough power to
keep development of the harbour back until the plan was ready. Office buildings
have been built on very central locations along the waterfront, and their design
does not support the vision’s guideline that new buildings actively have to
support city life. They have become mono-functional and introverted and have
isolated themselves from public space.
It is a big challenge to implement visions and ideas in a planning process.
Only by setting up specific conditions in the contract when selling the land can
the municipality impose restrictions upon functions, rent and design; but then
the quality of the public space depends upon contractual negotiations – and
negotiations are all about making compromises at some levels to ensure optimal
conditions on other levels. The municipality could try to train investors to work
with it as a partner with key knowledge. By giving the investors an insight into
the methods, visions and references to other feasible and visionary projects, the
chance to reach consensus through dialogue instead of negotiations could be
raised – and investors could then see the value in supporting the realization of
the vision and planning for the area.
On the other hand, the first office buildings in Odense harbour kick-started
development of the harbour, drawing the attention of other investors to the
area, and showing the politicians that introverted buildings do not create the
desired environment – that a life plan for the city is necessary.
But as this chapter has shown, the layout of a public space and promenades
is not enough to ensure a living city – the design of the space itself is hugely
important. Odense’s Harbour Square can be evaluated using the 12 quality
criteria presented earlier. Some of the criteria relate to the detailing and scale of
the surrounding buildings; due to the absence of buildings near the square,
these factors will not receive a positive evaluation. This does not mean that the
factors are irrelevant; they still have to be considered once the buildings are
being designed.
The square meets almost all of the quality criteria. It lacks protection
against wind and crime prevention through natural surveillance, but this is
expected to improve once the buildings are constructed. The greatest challenge
when creating a big square is to combine the openness that can host thousands
of people at events while providing protection against the elements and relating
to the human scale. The harbour square in Odense has small-scale zones for
‘sedentary’ activities, as well as large open surfaces for sports – a good way to
meet the challenge of the big scale and host the everyday living and optional
activities that provide the basis for a naturally vibrant city.
 how visions of a living city come alive: the case of odense, denmark    151

Whether the use of temporary activities and events can kick-start the use of
a former brownfield area depends very much upon levels of communication.
The development of Odense harbour has been communicated to stakeholders
through a variety of media in order to ensure that the target group is as broad
as possible and that numerous people become interested in exploring the
harbour in the future. The Harbour Forum workshop for stakeholders, which
was held in Odense as a kick-off for the vision, provided local groups with a
feeling of ownership so that they, in turn, could initiate projects and activities
in the area.
When looking at the number of citizens who visited the harbour at the
harbour festival, received a newspaper or saw the live broadcast of the summer
concert, there is no doubt that the harbour development process in Odense
transformed the area and created a new destination in the city in the minds of
its citizens. There has been great interest in the webpage about the harbour, as
well as tours and mobile phone information spots, all focusing on the history
of, and plans for, the harbour development. By 2006, 10,000 copies of the book
Odense Docklands and Canal had been sold in a Danish and English version.
In the media, TV-spots, newspapers, advertising and big screen ads have drawn
attention to the development of the harbour.
Odense’s Harbour Square has proved very useful for events (see Figure 8.7);
but it now needs to find a role for daily users because the area is still separate
from the rest of the city. Supporting functions have not yet been established
because the buildings that will frame the square still need to be constructed, as

Figure 8.7 Odense harbour life

Source: Lars Gemzøe
152    solvejg beyer reigstad

does the rest of the area. When local users move in, the harbour square will
prove whether it is, indeed, a living part of the city.
A key lesson from the Odense case is that if you open a new area physically
and mentally to its citizens and users, and develop inviting public spaces and
places for activities, people will come. To start the planning of new areas with
the planning and creation of public spaces is an efficient tool, but only if
architects and planners know the tools and methods to create inviting public
spaces. Hopefully, future planning will place the creation of good-quality public
spaces at the beginning of the planning process so that all citizens have access
to places where they would love to sit for another ten minutes before they have
to go.

Notes
1� The working method is also introduced in Chapter 8 regarding the Harbourscape Aalborg
workshop, where Gehl Architects were the team leader for one of the conceptual models. This
working method is also described at www.gehlarchitects.com.
2� See www.prosjekt-fjordbyen.oslo.kommune.no/article50387{ndash}5716.html?articleID =
50387&categoryID = 5716&tip = 1.
3� See www.arkitektnytt.no/page/detail/article/10831/news{hyphen}4{hyphen}1963.html,
Arkitektnyt 2007/07, Theme: Fjordbyen and www.bjorvikautvikling.no.
9
Successful Place-Making on
the Waterfront
Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari, Paul Jenkins and Harry Smith

Introduction
This chapter explores the meaning of, and ideas surrounding, the concepts of
place and place-making, and focuses on the definition of a ‘successful place’
within the context of urban transformations in waterfront areas. In particular,
it discusses the opportunities and conditions for a successful waterfront,
looking into spatial, visual and social aspects of the ‘place’ created.
To set the scene, the first section discusses various approaches to
understanding the concept of place, including analytical frameworks from
political and economic perspectives, based on the understanding of global and
local influences and power relations; from a physical and spatial point of view,
in the context of understanding people’s experiences of places from a perceptive
or phenomenological approach; and from design and planning-oriented
approaches to the notion of place, often of a more normative nature geared a
priori towards the notion of successful place-making.
Following this brief review of relevant concepts and approaches, a series of
case studies are introduced and analysed showing different levels of success
with regards to place-making as ‘test cases’. Each case explores the relationship
between urban design quality, the processes of production of urban space, and
the dynamics of social activity in modern cities. Therefore, different aspects of
the processes of development are compared through the case studies analysis,
with the objective of understanding the influences of varying levels of
involvement, from planning departments and other stakeholders, in the creation
of a ‘successful place’ on the waterfront.
The investigation presented in this chapter draws upon previous studies
focused on place-making and urban design, and looks at some examples of
regeneration among the partner cities in the Waterfront Communities Project
(Garcia Ferrari et al, 2007). The analysis is focused on three North Sea
waterfronts: Gateshead, Oslo and Malmö. The chapter demonstrates how
some places are perceived as becoming successful in social and cultural terms,
and how this relates to the spatial and visual environment. In this, the case
studies analysis intends to be aspirational and not judgemental, focusing on the
most successful aspects of the places analysed and aiming to understand the
154    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

context in which the development took place and the different processes
experienced.
The chapter then draws conclusions on key aspects for sustainable place-
making at different geographical scales, including the importance of time in the
creation of place, as well as providing some reflection on the physical
characteristics of successful waterfront places.

Understanding what we mean by ‘successful place’

Place can be defined as ‘the predominantly socio-cultural perception and
definition of space’ (Jenkins, 2005, p.20) and is an important element of identity,
whether individual or collective. The concept of place has been analysed within
a variety of fields, ranging from those dealing with the collective (e.g. social and
cultural geography) to the individual (e.g. environmental psychology), and from
the analytical to the propositional (e.g. planning and design).
Cultural geographers and anthropologists tend to approach the question of
place by adopting interpretive humanistic frameworks, enquiring into human
experiences (Bachelard, 1964; Feld and Basso, 1996) and often blended with
social theory (Walter, 1988). Another trend in cultural geography is framed
within the neo-Marxist critique and associated globalization theory (Harvey,
1989; Soja, 2000), and is often focused on issues related to political action,
institutional power and social control. Alongside these analytical trends, more
recent approaches have focused on theorizing social identities. Within these
different approaches, most work has looked at place as the result of both local
and global power relations. Place in this context appears to be related to power
struggles and resistance at different local, regional and global geographical scales
(Feld and Basso, 1996), and to the formation of place-based forms of identity by
socio-cultural groupings and institutions (Jenkins, 2005). These approaches tend
to examine process rather than physical space and explain developments through
the understanding of power relations, participation and different levels of
institutional influence in development and management processes.
Within the field of environmental psychology, the concept of place is defined
by the bonds and shared values created through perceptive experiences of
places, linked to the notions of place attachment, sense of place and place
identity, amongst others. Within this field there is general agreement that the
generation of emotional connections with places is vital to achieving
psychological equilibrium and encouraging local involvement and social
interaction – linking this approach to the one above (Vorkin and Riese, 2001;
Guardia and Pol, 2002; Brown et al, 2003). ‘Place attachment’1 is influenced by
length of residence (Hernández et al, 2007), number and type of relationships
within a community (Giuliani, 1991; Brown et al, 2003), and the physical
attributes (and linked symbolic meanings) of a place (Stedman, 2003), among
other factors. Place attachment is usually understood as a key component in the
definition of place identity (Kaiser and Fuhrer, 1996);2 however, the latter is
seen by environmental psychology as an attribute of an individual rather than
of a place. Nevertheless, the formation of a sense of place identity by an
individual is inevitably influenced by the variety of people who live in a place
 successful place-making on the waterfront    155

and relies on the individual’s position within a social network (Lewicka, 2008),
and some explanations see traditions and cultural transmissions as being more
influential than personal experiences.
While there has been much research in the field of environmental psychology
into the perception and qualities of pre-existing settings and places, there has
been less study of the significance of understanding the qualities of place as part
of the architectural design process.3 However, the qualities of place (and the
concept of community, often related to values imbued within ‘place’) have been
central to a series of critical writings on urban development and planning that
emerged as a reaction to the results of modernist planning and urban design,
particularly in the US. Jane Jacobs’s (1961) writing on the negative impacts of
urban renewal policies in the US and William Whyte’s observation of how
public spaces are actually used (Whyte, 1988) provided a basis for a move
towards proactive ‘place-making’ within the field of urban planning and
renewal. This professional area of activity has increasingly turned its attention
to how to create ‘successful places’.
The drive towards place-making in government and professional circles,
and the resulting inclusion of this in planning and urban design policy and
guidance have drawn only indirectly on the results of the research areas referred
to above. Fields such as anthropology and environmental psychology may
consider the notion of a ‘successful place’ as being linked to, for example, the
extent to which it fulfils emotional needs (Korpela et al, 2001). But normative
policy-making generally obviates such abstract explanations and focuses on
praxis, with ‘successful place-making’ being addressed principally through two
approaches: respectively focusing on the physical characteristics of place (with
particular relevance to urban design) and the processes of social interaction
(with particular relevance to planning process).
A classic example of the physical design approach is the Urban Design
Compendium in the UK, which provides detailed guidance ranging from broad
issues, such as the wider context of a development, through to more detailed
topics such as plot size (Llewelyn-Davies, 2000). Its guidance is predicated on
a notion of what is seen as the traditional city, offering ‘places for people’, and
based on concepts such as connectivity, mixed use, mid to high densities, etc.
This has provided a reference point for many detailed planning and urban
design briefs throughout the UK. The approach relies on an assumption that
the physical characteristics of a place influence how its users will interact with
it and assumptions of certain collective social characteristics concerning cultural
values embedded within places (whether public or private).
The approach that focuses on social interaction can engage with the actual
process of planning and delivery of developments, or with the management of
these. For example, guidance produced by the US Department of Housing and
Urban Development (CONCERN Inc., 2002) sees design and decision-making
tools as helping planners, policy-makers and citizens build consensus about the
design and development of a place, and community participation in development
processes and community-led activities as helping to achieve a ‘successful
place’. However, it highlights the complexity of the interrelated systems of
values that define ‘place’ and, therefore, the importance of communication
156    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

among participants in the process and analysis in successful ‘place-making’. In

another example of this procedural approach, Greenspace Scotland and Project
for Public Spaces (2006) state that 80 per cent of the success of public spaces is
due to their management rather than design – with management referring to
‘programming’ activities such as the provision of coffee shops, street markets,
managing traffic, etc.
Focusing on waterfront areas, these have experienced significant urban
regeneration processes during the beginning of the 21st century, as the
examples presented in this book show. In the context of the discussion above,
how can we analyse and define a successful waterfront place? The authors
address this question by using three scales for assessing aspects of ‘place’ and
‘place-making’ in waterfronts: the macro-, meso- and micro-scale. The macro-
scale refers to placing the waterfront in a wider regional, national and
international context and is often linked to different approaches to ‘marketing’
the waterfront and locating the developed area on the map. This approach
tends to be framed within the political-economy perspective described at the
beginning of the analytical framework section above. The meso-scale refers to
how the place fits into the overall area of the waterfront development and, in
particular, how it connects to the surrounding city; hence, it tends to reflect
physical design/planning guidance. The micro-scale refers to the sense of place
at a human scale and the qualities of the physical, visual and social realm
within this, and, hence, includes phenomenological aspects, although this also
affects the meso-scales.

Case studies
As the Waterfront Communities Project (WCP) was coming to an end, the need
to develop a research focus on the spatial, social and visual aspects of the
waterfront areas undergoing regeneration emerged, with the aim of beginning
to understand the conditions for place-making. In order to explore, in particular,
the sense of place and nature of the socio-cultural use of waterfronts, the
researchers asked the WCP partners to rate the participating waterfronts in
terms of their success as places. This generated the initial steps towards the
study presented in this chapter, which was based on information subsequently
collected by the researchers during visits to the selected waterfronts, including
interviews with key stakeholders involved in the process. The study initially
focused on Gateshead Quays and Aker Brygge in Oslo. In writing this chapter,
the case of Malmö, which was not a partner in the WCP, was added for further
comparison. The following sections build upon some of the findings using case
study analyses, with places being assessed using the three scales described
above: the macro, meso and micro.

A place on the map: Gateshead Quays

The area known as Gateshead Quays was part of the industrial past of
Gateshead City, which developed as part of a conurbation with Newcastle. As
seen in Chapter 3, after several different forms of development during the
centuries, ranging from the original urban settlement to dock activity, by the
 successful place-making on the waterfront    157

second half of the 20th century the area had become run down and disconnected
from the nearby centre of Gateshead. During the 1990s, regeneration and
economic revival began to reach Newcastle Quayside across the Tyne. The
cleaning up of the river with the construction of the Tyne Interceptor Sewer also
paved the way for regenerating the south bank, Gateshead Quays, as a result
of the success of the urban transformations of the north bank. A number of
landmark iconic buildings emerged, as part of the regeneration process: the
Millennium Bridge and two cultural venues (the BALTIC Centre for
Contemporary Art and the Sage Gateshead music centre) (see Figure 3.4).
These flagship developments have been key to transforming the area (Garcia
Ferrari et al, 2007).
The regeneration area is located on the northern edge of central Gateshead
across the river from the centre of Newcastle. The urban regeneration strategy
proposed by Gateshead Council extends along the River Tyne and includes the
town centre, comprising approximately 16ha. Most of the land belongs to the
city, with some notable exceptions (see Chapter 3). The development was not
led by a comprehensive masterplan, but by the construction of separate
flagship developments, which were aimed at generating the development of the
surrounding areas. The area was divided into seven main large sites,4 each of
which was assigned a specific function or type of activity. When completed, the
overall development will contain two cultural venues, two public squares
linked to these, a residential development, a visitor centre located in the
refurbished existing St Mary’s church, and a mixed-use/leisure development. A
proposal for the latter – containing restaurants, cafés and bars, a cinema, retail
shops, a major hotel, a public car park and housing over a site of 2ha – was
approved in 2006 but did not go ahead. This was subsequently developed in a
masterplan for the whole of Gateshead Quays, produced in 2010, after
completion of the flagship developments (RMJM, NG1 and Gateshead
Council, 2010).
The Millennium Bridge is a key feature and the main initial landmark in the
regeneration – a pedestrian link between Gateshead and Newcastle, allowing at
the same time the passage of shipping traffic along the river through its unique
tilting mechanism. A main physical characteristic in the overall area is the
significant difference in the levels on both sides of the river and within the
Gateshead waterfront area, with a drop of about 70m from the town centre to
the riverside. Each of the large sites therefore presents a unique set of
characteristics within the overall area, with little commonality. Interventions
range in land use and type, from the refurbishment of an existing flour-mill,
converted into the BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art, to new developments
on brownfield sites. Developments are sited topographically from a level on the
actual riverbank (BALTIC and Exhibition Square) to development on steep
slopes (the Sage, the housing development and the proposed mixed-use
development). In spatial terms, the relationship between these sites and types of
development also varies, ranging from the isolation of BALTIC and its large
open public square to the adjacency of the housing and proposed mixed-use
developments (Exhibition Square, see Figure 9.1).
Two public squares are provided in the overall development, with the main
point of public encounter located between the two cultural icons, Sage and
158    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

Figure 9.1 View of Exhibition Square, Gateshead Quays

Source: authors

BALTIC (see Figure 9.2). However, there is no designated use for this space; it
is designed as an open platform for pedestrians, although it could support
temporary activities, such as theme fairs or open-air exhibitions. The other
designed public area is Performance Square, associated with the Sage and
providing an open terrace over the Quays, albeit with no sense of enclosure.
Access to Gateshead Quays occurs in various ways. Cars arrive at the
highest level, with pedestrian access from a large car park provided through a
 successful place-making on the waterfront    159

Figure 9.2 View of iconic buildings along Gateshead Quays

Source: Paul Jenkins

series of open concrete stairs, and additional car parking spaces behind the
international Art Centre. The Quays can also be accessed by pedestrians across
the Millennium Bridge from Newcastle (i.e. at the much lower river level).
Public transport reaches the area and links the main buildings at the lower level
of the riverbank.
The key buildings on the site present very different scales. The BALTIC Centre
for Contemporary Art began its construction in 1998 and opened in 2002. This
six-storey concrete and brick-clad building is scaled down to two storeys in the
block that projects onto Baltic Square in order to provide a more inviting scale at
the entrance. New internal platforms and three mezzanines are linked through a
glass lift, which also serves as a moving viewing deck. Artist studios, cinema/
lecture space, a library/archive and rooftop access are also provided. The south
and north elevations were retained as in the original 1950s building. South of
this, a 241-apartment residential development, Baltic Quay, comprises a series of
linked blocks, ranging from 7 to 16 storeys, arranged along a curving plan and
sitting on a three-storey base which fills the plot with a large car park. The Sage,
opened in 2004, is the largest building in the area and is located at the upper side
of the waterfront area, separated from BALTIC and its adjacent public square by
a large sloping site still designated for future development. This iconic landmark
building contains two performance spaces and one rehearsal space covered by a
large independent steel and glass structure.
Rather than being a comprehensively masterplanned development with set
phases, the regeneration of Gateshead Quays is an example of a process where
160    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

council land ownership, strong leadership and the ability to seize opportunities
while controlling risk were key drivers. Development proposals were based on
the assessment of needs and activities that would change the profile of the site.
The main objective of Gateshead Quays was to create a cultural hub – hence,
the Sage and BALTIC developments. Funding was the result of successful
bidding to the Millennium Commission (for the Millennium Bridge) and the
Arts Lottery (for BALTIC and the Sage), mostly match-funded by Gateshead
Council, followed by design competitions for the structures and buildings.
Initiatives related to strategies for the public realm thus came later on in the
process.5 The result is that the public areas generated outside these iconic
buildings were not the focus of design or in-depth treatment through the
coordinated provision of street furniture, public art or landscaping. Intensity of
use in these public areas therefore appears to be directly related to the activities
that may be taking place within the flagship cultural buildings or the result of
occasional large-scale public events.
The absence of relation between the sites results in the perception of a
heterogeneous place lacking clarity of connections among its parts. Drawing on
the analytical frameworks presented earlier in this chapter, a successful place
should fulfil people’s emotional needs and even influence mood. The lack of
connection and meaningful open spaces between the flagship developments in
Gateshead, however, seems to lead to a sense of dislocation and confusion in
the human experience of place. It is perhaps the spectacular existing setting
along the Tyne Gorge, with upstream views towards different generations of
spanning bridges and views across the riverbanks to buildings of different ages
climbing up Newcastle hillside, as well as the iconic images of the new flagship
developments, which provide most of the sense of place.
However, from a wider regional perspective, development of this area has
completely changed its public perception, and the regeneration has generated
opportunities for the area to acquire regional significance with the provision of
new cultural and tourism activities. Moreover, if we understand that place
identity is defined by a sense of belonging to a place, the fact that Gateshead
Quays are now widely visited and appear as an attraction on a much larger
geographical scale could well have an influence on increasing people’s level of
attachment and emotional connections to the area – albeit transient. It is still
early days in the regeneration process, and considering that the development
strategies have achieved the initial success of ‘putting the place on the cultural
and tourist map’, time may provide opportunities for the future to create
attractive and successful places within the developed area.
In summary, Gateshead Quays seems to be succeeding at the macro-level,
and belatedly stitching together the meso-level sense of place more actively. Its
process has, however, affected the micro-level perceptions and success of place-
making, although the macro-level success and on-going meso-level proactive
activity may assist this development more in time.

A place in the city: Aker Brygge in Oslo

Aker Brygge is on the west side of one of Oslo’s inner fjords – Pipervika – next
to the 19th-century expansion of Oslo, where the city centre and the site of the
 successful place-making on the waterfront    161

town hall and its adjacent grand square are located, and close to the
entertainment quarter of Vika and major central tourist attractions. It covers
5.8ha of flat land bounded on the south-east by the fjord, on the south-west by
a former dry dock (now a water inlet), on the north-west by a main access road
into central Oslo, and on the north-east by the site of a former railway station
and a connection to the City Hall Square. At the northern end of the dockside
is the terminal for the ferry linking Oslo city centre to the neighbouring
municipality of Nesodden. Despite its central location, the area used to be
largely cut off from the city centre by the main east–west motorway constructed
during the 1960s, although this was spanned by a pedestrian bridge.
From 1854 the area developed as a shipyard, becoming a major employer
in the city. Decline in the shipyard industry early in the 20th century led to the
conversion of the area to engineering. At the end of the 1980s and due to
shipbuilding moving to less valuable land elsewhere in the country, the company
that owned the land decided to develop this in cooperation with financial
institutions. The plan was to create a mixed-use urban area containing housing,
offices, shopping and leisure facilities. This development was implemented in
four phases between 1985 and 1998, which followed the layout of an overall
masterplan. The construction of a tunnel for the main east–west traffic through
Oslo, the pedestrianization and regeneration of adjacent Town Hall Square and
the relocation of ferry landings to the Aker Brygge wharfs have all contributed
to the success of the development (see Figure 9.3).
The masterplan for the development was based on a tight-knit street grid
mainly following lines parallel and perpendicular to the south-east facing
dockside. Within this regular basic grid, variety is introduced with other street
orientations, different street and open space widths, and different types of

Figure 9.3 Aerial view of Aker Brygge, Oslo

Source: © City of Oslo
162    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

alignments of block edges. In addition, a series of internal streets are located

through the commercial development. The development’s urban blocks are
similar in size to those found in Oslo city centre, with the largest being
approximately 60m by 90m. Some are further subdivided by the narrow
pedestrian lanes. Building heights vary from 6 to 12 storeys. Two pre-existing
shipyard buildings have been refurbished, while the rest of the buildings are
new, with considerable variety of design.
The street network is predominately pedestrian, with access provided for
service vehicles. The main access points are on the north-east side of Aker Brygge,
which is the most visible and better connected to the city centre via the western
side of City Hall Square, where a tram stop and a taxi rank have been provided.
Private vehicles can access the site from the north-west boundary road, leading to
the entrance of the car park extending under most of the development area.
Aker Brygge is divided horizontally into layers. An underground layer
contains parking, internal traffic and services. Above ground, many of the
buildings are divided into three layers with a ground floor (and, in some cases,
first floor) for public uses, cafés and shops; several floors above these providing
offices; and the top few floors for housing, connected by pedestrian bridges
high above street level.6 The top layer also provides community facilities for
their residents, who are mostly higher-income residents. This layering is linked
to the high density of building, with 180,000 square metres of floor space built
above ground, and a gross density of 3.1 square metres of floor space per
square metre of development area.
Within the development, open space is entirely defined and enclosed by the
surrounding buildings, with the exception of the spaces linked to the fjord: the
dockside promenade, with its slight curving of the building line; and the main
square at the western end of the development (Bryggetortet). The area has
excellent views across the fjord and over water, along the edge promenade and
from the streets connected to this, as well as from the main square of
Bryggetortet. The different horizontal uses are visually expressed in changes of
materials and fenestration, as well as with setbacks in some cases. The
refurbished buildings and a preserved gate refer back to its earlier use as a
shipyard and also contribute to the sense of place. The development shows a
strong physical and visual connection to the water given by water sculptures,
street furniture and a repeated theme of stepping down the water’s edge of the
promenade (see Figure 9.4).
Throughout the development there is hard landscaping based on simple but
well-detailed stone and brick paving that is used to define areas and emphasize
routes. Well-designed and abundant changes in levels are also featured. Public
art is fully integrated with the landscaping scheme. Similar materials, textures
and colours are used in the buildings in order to provide coherence and unity
to quite different façade designs. Careful detail design contributes to the
perception of a high-quality area. The high-density grain helps to shelter spaces
from the wind. However, the high buildings block out sun from the main
streets, with sunshine being enjoyed during long periods along the promenade
and the main square (Gehl Architects, 1998).
The vertical layering of uses has resulted in a high density and diversity of
activities. Public spaces are heavily used, particularly during the summer, and
 successful place-making on the waterfront    163

Figure 9.4 View along promenade overlooking the fjord, Aker Brygge, Oslo
Source: Harry Smith

there is a variety of outdoor serving areas available which could potentially

cater for nearly 4000 people. Two permanent venues (a theatre and two cinema
screens) and the organization of specific events such as concerts in some of the
public areas contribute to its success. Social facilities are concentrated mainly
within the shared domain of the residential levels. The resulting lively
environment, however, also generates some conflicts between users (e.g.
regarding noise). Uses related to water have been retained in the area with the
location of the ferry terminal at the head of the promenade and the provision
of 250 small boat mooring berths along the dockside. The overall area provides
a sense of security, with the variety of activities and number of people in the
area contributing to this. There is a CCTV system in operation, run by the
area’s management company.
Aker Brygge development was initiated by the landowner, Aker Shipyards
(Aker AS) and supported by urban changes that were taking place in the city as
a whole. The development company Aker Brygge ANS was created as a
subsidiary, in partnership with a Norwegian bank. The idea of creating a
mixed-used area with high-quality public spaces was recognized in the land-use
plan for the Oslo waterfront prepared by the local authorities, and the objective
of creating a new living quarter informed the brief for an architectural
competition for the area. Development phases covered different areas and
suffered from financial crises and uncertainty involving various developers and
the creation of new subsidiary companies.7 However, all stages followed the
direction of a strong masterplan, which provided cohesion to the overall area.
164    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

In addition to five large companies, property owners include small business

and households. The development was divided into smaller units sold freehold
and condominium law was applied to provide common facilities. Landownership
was retained by the original landowner and leased. Each condominium has its
own board of directors and manager. Responsibility for public space is shared
by all property owners and managed through an overall management company,
in which they all have shares. The company takes on tasks usually performed
by local government, as well as providing an avenue for negotiation between
the different users (i.e. conflicts over noise levels).
The initial masterplan was prepared by the architectural firm Telje-Trop-
Aasen Arkitektkontor AS, with various other architects designing most of the
buildings during phase 1. Phase 2 was designed by Niels Torp AS, who also
redesigned the masterplan that was used for the following phases. The firm
appointed different design teams for the buildings in order to achieve a variety
of proposals, but retained some unity through the use of similar materials and
finishes. Detailed design of subsequent phases was carried out by different
architectural practices. The masterplan included a series of controls affecting
the public realm, which were the result of negotiations with the municipality.
Public space design was the responsibility of a single landscape architecture
firm (13.3 Landskapsarkitekter AS), who was also responsible for the design of
the public realm in the neighbouring Town Hall Square. This has enhanced
visual and physical continuity throughout the area (see Figure 9.5).
Aker Brygge has been successful in attracting large numbers of visitors
(5000 a day during the summer) due to the quality of its public spaces, the
variety of activities, the views afforded by its location, the multitude of uses
within the buildings, and its transport connections. The visionary masterplan,
based on compact city ideals, closely coordinating design of built elements and
landscape, together with complex development and management structures to
implement these even during periods of economic uncertainty, have all
contributed to this success.
In summary, the development has resulted in an area with a strong visual
identity, and has become a place in the collective unconscious of Oslo citizens,
who use it not only in passing to and from the city centre to other points around
the fjord, but also as a lively and interesting destination. It thus succeeds at the
micro- and meso-scales in terms of perceptions (individual, collective and in
terms of external political economic values). Arguably, this is due to both a well-
designed process and key coordination of detail design through the masterplan
and other procedural aspects of design and development (including on-going
management). It thus represents a designed and produced ‘place’ which has a
range of successful attributes that were carefully considered in the process – and
result from close collaboration between public and private action.

A place called home: Bo01 in Malmö

Malmö’s Bo01 waterfront development area is located to the north-west of the
city’s historical centre. This Western Harbour area took shape during the 20th
century and was constructed on land reclaimed from the sea until 1987, with the
infilling of the dock for shipyard activity. After a brief period of use of the Western
Harbour by SAAB as a production yard at the end of the 1980s, the SAAB factory
 successful place-making on the waterfront    165

Figure 9.5 Use of the public realm on the waterfront in Aker Brygge, Oslo
Source: © City of Oslo

closed down and the land and buildings were bought by the City of Malmö in
1996. Subsequently, all SAAB’s production buildings were transformed into trade
fair space and conference facilities (City of Malmö, 2005).
To kick-start the waterfront development, the Municipality of Malmö
proposed to relocate the Swedish International Housing Exhibition to the area,
and in 2001 the city hosted the European Housing Expo, called ‘The Ecological
City of Tomorrow’, supported by the Swedish government. The 25ha of
166    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

housing exhibition were only part of the Western Harbour, which comprises a
total of 140ha, and the development of the overall area is expected to continue
for about 30 years.
With total ownership of the land and the possibility of a fully in-house
planning process, the city’s objective was to use the Bo01 site as the physical
manifestation of new economic and social aims for Malmö, aiming to offer
attractive housing for young professionals, reduce the levels of unemployment,
and provide high standards of urban space and environmental sustainability.
As such, Malmö’s municipality has been the main actor in the development
of the Western Harbour area, establishing mechanisms to work in partnership
with developers and professionals in order to ensure high standards of
architectural and environmental quality. The Western Harbour masterplan was
proposed and revised by the municipality, while the developers who bought the
land undertook the design and construction according to the strict guidelines
laid down by the masterplan (Quality Management Programme Bo01, 1999).
Figure 9.6 shows the main landmark for the development, the Turning Torso.

Figure 9.6 The Turning Torso,

Malmö
Source: Soledad Garcia Ferrari
 successful place-making on the waterfront    167

With regards to management and implementation, since the municipality

owned the land, it was in an advantageous position to implement experimental
methods during the development process. A number of innovative processes for
participation were thus implemented, such as quality management programmes,
participatory project management tools, a planning forum and ‘dialogues’.8 In
particular for Bo01, the main objective was sustainable urban development,
and this was conducted through a comprehensive management programme
comprising guidelines for architectural quality, building materials, use of
energy, environmental issues, transport, etc. A unique aspect of the process of
development in Bo01 was that this quality programme was put in practice
before the sale of the land.
The Bo01 Expo company (Bo01 A/B) was wholly owned by Svenska
Bostadsmessa (SBAB), a non-profit organization formed by the Ministry of
Housing9 to stimulate the housing market. The Bo01 Expo company acted as a
coordinator of the developer’s group, which was chaired by the director of the
Malmö City Planning Office. Bo01 A/B comprised a staff of architects and
coordinators and acted as a consultant. However, in 2001, following unfruitful
attempts to recover from lack of private sponsorship, Bo01 declared bankruptcy.
This economic turndown did not affect the overall development in the long
term, but generated uncertainties surrounding the future of the area and
negatively affected the public image of the project. Although the housing
exhibition was not a financial success, the project appears to have been
successful in terms of architecture, sustainability and urban environment (see
Figure 9.7). By 2005, economic difficulties had been overcome and the
development advanced towards completion.
Significant for the development of the Western Harbour has been a series of
regional changes, which repositioned the city within its surrounding territory
and provided the opportunity for proposing ‘a new identity’, as explained by
Olsson and Rosberg (2005). The end of the shipbuilding industry during the
1980s coincided with the signing of the contract for building a link over Oresund
connecting the city with Copenhagen. At the time, high levels of unemployment
and economic difficulties had led to the loss of 30,000 jobs in the city between
1990 and 1993. In this context, the decision during the mid 1990s to establish
Malmö University in the inner harbour was significant from a strategic planning
point of view. The integration of the Malmö–Copenhagen region by the new
bridge has also favoured conditions for housing, employment, education and the
business sector; among these is the development of the Western Harbour.
The waterfront redevelopment is part of a wider regional strategy for better
transport connections and services for the city of Malmö, and the Western
Harbour project is part of a larger programme for regeneration, including the City
Tunnel connecting the Oresund Bridge with the central areas of the city and the
redevelopment of the southern areas, adjacent to the bridgehead. In this context,
the Bo01 aimed to create a new neighbourhood by the sea that could attract highly
skilled professionals in the framework of a change of perception of the city’s
identity, at a regional as well as local level, away from its industrial past and
leading to a ‘creative city’ based on a new economically sustainable cultural, urban
and social environment (i.e. helping the city to reinvent itself as a highly competitive
location in a regional and global context) (Olsson and Rosberg, 2005).
168    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

Figure 9.7 Domestic-

scale environment with
eco-houses, Malmö
Source: Soledad Garcia
Ferrari

The first stage of the Western Harbour development was focused on two
areas: the Bo01 in the north-west and the university in the south-west. The
university aimed to provide a long-term instrument for development and a new
engine for city development. The masterplan for Bo01, prepared by Professor
Klas Tham from Lund University, was based on a mixed-use development with
1000 residential units, and with offices and other services such as a school and
leisure centre. There were three main design strategies in the masterplan: to
create a surrounding area with high buildings in order to protect the inner areas
from strong sea winds; the inner streets always leading to buildings for wind
 successful place-making on the waterfront    169

protection; and the proposal of a 180m high landmark tower, the Turning
Torso, commissioned by the municipality from the Spanish architect Santiago
Calatrava and completed in 2005 (see Figure 9.6). The architects who
undertook the various parts of the project were chosen by the developers and
this choice had to be confirmed by Professor Klas Tham and the Malmö
Planning Department.
In addition to the guide on street grid, location of public spaces and
development areas indicated in the masterplan, a detailed colouring programme
for the façades was designed together with a green space programme. The
development of each area was planned to be implemented in phases. A significant
objective of the Western Harbour design has been the achievement of an
environmentally sustainable environment. Among the requirements was the
provision of green spaces, for which the masterplan indicated a need of 17
square metres of public green area and 12 square metres of private green area
for every inhabitant (Quality Management Programme Bo01, 1999). In addition,
100 per cent renewable energy sources were to be incorporated. This was
achieved by a combination of wind power (99 per cent of the needed electricity),
solar energy (1 per cent of the needed electricity and 12 per cent of the heating
power), heat pumps combined with aquifer reservoirs (85 per cent of the heating
energy) and bio-gas (3 per cent of the heating energy), resulting in 0 per cent
carbon dioxide emissions overall (Bo01 City of Tomorrow, 2001).
The waterfront boardwalk was designed as a public area and today includes
restaurants, cafés and shops, creating a lively urban environment (see Figure
9.8). The area has been adopted not only by its residents, but also by the city’s
population at large. The high level of public participation can also be seen as

Figure 9.8 Boardwalk

at Bo01, with medium-
rise perimeter buildings,
Malmö
Source: Harry Smith
170    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

an achievement of the project; however, the developers promoted the area as an

exclusive neighbourhood and the owners of the apartments have raised
complaints about the noise created by crowds along the sea front during the
summer. In meeting these complaints, the municipality proposed to build
alternative public spaces, further away from the housing, and a new island for
swimmers. Housing provided in the area is mainly focused on higher income
levels and there are future plans for incorporating social housing in order to
secure a wider social mix.
In conclusion, a strong place identity has been created in Bo01, with the
‘turning torso’ acting as a beacon that has put the city on the map for cruise
liners, the residential layout providing a distinctive living environment for
residents, and the promenade providing a new open space and place for Malmö
citizens – albeit contested in its use by neighbourhood residents and ‘outsiders’.
The success of place-making here has once again been the outcome of careful
consideration of macro-level issues in political-economic terms, and the success
has been linked to a city region development. In meso-level terms, the strong
design control and participation processes have helped to provide well-designed
spaces which residents and city dwellers enjoy, and at the micro-level there has
been considerable success in environmental terms; however, the perception of
users is perhaps more controversial.

Analysis: Who creates place? Why? For whom?

How?
As explained in the introduction to this chapter, three scales can be used to
assess aspects of place-making for waterfront developments: the macro-, meso-
and micro-scale. These scales relate to the different aspects of place and place-
making described in the literature review, from more perceptual approaches to
place identity and place attachment, to managerial and implementation
strategies interlinking different geographical scales in the development
process.
In relation to the macro-scale, the waterfront cases presented here are the
result of different sets of objectives. In the case of Gateshead Quays, the place-
making policy led by the local authority was aimed at putting the place ‘on the
map’ at a regional (North and England), national (UK) and even international
level. Actions were focused on strategically assessing demands for certain
functions across the UK and targeting certain funds that could be accessed. The
outcome reflects a set of iconic built environment elements which are the main
focus of the overall waterfront design and have influenced the rapid rise in land
value, and subsequent flow of private investment in order to complete more
recent phases of the development – business, retail, residential, etc. This process
led to a development that lacked masterplanning and made evident the fact that
the key building functions were the predominant nature of the whole ‘Gateshead
Quays place’.
On the other hand, Aker Brygge was primarily linked to the needs of this
space within the city and its region, influencing, in particular, local migrations
with the offer of an upmarket inner-city location for living, as well as for
 successful place-making on the waterfront    171

recreational use. Some larger-scale regional and national strategies also

influenced the success of the development and intensified commercial and
recreational use, such as the decision to move one of the busiest passenger ferry
terminals in Norway to the entrance of the development area, together with
other decisions related to linking local transport. The need to focus on the
place itself was manifest in the process in Aker Brygge, which was the result of
long-term masterplanning, including uses, building form and public spaces.
Here the meso- and micro-level processes and products have been the main
focus, although the development does also demonstrate success at a macro-
level.
The case of Malmö can be identified as another example of place-making,
with deliberate links between the micro-, meso- and macro-scales. Here,
however, major urban structural changes taking place at a regional level had
framed the way in which the city transformed itself, including the redefinition
of its identity within the Oresund region. At the same time, significant social
and spatial problems at the local scale influenced the development of new
places in the city, which aimed to ensure social and physical sustainability with
the provision of new public spaces and cultural hubs, as well as with the
provision of zero-carbon emission zones. The local authority, the main actor
leading the development of the Western Harbour, took the opportunity of
national strategies linked to regional changes in order to bid for funding, as
well as to create processes which ensured the quality of the places created. In
addition, the success of the development relied on the level of trust from citizens
and investors during times of economic uncertainty, and the various mechanisms
for negotiation and participation here played a key role.
With regards to place-making, all three cases have been successful at the
macro-scale, creating a destination for the city, the region and even the nation.
At the meso-scale, however, there appears to be more disconnections in the case
of Gateshead Quays, where the waterfront area appears to be better positioned
in relation to Newcastle than to the centre of Gateshead. Whereas transport,
pedestrian and visual barriers characterize the Gateshead Quays area, Aker
Brygge is not only positioned in a key location in the centre of Oslo, but this
has also been reinforced by decisions on new integrated transport routes
(motorway tunnels, tramlines and ferry terminal). These links are enhanced by
good visual connections across the city hall square, which in itself acts as an
urban focal point.
In the case of Malmö’s Western Harbour, the municipality put very
influential transport strategies in place. Incorporating the university within the
development of one of the most attractive areas in the city on the sea front,
integrating this new function with the core of the city, and replacing the lost
building and car industries by a new ‘development engine’ were strategies for
positioning the city in the regional scene. These strategies show major
achievements at the meso-scale, reinforcing significant macro-scale infrastructural
changes in the whole city in relation to the Oresund link.
In the cases of Malmö and Gateshead, and due to the unique location of the
waterfront developments within these cities, it is unlikely that internal changes
in design and development process (i.e. at the meso-scale) could have influenced
the overall success of development and levels of investment expected in the
172    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

future. However, the case of Aker Brygge might be more vulnerable to other
developments in the city, particularly along the waterfront, such as the area of
the new Opera House, which has become an alternative urban focal point on
the opposite site of Oslo city centre. The Oslo waterfront, is in fact, very
extensive, due partly to the nature of the fjord, and achieving success at the
level of Aker Brygge for the whole waterfront area will be a challenge in itself
and may affect the outcome of this initial state of regeneration.
Within the micro-scale of place-making, this chapter refers to the aspects
of waterfront spaces that make areas feel more ‘comfortable’, ‘inviting’,
‘attractive’ and potentially generate a sense of place attachment. Place-making
at this scale is about the design of the buildings and the spaces in between
these, including the public realm. The sense of place also depends upon other
aspects, such as the way in which the existing heritage remains or is
reinterpreted in the area, the sense of security of the waterfront, and the uses
and activities given to different parts in the development. While this needs
careful local input for a fuller analysis, an initial assessment has been made
here by the authors.
In the case of Gateshead Quays, the spaces between the iconic buildings (the
main focus for place-making at the macro-scale) were not treated as a whole in
terms of urban design and landscape. As a result, these spaces are overshadowed
by the main buildings. However, this is possibly a temporary condition as a
more complex set of external and internal spaces is envisaged once other
buildings are developed in the main site between the Sage and BALTIC, and the
incorporation of other uses, such as housing, office and retail, is expected to
provide a more dynamic urban space.
The introduction to this chapter states that place-making is also dependent
upon communication and participatory mechanisms, and again it is not clear
in Gateshead Quays to what extent the development included social, economic
and cultural groups at local and city-region levels in the decision-making and
implementation processes. However, in terms of the way in which the resulting
place is perceived, transformations in the area represent an enormous
improvement; hence, the waterfront is now recognized in the regional and even
national scene.
Aker Brygge, on the other hand, experienced a more integrated design
process with a strong masterplan and a limited number of key designers. The
spaces between the buildings have been the focus of a much more complex
design strategy, including more uses and activities, as well as more intricate
connections between types of spaces and its use comprising public and
communal areas. The overall quality and attention to design, including
materials and form, are evident in the Aker Brygge area. In the case of the Bo01
in Malmö’s Western Harbour, the quality of design is also carefully detailed on
the masterplan beyond aspects related to the buildings, form and materials, to
more specific technical requirements for creating a sustainable environment
with zero carbon emissions. In this case, public spaces are also carefully located
and designed, interlinking the different uses in the waterfront area. Here, much
more explicit emphasis on wider participation in the process was built in from
the start, although the main user population is again a rather privileged social
group.
 successful place-making on the waterfront    173

What can we learn from waterfront place-making?

Analysing these three waterfront case studies permits us to draw some general
conclusions on successful place-making regarding waterfronts, which can have
validity beyond such areas in other urban regeneration/design iniatives. First, in
relation to the normative approach to place identity that is found in current
place-making design guidance, it is clear that appropriate design strategies and
processes are only part of the equation, with the social, political and economic
contexts being a strong conditioner of success of both process and outcomes.
The examples seen in this chapter show that resources, rules and ideas in any
given context have a strong bearing on successful place-making predominantly
at the meso-level; however, the most successful places also consider deliberate
integrative strategies at the macro-level.
At the macro- and meso-levels, issues of power are seen to operate across
all three scales. The reconfiguration of the identities of Gateshead (through
culture and the arts) and Malmö (through its repositioning in the regional
transport network and its waterfront redevelopment) is changing regional
dynamics and the balance of economic and social power at the macro-level,
with potential political consequences as well. All three, though perhaps most
obviously in the case of Aker Brygge, created powerful attractors at the meso-
level, with social and economic activity patterns across all three cities being
consequently altered. Power issues are also evident at the micro-level (e.g. in the
contested use and appropriation of the promenade in Bo01 by different
groups).
Vision and leadership are key resources that have been essential to the
success of the cases examined in this chapter. Continuity of objectives and
intentions through overall strategies and physical masterplanning also play a
positive influence on the creation of successful places, balanced with sufficient
flexibility to grasp opportunities and to adapt to changing circumstances. Such
overall strategies need to address the role that the new ‘place’ may have in the
context of the city as a whole, or even the region (i.e. the meso- and macro-
scales). This involves, among other factors, understanding the infrastructure
connections, such as major transport routes and interchanges and how the new
‘place’ may link into these, as well as the function that the area may have within
this wider context.
However, the functionality and success of the development as a place will
ultimately depend upon how its users relate to it – also at the meso- and micro-
levels. This requires identifying who these users are or will be, and creating the
conditions for the creation of places which they will use and enjoy using –
places to which they may grow attached in various ways. A key factor here can
be the use of dialogue and participation processes that involve existing and
potential ‘communities’ in decision-making. The way in which urban changes
are communicated to such communities may also have an effect on the
perceived identity of the places that result. The implementation of participatory
processes in the regeneration of waterfront areas can, however, confront
particular problems, such as the absence of an existing resident community – as
illustrated in other chapters in this book. In this case, the creation of place
includes the generation of a new identity which may draw on historic memory,
174    maria soledad garcia ferrari, paul jenkins and harry smith

on innovation or on a combination of both. Not all successful waterfronts,

however, thus have, or can have, such processes – and here it is important that
the development agencies reflect adequately on the potential user communities
and what can be crucial to their engagement with the product. Learning from
other waterfronts is a key action here, as long as this is adequately contextualized –
something for which this book provides a unique resource.
Time is also a key ingredient in the creation of a successful place. Residential
developments require time for new residents to develop their sense of ‘place
attachment’, and success at micro-levels cannot be assessed in the short term.
However, wider meso-scale place attachment can be stimulated successfully by
flagship developments that turn a non-place into a place in the minds of the
wider citizenry in a relatively short space of time, as seen in the arts- and
culture-led regeneration in Gateshead. Thus, although the integrated approaches
of Aker Brygge and Bo01 have ‘created place’ more fully than the approach at
Gateshead, the meso-level can also be important for this aspect of place
identity.
Finally, good design is a key ingredient in successful place-making on the
waterfront in different ways. Design as a tool is perhaps most obvious in iconic
buildings, and while good urban design may not be so obvious, it is essential in
the creation of public spaces and mixes of uses that will contribute to the
liveliness of new urban areas such as in Aker Brygge, or the residents’ quality
of life in places such as Bo01. Key here is deliberate design of the spaces
between the buildings and ensuring that a sensitive and coordinated design
approach reflects the wider ethos of the area and of user communities (dwellers
and others). In this, available and realized design approaches and options
depend upon a good understanding of the relevant sociocultural milieu and
socio-economic conditions.
In conclusion, any waterfront development would benefit from developing
a clear vision and strategy with regards to the various aspects of place-making –
political, phenomenological and normative – and appropriate tactics and
timing with regard to the scale at which each of these aspects is to be addressed.
Ideas and discourses (of all kinds) have a key role to play in achieving this, not
least through design strategies, which are discussed in the next chapter.

Notes
1� Hernández et al (2007, p.310) define ‘place attachment’ as ‘the affective link that people
establish with specific settings, where they tend to remain [or return to] and where they feel
comfortable and safe’.
2� Proshansky (1978, p.147) describes ‘place identity’ as ‘those dimensions of self that define the
individual’s personal identity in relation to the physical environment’.
3� Karlyn Sutherland is a Part II architect working on a design-based PhD in Architecture at
Edinburgh College of Art. Her work focuses on translating theories of place attachment from
environmental psychology into an architectural design methodology. Her thesis is expected to
be published by March 2012.
4� This is within the core Gateshead Quays area in the Tyne Gorge. Other developments beyond
the High Level Bridge (such as Tyne Bridge Hilton International Hotel) or not within the
gorge (such as Baltic Business Park) are linked to Gateshead Quays’ regeneration, but have
not been considered within this study.
 successful place-making on the waterfront    175

5� Gateshead Central Area: The Public Realm (2003) and a masterplan for Gateshead Quays
(RMJM et al, 2010).
6� Offices provide 86,000 square metres of floor space, and shops and restaurants 24,000 square
metres of floor space, which together provide around 5000 jobs. Residential use consists of
383 apartments ranging from 40 to 50 square metres in size (Gehl Architects, 1998).
7� Phase 1 (1985–1986) covered the blocks closest to the city centre and involved the
refurbishment of two existing buildings and the erection of the ‘gateway’ building on the
corner facing the Town Hall Square. During phase 2 (1989) the same company extended
the development towards the south-west, along the dockside and incorporating the large
central public space. This phase was affected by the market collapse and properties sold at a
loss. Phase 3 (1991) comprised the large mixed-use block forming the southern corner of the
development. This was developed by a subsidiary of DnB (Stranden AS) after Aker Brygge
ANS had sold the development. This again was sold at a loss. Phase 4 (1998) filled in the
western edge between the initial development and the route of the former east–west motorway
through Oslo, completed by yet another developer (Storebrand).
8� Among these is Q-books, which is a quality management programme to establish a platform
for discussions between all stakeholders. The Q-books programme not only focuses on
strategic decisions, but is also concerned with building issues such as parks, streets, quays, etc.
LOTS project management is also a mechanism based on participation and discussion among
stakeholders on specific issues, but organized through parallel focused working groups and
within a more informal framework. The Urban Planning Forum West Harbour is also a
neutral meeting place for landowners, developers, business owners and city officials, where
issues regarding the development are proposed and discussed, including specific workshops
and exhibitions. The Build-Live Dialogue focuses on the continuation of sustainability, also
based upon discussion opportunities among companies, municipality and the national
government.
9� National Board of Housing, Building and Planning.
10
Design Strategies for Urban
Waterfronts
The Case of Sluseholmen in
Copenhagen’s Southern Harbour
Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari and Derek Fraser

Introduction
As presented earlier in this book, economic changes created the conditions for
significant spatial transformations in waterfronts and port areas, where large
portions of land have been left derelict, bringing about new opportunities for
regeneration and redevelopment. Local, regional, national and occasionally
transnational authorities and organizations play an important role in these
complex processes, which require vision, negotiation, participation, public and
private investment, consensus on design strategies, etc. Building on the cases
discussed in this book, this chapter discusses the relationship between the
processes of waterfront development and the design strategies adopted in the
case of Sluseholmen in Copenhagen.
Copenhagen’s waterfront1 presents an interesting case study in the sense
that the design strategies and development process are closely linked to recent
strategic changes in the approach to development along the waterfront taken
by the City of Copenhagen authorities. These changes were in response to
controversies and public criticism over waterfront development in the central
area of the city at the end of the 1990s. The resulting debate increased
awareness of the solutions proposed, as well as recognition of the need for a
more carefully considered approach to the design proposals and masterplan
strategies for waterfront development. In particular, and following discussions
over the high-profile central harbour site south of the Royal Library, with its
much acclaimed new extension (the ‘Black Diamond, 1995’), the city realized
the importance of achieving better-quality design solutions, extending strategic
masterplanning into a wider region, generating debate over design for specific
areas and widening involvement to international contributors.
In both the northern and southern harbours, two Dutch consultants were
invited to contribute to the discussions. This was a brave approach and also
178    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

slightly controversial within the Danish architecture community. Both Dutch

architect/masterplanners were known internationally for their pioneering work
in the Java Island and the Borneo developments in the Amsterdam Eastern
Docklands: Adrian Geuze of West 8 for Borneo/Sporenburg and Sjoerd Soeters
of Soeters Van Eldonk Ponec for Java Island. Although both architects initially
looked at both locations, Geuze became responsible for the northern harbour
and Soeters for the southern. The final design solution for Sluseholmen takes
some of the initial ideas tested in Amsterdam and develops a specific design
answer for Copenhagen. The proposal deals head on with a number of key
issues facing contemporary urban design and place-making, not least of which
is how to create a new neighbourhood offering a rich variety of building
façades in a street-style frontage, within the fast timescale of modern
construction. Given that the final design implemented has been met with very
positive reactions from professionals and public alike, and has been recognized
with awards,2 it deserves to be analysed in detail.
This chapter discusses how the design strategies adopted were the result of
productive interactions among all parties involved and how the positive result in
terms of successful place-making is related to significant changes in development
and implementation processes. However, regarding the design solution, the
Sluseholmen development has also met with some criticism from the architecture
community concerning a lack of integrity or ethics because the variety of façades
proposed does not express the repetition of apartment layouts. It is interesting to
note that in many cases of Baroque or Georgian city designs, the emphasis was
often put on the design of façades or unified ‘palace’ street frontages, which
served a ‘civic’ function, above and beyond that of the function behind the
façade. It could be argued that although Sluseholmen inverts this concept by
having uniform residential form fronted by a variety of different façades, it
clearly regards the art of ‘place-making’ as more important than creating a
collection of individual buildings. This debate brings into focus differences of
opinion between the ‘modernists’ and ‘traditionalists’ in theories of architecture
and urban design. Sluseholmen, however, deals with the polemic by blending
together aspects of both the modern and the traditional. It is also apparent in the
case of Sluseholmen that the new residents have chosen to live there because of
its unique connection with the water. Surprisingly for such a water-based city,
Copenhagen offers very few opportunities for real interaction with it, and
perhaps it took the eye of an outsider such as Soeters – from a country with
substantial experience in creating areas for living along waterfronts – to realize
this and help to deliver such an innovative and successful design solution.
The analysis of the Sluseholmen case presented below will focus on the design
strategies, which – grounded in the theory explained earlier in this book – are
contextualized in this particular development processes. The intention is then to
understand these processes by looking at the different types of relations between
resources, regulations and ideologies. The investigation questions the connections,
interactions and influences between design solutions and development processes.
Furthermore, it asks: can we reflect on the perceived achievements of the design
strategies set up by the different sectors involved in the process?
A number of semi-structured interviews were undertaken during the
research process upon which this chapter is based, where three key areas of
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    179

questions were formulated in relation to vision, process and post-completion

reflection. These aimed to canvas views from all sectors involved, such as
designers, planners and developers. Some users were contacted informally
during the visit to the site; however, the objective is to follow on this research
with a second stage when the same set of questions will be proposed to users
in order to gain knowledge on what their vision and objectives are, and how
these are perceived to have been achieved.
The following section focuses on the initial stages of redevelopment along
the city’s waterfront and reflects upon some case studies and debates over their
quality in terms of both design and place-making.

The redevelopment of the Copenhagen waterfront

since the late 1970s
In order to provide a context to the specific area of study, this section presents
an overview of development in Copenhagen’s waterfront and, in more detail,
the masterplan strategies for the southern part of the waterfront area. The aim
is to explain how a change of attitude in the development process for waterfront
areas has contributed to the level of success of some recent sectors in
Copenhagen’s waterfront.
Copenhagen3 city is bisected by its harbour, creating a complex waterfront
area and presenting various areas with different types of relationships with the
water and the rest of the city. The port itself assumed most of its current form
during the 1900 to 1920 period, when the Free Port was extended and the
south harbour added. The functioning of the port has undergone significant
changes during the last 30 years, resulting in the abandonment of large areas of
port activities due to industrial transformations and the increase in the use of
shipping containers. At the end of the 1970s, national and local authorities
began to consider these large disused areas to be significant opportunities for
urban redevelopment.
During the 1970s, a period of economic decline in Copenhagen, together
with significant changes in the industrial harbour areas, led the Danish
government and the Municipality of Copenhagen to undertake a number of
initiatives in order to identify waterfront problems and to seek possible
solutions. In 1972, Denmark’s adviser on aesthetic and architectural matters
(Akademirådet) organized an architectural competition for the development of
the docks, which by the end of the 1970s generated a public debate concerning
the future of the port areas and the waterfront (Hansen et al, 2001). This
debate raised an issue that has been central to discussions ever since: whether
port areas should be developed according to a comprehensive plan or left to the
discretion of individual landowners (Desfor and Jorgensen, 2004). Although
the recommendation from the Akademirådet was very much for the development
of a comprehensive plan, the actual process followed a different path.
During the 1980s, the need for government intervention in Copenhagen in
order to overcome the economic crisis increased, and national authorities began
to discuss the future of the city. A report presented by the Danish Parliament
entitled The Capital: What Should We Do About It?4 is evidence of this,
describing 20 key points for the future development of the city in becoming an
180    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

international centre able to attract new investments. Amongst these key points
were the improvement of higher education and cultural institutions, the
establishment of a fixed link to Sweden, the expansion of the airport, the planning
of the Ørestad area, and the development of harbour areas. These new policies
were justified by the need to compete successfully on an international stage – an
approach to urban development that differs from previous strategies – which
were more oriented towards the national scene (Desfor and Jorgensen, 2004).
National involvement on Copenhagen waterfront can be observed with the
creation of a specific committee (Copenhagen Harbour Committee)5 set up by
the Danish Parliament in 1987, with the objectives of studying alternative
frameworks for the port areas by identifying port boundaries and considering
financing models for possible development schemes. The City of Copenhagen
declined to have a representative on this committee, expressing doubts about
the use of its findings for the city’s forthcoming 1989 plan (Desfor and
Jorgensen, 2004). There were political and ideological differences between the
city and the national government, with the city under the control of the ‘New
Left’, while a liberal–conservative coalition ruled the country.
The Copenhagen Harbour Committee published its report in April 1989
with the recommendation that port activities should be concentrated in the
northern harbour, while housing, office, commercial, cultural, entertainment
and recreational activities were to be located in the inner and southern
harbours. In addition, this report suggested the establishment of a new
organization to manage waterfront developments that would be based on a
partnership between the Danish government, the Municipality of Copenhagen
and the Port Authority. Finally, in May 1989 the government announced that
the navy would be moving its facilities from the inner harbour on Holmen,
vacating 70ha of prime waterfront land and creating the possibility of a range
of alternative uses.
In 1992 the government proposed the creation of an administration with
responsibility for both the management and conversion of port areas. A specific
law established that, initially, the Port Authority of Copenhagen, besides
running the port, should also direct and run the redevelopment of the harbour
areas no longer used for port activities. It also defined the composition of the
organization’s board of directors6 and determined that the port had to remain
a self-governing institution.7
Although the 1990s were characterized by renewed economic growth, there
were high levels of unemployment, particularly in Copenhagen.8 In order to
overcome this, the actions undertaken by the city tended to be based on selling
the land that it owned, leaving powerful economic forces to come into play and
opening up opportunities for privately funded developments. These
uncoordinated actions were possible because of the lack of agreement on a
unified masterplan for the harbour, as well as economic pressures on the city.
The solutions adopted often lacked an agreed design strategy and could be seen
as isolated developments with little connection to the urban dynamics of the
city (Garcia Ferrari, 2006).
In 2000, by Act of Parliament, the government finally transformed the Port
Authority of Copenhagen into a publicly owned limited liability corporation –
the Port of Copenhagen Company (Københavns Havn A/S). At this point the
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    181

Copenhagen Harbour Committee ceased to operate. The government

subsequently transferred the port’s assets to Københavns Havn A/S. In 2001,
another new organization was established, Copenhagen Malmø Port AB
(CMP), to operate the port and terminal activities of both Malmø and
Copenhagen. This company is a Danish/Swedish harbour enterprise, the
central harbour operator in the Øresund region. Since 2007, the Danish part
of CMP has been owned by CPH City and Port Development (By & Havn).
The latter was founded in 2007 when Københavns Havn A/S and the Ørestad
Development Corporation I/S merged. CPH City and Port Development (By &
Havn) are now owned by the City of Copenhagen (55 per cent) and the state
(45 per cent).9
The role of the Port of Copenhagen Company (Københavns Havn A/S) has
been very significant for the initial stages of development of the city’s waterfront.
The company owned approximately 4000ha of land. This organization –
supported by its board of directors, a combination of local politicians, state
representatives and prominent industrialists – acted as a private sector
establishment following the needs and fluctuations of the market. Under this
perspective the company was not initially interested in the development of a
comprehensive municipal plan since that plan could go against its freedom to
develop sites for purchase and sale, which was a very profitable activity (Garcia
Ferrari, 2006).
The Municipality of Copenhagen, on the other hand, had originally not
managed to adopt a unified position regarding the creation of a comprehensive
waterfront plan, and had supported a number of individual private initiatives,
which led to largely fragmented developments usually initiated by the private
sector. Desfor and Jorgensen (2004) link this lack of unanimity to a fractured
process of planning in Danish local government during the 1990s. With regard
to the waterfront, there are three major departments with responsibility for
urban planning: Financial Directorate, Building and Construction Administration
and the Department of the Environment. Each has its own bureaucratic
procedures and political aims. More fundamentally, the municipality did not
have a clear incentive to exercise its waterfront planning powers because of the
perceived exceptional status of the Port of Copenhagen Company (Desfor and
Jorgensen, 2004).
The municipality stated that it had encouraged the initiatives for the
development of the waterfront in a response to more recent industrial changes
with the emergence of new enterprises, such as in the information technology
(IT) sector (Garcia Ferrari, 2006). However, early in the 2000s a zoning plan
for the harbour area was presented by the municipality promoting the
development of new housing projects, and expressing the need to build 2000,
900 and 5000 units, respectively, in the northern, inner and southern harbours
(Københavns Havn Blue Plan, 2005).10
An example of development process during this initial stage of waterfront
regeneration in Copenhagen is the Kalvebod Brygge development, on land
owned by the City of Copenhagen. This scheme was widely perceived by both
the general public and leading politicians as having been flawed and sparked an
intense debate. The predominance of large office buildings prevented easy
pedestrian access to the waterfront and blocked views of the water that city
182    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

dwellers had come to expect. It was specifically this public outcry over the
Kalvebod Brygge development that led politicians to realize that discussions
needed to take place for the future redevelopment of the harbour, which
included the concerns of all actors involved and considered the aims and
expectations of both the private sector and civil society.
In this context, major criticism was directed at the lack of long-term
planning and strategies for transforming large-scale areas. As a response to the
extreme fragmentation in the initial stages of development of the waterfront
areas (such as Kalvebod Brygge), together with the absence of a unified plan for
the harbour, an ad hoc organization – Vision Group (Steering Committee for
Harbour Development) – was created in 1999, bringing together politicians
and bureaucrats from the state and the municipality.11 The objective of this
committee was to oversee the waterfront developments with the specific task of
ensuring that the experience of Kalvebod Brygge development would not
reoccur, while at the same time bringing stability to a turbulent political and
fractured economic situation (Desfor and Jorgensen, 2004). The overall aim of
this organization was to ensure ‘high-quality development’ in the waterfront
area, searching for coherency in urban public policy. High-quality development
involved aspects of design, place-making and community-building (Københavns
Havn Plan-Vision 2010, 1999).
Contrary to the idea of designing a comprehensive plan, ‘focus areas’ were
identified by the Port of Copenhagen and the Vision Group, with the aim of
providing flexibility to the planning and design process and to include the
strategic objectives and needs of developers, investors, architects and planners
in a more ‘developer-friendly’ process. This process, however, appeared to be
focused mainly on participation from the different groups of political
institutions involved and on developers, rather than on the residents or existing
small businesses.
The Vision Group actions therefore show the beginning of a planning
strategy taking place in tandem with the regular planning process, which by law
is the responsibility of local government. The spatial objectives initiated by the
Vision Group can be observed in the most recent developments. In particular,
development is to promote ‘spatial quality’, which is expected to better attract
investment and people. In this sense, the Copenhagen waterfront developments
are presented as an alternative for those leaving the city’s central areas for
quieter suburbs. The slogan ‘quality developments’ presented in the Plan-Vision
document reflects the aim of an emerging model for property-based capital
accumulation (Københavns Havn Plan-Vision 2010, 1999).
Along with the disagreements and debate, during the process of developing
Copenhagen’s waterfront since the 1990s symbolic buildings such as the new
Museum of Modern Art (The Ark, 1996), the annex to the Royal Library (the
Black Diamond, 1995) and the new Opera House (2004) have emerged along
the waterfront as isolated icons. With regards to land use, at the end of the
1990s one of the aims that began to emerge was to promote a mix of office
buildings and housing. However, this also caused controversy. While, at the end
of the 1990s, office building construction was more profitable than housing in
Copenhagen, the municipality considered that its housing stock needed to be
improved. The need for housing, however, also reflects the overall aim of
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    183

economic growth, since the units provided are expected to compete in an

international market and to attract key workers and young professionals
(Københavns Havn, 2001). This is particularly reflected by the new typologies
proposed for the Sluseholmen area, with the provision of ‘water dwellings’
(Københavns Havn, 2001).
The case of Sluseholmen, explained in the next section, is the result of a
more integrated approach to developing the waterfront and closer negotiation
between the city, the port and the developers. This case is also significant in
understanding the design strategies promoted by these sectors. Sluseholmen is
also a good example to analyse the links between these strategies and the
development process, which in this case appear to be woven into the priorities
of all stakeholders.

The case of the Sluseholmen development

The Port of Copenhagen stretches 12km from north to south and includes
almost 40km of quays. The waterfront area is divided into four zones: the north
harbour (Nordhavnen), including Southern Freeport (Sondre Frihavnen –
southern part of the north harbour), the East Harbour (Østhavnen/Provestenen),
the central harbour (Inderhavnen, including Kalvebod Brygge) and the south
harbour (Sydhavnen) (see Figure 10.1). Since the mid 1980s, commercial traffic
has been concentrated in the north and east harbours. In these areas new
operating techniques have been available and old quays and warehouses
restored. The new port, in the north and east harbours, has over 700 leaseholds
and extends over 4 million square metres (Københavns Havn, 2001).
In the North Harbour Freeport, the area around Amerika Plads was
masterplanned by Adrian Geuze for a new district holding 500 housing units,
50,000 square metres of commercial properties and a new ferry passenger
terminal. A landmark of this area is the 16-storey high Copper Tower (2004 by
Arkitema). The north harbour around Århusgade is still being developed and
the area plan includes 2000 homes and 200,000 square metres of commercial
buildings.
South of the Black Diamond, in the central harbour area, development
followed a more commercial and business approach. This waterfront site,
consisting of a narrow strip of land between the harbour and the highway
called Kalvebod Brygge, was judged not suited for housing because of the
traffic noise. Originally owned by the municipality, it was sold to a Swedish
development/construction company, which constructed a row of office buildings
and a shopping mall (Fisketorvet) during the 1990s. The scheme generated
negative criticism about the architectural quality of the new buildings and of
absence of ‘life’ on the promenades. Debates concluded that the requirements
in the local plan of 1990 had not been adequate enough to secure a high-quality
development. In 2004, during the second phase of development for the area
around the shopping mall, the same developers adopted a masterplan by the
Swedish architect Gert Wingårdh, which includes a pedestrian bridge across the
harbour, an outdoor swimming pool and high-quality residential buildings.
This has proved to be more successful.
184    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

Figure 10.1 Plan of

Copenhagen showing four
main harbour areas
Source: Copenhagen Planning
Department, 2010

Further south from this is the southern harbour and the redevelopment of
the old industrial area where Sluseholmen is located. Due to the move of the
port activities to the north harbour, the remaining functions in the southern
area consist of scrap yards, empty factories and derelict industrial land, which
presented the city with a tough challenge and took longer to be phased into the
city’s programme of expansion and redevelopment.
Copenhagen city planners initially sketched a series of objectives for the
area, mostly based on increasing the provision of housing (primarily low cost).
Later the city introduced a masterplanning stage into the planning approvals
process, demanding a more detailed series of requirements, which resulted in a
series of revised plans in consultation with the firm of architects Souters Van
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    185

Eldonk Ponec. The later masterplan created a vision for dense, urban
waterfront/canal-side living with high-quality housing, as well as schools,
workplaces, shops, public transport, roads and services. The southern harbour
masterplan predominantly uses perimeter blocks surrounded by canals linked
to a new north–south route connecting the disparate parts of the area (see
Figure 10.2). Given the apparent success of the Sluseholmen project and others,
it could be argued, therefore, that the southern harbour has benefited from the
experience gained and the mistakes made in the areas developed earlier without
a clear vision or agreed masterplan.
From the city planners’ point of view, within the south harbour, the
Sluseholmen area became the exemplar or ideal urban design model,
demonstrating what can be done to create an attractive place to overcome
Copenhageners’ prejudice against this unattractive industrial area. The city’s
investment in this project illustrates how high-quality design can have a positive
influence on a challenging area from the perception of quality of life and
liveability.

Figure 10.2 South

Harbour masterplan
Source: Copenhagen
Planning Department, 2010
186    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

The vision for Sluseholmen12

The interviews with the various stakeholders revealed that the development of a
vision for Sluseholmen evolved as the main expectations were revisited and
refined after the initial start. Since the existing south industrial harbour operations
were declining during the 1990s and businesses began to withdraw, the city
planners’ original development framework for the wider region, set out in 1999,
was for 9000 residential units and 20,000 workplaces. The Sluseholmen
development was then intended to be predominantly residential, covering 133,000
square metres and with 20,000 square metres of commercial area consisting of a
supermarket and two small shops (a café and convenience store) located along the
main access road adjacent to the new harbour link bridge (completed in 2011)
(see Figure 10.3). However, Sluseholmen should be understood in the wider
context, where other uses and services are provided. The overall masterplan for
the wider south harbour area proposes a mix of commercial areas (workplaces
and shops), schools (kindergarten and lower school) and leisure facilities.
Following a process of discussion with potential developers and designers, it
became clear that the particular problems with the Sluseholmen area, linked to
its industrial past, required more careful consideration if the expectations of
creating residential areas were to be met. Only after the involvement of the
consultant Sjoerd Soeters and the approval of a more detailed comprehensive
masterplan for the entire south harbour were the expectations for the area agreed
upon. It is important to highlight that the development company involved at this
stage, Sjælsø, was also involved in the building of the new business park in the
south-western edge of the south harbour (Teglværkshaven, 2005–2008), and for
that reason it was invited to participate from the discussions.

Figure 10.3
Sluseholmen masterplan
Source: Project
development director of
Sjælsø Danmark A/S, 2010
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    187

Initially, it was felt by the developers that the site of Sluseholmen would
only be suitable for low-cost housing as it was part of a large derelict industrial
harbour with very poor connections to the city centre. Expectations changed
after a year or so when the city adopted a new strategy of ‘high-quality design’.
The final masterplan enabled a more upmarket private ownership to become
feasible.
A leading principle in the design strategy was to create the image of a
coherent district, but also to give the individual houses an identity of their own.
However, the final tactics adopted to meet such aims took a while to emerge.
After the early period (1999 to 2000), and following many discussions and
debates about the varying quality of the central harbour developments, it was
agreed that an improved strategic approach was required for the northern and
southern harbours. Since the city was keen to get the best results for all of their
new harbour developments, they invited a number of experts from abroad for
consultations before appointing the two Dutch architect/masterplanners,
Adrian Geuze (West 8) and Sjoerd Soeters (Soeters Van Eldonk Ponec).
For this exercise in masterplanning, various partnerships were formed with
city planners, architects, developers and the newly formed Harbour Authority
(By & Havn). Visits were made to various locations around the world to seek
good examples, as well as not so successful examples, to learn from. However,
all of the parties involved in this study made it clear that the intention was not
just to lift and transport an existing solution, but to help the team find an
appropriate one for Copenhagen. The final designs adopted for the north
harbour by Geuze were based on high-density mixed use, and those for the
south harbour (and Sluseholmen) by Soeters on canal-side living.
The emerging main aims of the city were to allow a southern expansion of
the city centre into a redundant industrial harbour. From the developers’ point
of view, one of the main objectives was to achieve a design strategy, which
would overcome the reality that ‘nobody wanted to live there’. For the design
of Sluseholmen, two important influences from the Amsterdam Eastern
Docklands were Java Island (by Soeters) and Borneo Sporenburg (by West 8).
Achieving a high-quality design solution was seen by the city as a possible
strategy to repopulate the area. From the developers’ and designers’ perspective,
this could be achieved by maximizing access to the water and taking advantage
of proposing other possible uses and activities in the emerging neighbourhood.
In addition, the perimeter block typology, with streets, courtyards and basement
parking, provided an answer to the strategic aim of the design team to seek a
dense urban solution. This typology has the bonus of enabling the introduction
of a network of canals running through the development, which provide direct
access to water to a large number of dwellings.
The Danish architects Arkitema, chosen by the developers to work with
Soeters on Sluseholmen, carried out initial feasibility studies to see how many
units could be realized on the site in order to achieve commercial viability. This
showed that a built floor area of 135,000 square metres over the 7.16ha of the
site would provide around 1310 residential units. Apartments were initially
based on a total floor area of between 80 to 90 square metres, but grew by an
additional 5 to 10 square metres towards the later phases of the development
when confidence in the market increased. This density plus the canal concept
188    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

was then adopted as part of the city’s local development plan for Sluseholmen.
Given the radical nature of the design development process, Arkitema believes
that tactically it was a good move by the city to invite a foreign lead architect
consultant as it meant that more people in authority were inclined to listen and
agree.
The overall plan layout for Sluseholmen consists of eight perimeter block
islands separated by a network of canals and access roads. In addition, a
standalone tower is proposed as the southern harbour landmark and treated as
a separate project, with different architects and developers. The urban layout
employs a curved main route promenade running east–west, with both the
canal and canal-side roads cutting across the orthogonal plan. This concept
successfully results in a plan layout where variety is ensured: no two blocks
have the same footprint, each courtyard is different and the perspective views
on the ground have closed vistas (as with the central Amsterdam ring canals).
Open-stepped passages in the corner of each block provide glimpses down onto
the canal and across to the courtyard of the neighbouring block (what Jorgen
Bach of the architects Arkitema describes as the ‘Venice views’). Bridges, quays
and waterside steps allow residents to access the water for sport, leisure or just
enjoying the view (see Figure 10.4). Channelling the harbour water between the
blocks through canals maximizes the water-edge effect and provides more
residents with closer proximity to the water. However, it is the building façades’
variety of colour and material that give the design its special identity.

Figure 10.4 Cross-canal image showing corner apartments and flanking double duplexes
Source: Derek Fraser
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    189

With regards to housing typologies, a mix of apartments and two-storey or

duplex houses exists. In the solution employed, the ground floor corners of
each perimeter block have been designed in order to allow for commercial use
or to combine live–work. To reach the required density, the north and south
sides of each perimeter block contain linked apartment buildings of five to
seven storeys, while the east and west sides consist of linked duplex houses
stacked one above the other, reaching four storeys. Initially, the architects had
reservations about the design concept of placing one duplex on top of another;
but early design concepts using four-storey houses proved to be commercially
unattractive and did not help to achieve the required density. It is interesting to
note, however, that it was these double duplexes which sold first on completion
of every block. The strategy of apartment blocks with surface parking employed
in the early developments of the south harbour was abandoned in favour of a
more ‘urban’ solution in the case of Sluseholmen, with its perimeter blocks,
basement parking, communal courtyards and canal houses. Although the
majority of blocks are predominately residential, there is a small commercial
edge along the side of a block fronting onto the main through road to the new
harbour link bridge.
During the design collaboration between Soeters and the Danish architects,
much time was spent in establishing a set of rules or dogmas as design guidelines
and housing density. For example, building heights could vary from four to
seven storeys, with the four-storey building to the narrow side canals; the five-
storey building to the wider canal-side road; and the six- or seven-storey
building overlooking the wider harbour. This variety in height optimizes solar
penetration into the blocks and, although adding a limited variety to the
skyline, could have offered more tall landmarks from a townscape point of
view. A site area of 7.16ha (including canals) is developed with a 135,000
square metre floor area on a footprint of 24,420 square metres, giving 183
units per hectare, which is a very high density for a contemporary scheme.
Access roads are shared surface for pedestrians, bicycles and vehicles. Canal
widths vary from 16m alongside the four-storey building and 20m alongside
the five-storey building. Bridges have a 1:20 incline with heights of 2.5m above
water and a minimum of 1.6m boat clearance.
The construction of the bridges linking various parts of the southern
harbour and the link bridge to Sluseholmen are key to enabling residents to
access various functions and uses in the area. Initially, the absence of these
bridges has caused problems, with residents having to make long journeys to
access facilities such as the primary school.
The Danish architects, in particular, regarded it important that each
apartment building should have a ‘social’ dimension, where neighbours could
share spaces and get to know each other, perhaps reflecting upon the Danish
social democratic tradition. Each perimeter block should have a central social
recreational space, shared by the residents and accessible to visitors. These
internal courtyards contain children’s playgrounds, bike stores, barbecue areas,
landscaping with a variety of surfaces and small trees (see Figure 10.5).
Following Danish law, these shared private spaces are managed and maintained
by an obligatory residents’ association, with rules and regulations normally
found throughout the country.
(a)

(b)

Figure 10.5a and 10.5b Perimeter block with apartment buildings and duplex town houses.
The sketch on the bottom shows standardized construction with a variety of individually
designed façades
Source: Project development director of Sjælsø Danmark A/S, 2010
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    191

On the eastern edge of the site there was an existing row of small boathouses
traditionally rented out to residents of Copenhagen, which has been kept. This
traditional and colourful activity brings in a different community and adds a
vibrant edge to the site.
In summary, had the initial idea of low-cost housing and surface parking
been realized, it would have no doubt brought an improvement to the area.
However, the more ambitious vision set by the city authorities has resulted in
the creation of a high-quality living environment with a forward-looking design
solution successfully offering a new vibrant district for which the city is
justifiably proud.

The planning and development process

During the first year, the city planners formed a regeneration development
company for the southern harbour and worked with private developers who
were interested in getting involved due to the building boom. It was this
company that started to invest in the infrastructure and the clearing of
grounds for the first developments. It was quickly realized, however, that
this ‘piecemeal’ approach was not the best, and following the creation of the
south harbour masterplan, various sites were identified and phases planned.
With the Sluseholmen site, architects were given commissions from
developers (Arkitema by Sjælsø), and in other cases in the south harbour,
architects won competitions (Vandkusten at Teglværkshavnen). Four
development companies were originally involved with the Slusholmen
project, reduced to three by the end of the project. Two construction
companies won the tenders and were given a timescale in which the work
was to be completed.
The major stakeholders involved were the Copenhagen city planners, the
Port Authority (By & Havn), development companies, architects, technicians
and engineers. The main developers were invited to be involved in initial
discussions about the southern harbour redevelopment by the City of
Copenhagen because of their performance record on other projects in the city.
In particular, the city invited the developer, and suggested that this company
select two or three other development companies with whom to work in order
to widen involvement and overcome the tight timescale. The lead architects,
Arkitema, also invited other architects to become involved in the design of the
façades of both apartment buildings and canal duplexes as part of the design
strategy. Most welcomed the opportunity, but a few were unhappy to produce
only ‘façade’ designs.
With regards to consultation mechanisms, no direct consultations with
existing residents took place because the site is remote from other inhabitants.
However, on the eastern water’s edge of Sluseholmen sits the old Valby Boat
Club, with a series of rented red-painted boathouses with a communal
clubhouse. This was originally owned by the Port Authority (later part of By &
Havn), which had allowed Copenhageners to rent and use the facility. Initially,
this was thought to be in the way of the new development: the area was sold
to developers and plans were made for its removal. However, and following a
protest by the users, it was bought back by the Port Authority when its social
192    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

importance was realized. The old clubhouse was demolished and replaced by a
new floating one, funded by the developers. The club is self-administered and
continues with a long tradition in the city. It serves the nearby residential area
and adds a delightfully colourful and active edge to the east of the site.
Regular design development meetings took place as required between the
city planners, the developers and the architects. The design process followed the
usual processes in the city and included the normal two or three general public
consultations.
The changes in the administration of the regeneration company for
Copenhagen’s waterfront areas in 2007, when the initial Københavns Havn
A/S was dissolved and the new Harbour Authority was created – CPH City and
Port Development (By & Havn)13 – contributed to the change in attitude
towards the development of the waterfront and the renewed expectations for
the places created.
In many cases, it is not unusual for complex development plans such as
Sluseholmen to encounter difficulties and constraints in the process of design
and implementation. However, in this case, the working relationship between
developers and architects was very positive. Initially, developers expressed some
difficulty with the first meetings when they had to deal with a different architect
within the firm each time. However, from the time that a dedicated project
partner was allocated to the project, the rapport was very good.
Although there were many discussions within the planning process, these
revolved more around the details of design than with the overall design strategy.
The choice of materials was open; but this did not create any problems. The
water level can rise or fall by 1.6m, which created design problems for
connections to the canals and the design of the bridges, as it needs to allow a
minimum head clearance. The basement parking proved expensive and,
although similar in cost to other Copenhagen locations, it has been anticipated
that some of the next phases of waterfront development in the southern
harbour will not feature this.
The three developers also had to carry the cost of removing the pollution
from the site, and there was an informal agreement that the developers would
pay for the construction of the link bridge. This essential link from north to
south is key to completing the main route for vehicles and pedestrians to access
the different functions of the south harbour redevelopments.
Given the unattractive appearance and disconnected location of the
redundant harbour, the area was slow to attract development under the initial
planning strategy. It took until 2004 with the creation of the new vision and
revised masterplan before confidence grew and the market was strong enough
for the development to be commercially feasible. Responding to commercial
strategies, Soeters advised that each building within each perimeter block
should not be sold to individual developers, as in the Java Island case in
Amsterdam, as this had led to problems when some developers delayed
construction or sold their buildings on, leading to the loss of control over the
timescale and generating variable construction quality. This advice, together
with good project management, enabled the Sluseholmen development to be
completed on time and within budget, with planning approvals scheduled for
2004 and construction completed in 2008.
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    193

Overall, the process went well mainly due to the involvement of all the key
stakeholders from the outset; developers, city authorities and lead architects
expressed this during the interviews. Given the complexities of the design with so
many stakeholders working together, the big challenge was to ensure that the
developers could deliver within the required timescale and according to budget.
Complex project management was required and a team of specialists from the
architects firm Arkitema also acted as project managers, executing this management
task with military precision. However, it is important to highlight that some of the
difficulties emerged when the contractors became involved as they were not used
to such design complexity and variation, and some may have lost out financially
as they had not all anticipated the sophisticated refinement of the design.
Selling the apartments and duplexes was initially a challenge for the agents,
who found it difficult to attract buyers to visit a noisy, windy construction site
in an old redundant harbour. A full-size floating duplex was constructed which
could provide prospective buyers with a first-hand experience of waterside
living. This proved successful, especially during the first stages of construction,
as it could be located at more attractive locations nearby. The added value of a
connection to the water was always a factor in carrying the extra costs of
constructing canals. In this case, the developers were very happy that this extra
cost was more than covered by the additional value added to the canal duplexes.
As confidence grew over the construction, apartment floor areas were increased
by 5 to 10 per cent, and sales were going well until the recession that began in
2008. Occupation by April 2010 was around 70 per cent, rising to approximately
80 per cent by March 2011, but with many of the original owners having to
rent out to tenants due to the current economic recession.
Construction costs on the first block had to be very tightly controlled,
resulting in much repetition of core elements and materials. The group of
architects involved in the façade designs were first proposed by Arkitema and
vetted or approved by the Port Authority (By & Havn), city planners and
developers. The choice of façade materials was slightly constrained initially
and no plastic or smooth render was allowed. This was later relaxed and a
wider variety of materials and finishes were permitted. However, a vertical
emphasis on façade proportions was required. Although each invited architect
was allocated a specific apartment building, it later proved desirable to move
some around to suit the overall composition within the block (i.e. not have two
white buildings together). The design sessions in ‘orchestrating’ the composition
of the amalgamated façades involved Arkitema, Soeters and city planners (who
would normally grant approvals). A wide variety of well-known established
architects and some younger less-recognized architects were invited to
participate. Some of the well-known refused (questioning the ethics), while the
younger architects involved took to the exercise with more enthusiasm,
especially with the small duplex façades (see Figure 10.6).
Most unusually for such a major urban project, the scheme was completed
as envisaged and planned. No major changes were made to the initial design
proposals during the process and no significant changes were made to the
design during implementation and construction. Clearly, the method of
construction using prefabricated modular building elements was necessary to
meet the timescale and budget. This allowed for both speed of construction and
194    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

Figure 10.6 Vista along the central curved roadside canal showing the variety of apartment
buildings
Source: Derek Fraser

variety. Moreover, it was the design approach of introducing colour and

material variations to the façades that not only widened the availability and
supply of materials, but avoided monotony and repetition, providing the
scheme with its successful image.

The stakeholders’ views of the results

Remarkably, all of the stakeholders involved in the development of Sluseholmen
agree that the final design achieved the original strategic objectives by using high-
quality design solutions to provide an opportunity for new residents to experience
a new quality of life by living close to the water. They also agree that the project
not only succeeded in reflecting the initial expectations, once these were fixed and
in agreement, but also that Sluseholmen was completed within the timeframe and
budget allocated. All of the interviewed stakeholders concurred that the final result
exceeded expectations with regards to design and urban quality, as well as economic
success, achieving the change of public perception of an area from a derelict ex-
industrial location to a new, attractive and desirable quarter of the city. Each of the
various teams was very proud of the project and the acclaim that it has received.
Overall, the residential and commercial units have been occupied reasonably
quickly. All properties have been sold by the developers to private owners and
property companies. The earlier blocks were a little slow; but this speeded up
later on as confidence in the success of the area grew. By March 2011, some of
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    195

the units were still unoccupied, particularly in the latest completed block, with
individuals and property companies feeling the pressures of the recession.
Originally, there was no social housing planned for the Sluseholmen
development (usually delivered in Denmark by different development
companies). In the completed project, only 100 of the 1130 units are designated
as social housing. However, with the recession, many units became rented
instead of owner occupied, bringing an unplanned social mix to the area.
In retrospect, some would have liked to see Sluseholmen contain more of a
mixed use, with places for people to work in the area. The kindergarten was
completed during construction; but the planned harbour link bridge connection
to other parts of the southern harbour, including the primary school, came later.
This caused controversy with residents who claimed that these were intended
to be completed following the construction of the first two blocks. Overall, by
comparison, the south harbour has 90 per cent residential areas compared to
the north harbour’s 60 per cent (masterplanned by Adrian Gauze). However, it
could be argued that this difference is related to the original visions of ‘waterside
living’ by Soeters and ‘dense urban living’ by Gauze.
In general, the design is considered a success with its design and planning
awards and its popularity with residents. The little criticism received seems to
emanate from some architects who question the ethics of separating the façade
designs from the building behind. It sparks debate between those who follow
the principles of 20th-century modernism and those who see value in learning
from the successful place-making of historic cities. Positive reviews highlight
the atmosphere, created by a series of imaginative, lively and varied street and
canal frontages – in strong contrast to the uniformity of many other
contemporary blocks. Involving up to 20 architects designing façades in each
block brings a rich variety, both at the scale of the apartment blocks aligning
the canal-side roads and the smaller narrower double duplex town houses on
the cross canals. This orchestrated medley picks up on the scale and character
found in many other harbours and previously employed by Soeters in his design
for Java Island development in the Amsterdam Eastern Docklands. Inspiration
for this ‘variation on a theme’ with street façades can be found in cities such as
Amsterdam, Venice and Copenhagen’s Nyhavn and Chistianshavn districts,
where historically the individual buildings developed more accretively.

Reflections and conclusions on the design strategies

and development process adopted for Sluseholmen
The interest of this investigation was to understand the relations between the
design strategies adopted and the development process. As a result, this concluding
section first summarizes the specific design strategies applied in the Sluseholmen
development and their results, and then focuses on the process of development.
The large scale of the harbour with an open body of water north of the
Sluseholmen site provides the biggest open space and the main genius loci.
This aspect is recognized in the design by placing the tallest apartment blocks
along the northern edge and adopting a mainly orthogonal grid-iron plan
where tangential views are also possible from the side canals (see Figure
10.7). The smaller scale of these side canals provides a spatial contrast from
 (a)

(b)

Figure 10.7a and 10.7b

Courtyard view of double
duplexes and ‘Venice’ view
from the courtyard across
the canal
Source: Derek Fraser
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    197

the open harbour and creates a visual variety from a series of narrow
townhouses directly fronting the water without a roadway – accessed from
the courtyard. An intermediate scale is provided by the central east–west
access road running alongside a canal and curving in such a way as to provide
a series of closed vistas. Although there is an access road along the north edge
with surface parking and the south for basement parking access, this central
route with its shared surface and timber-humped bridges successfully mixes
pedestrians, bicycles and vehicles without roadside markings or obtrusive
road signs.
The courtyards of each perimeter block vary in size, shape and landscape
character, and provide more sheltered semi-private open spaces for residents’
communal activities of relaxation and play. In addition, each ground-floor
apartment and duplex is given its own terrace, which, although small in size, is
still able to accommodate the al fresco meal or plant pot collection while
serving as a tactical buffer zone. In addition to having a small terrace to the
court, the lower duplexes also have direct access to their own canal platform,
while the upper duplexes lead to their own private roof garden. Each of the
apartment buildings also provides the facility of a roof garden shared by the
residents of the building.
Such a clear strategic use of spatial hierarchy succeeds in bringing together
various building heights, external spaces, access routes and functions in a
solution that provides a balance between order and legibility – variety and
surprise.
Employing design refinements, such as bringing water to the edges of the
blocks with canals, underground parking and a variety of typologies, succeeds
in creating a strong sense of place with a special atmosphere of its own
contrasting intimate canal-side locations with framed vistas and open views
over the harbour. Many other schemes in such locations adopt the simpler
finger block strategy by placing lineal apartment buildings at right angles to the
water to enable everyone to have a tangential view. This solution usually
involves lower density, and the surrounding windswept space is often given
over to car parking.
At the north-eastern corner of the masterplan of the southern harbour, a
high-rise residential tower, Metropolis, designed by the English architectural
firm Future Systems is located at the head of the Sluseholmen jetty (see Figure
10.8). As part of the design strategy to provide a vertical landmark and a point
of reference, it serves this purpose best when approached on the waterbus from
the north where its narrow width and 11 storeys make it appear sufficiently
taller than the 7-storey heights of the Sluseholmen blocks. Otherwise, the tower
remains invisible from other parts of the site due to its dense urban form.
Perhaps, on reflection, the design could have benefitted from the addition of
some taller structures within the blocks to add more variety and landmarks to
the skyline. Arguably, a more successful landmark, which interestingly was not
part of the original masterplan, sits horizontally along the eastern water’s edge
of Sluseholmen. The decision to retain the row of small rented boathouses has
created a vibrant activity along the water’s edge. A group of local fishermen and
boat owners self-manage this community and, with the provision of a
clubhouse, attract visitors.
198    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

Figure 10.8 Sluseholmen eastern edge showing existing boathouses and the new landmark
‘Metropolis’ tower
Source: Derek Fraser

With regards to understanding the development process, the Sluseholmen

case can be analysed from different perspectives. Concerning vision and
expectations, part of the success that Sluseholmen achieved in the local sphere
is due directly to policy changes made by the city as a result of earlier mistakes
along the waterfront in the central harbour. Another contributing factor to its
success is the clear vision and strategic approach shared among the stakeholders.
This vision satisfied municipal and professional goals, while providing a high-
quality design solution, creating a new district for the community and the city.
High-quality design also contributed to the economic success of the development,
responding to the aims of the investors and developers.
The establishment of the design and development team early in the process
also proved important in maintaining the agreed expectations, aims and
objectives of the early stages. The design strategies and solutions also responded
to the pragmatic criteria of the construction and the required timescale,
ensuring the quality of spaces created, such as street canals and courtyards.
Within the process, it is also important to consider that the control achieved
by the municipality in generating the masterplan, even if relying on consultants,
is related to the fact that the land was owned by the city and there were no
major pressures for development due to the public perception of the area as
derelict and lacking a neighbourhood identity.
As with any urban projects of this scale, the design strategy can be analysed
on several levels, each relating in some way to the three criteria of built form,
 design strategies for urban waterfronts: the case of sluseholmen    199

open space and function. On a pragmatic level in Sluseholmen, this amounts to

the adoption of the residential perimeter block with streets, canals and
courtyards. It is only through a more detailed analysis and evaluation of the
design decisions and final construction that the quality of the overall design can
be assessed.

Notes
1� Both authors have specific knowledge and expertise in this area as a result of former and
current research work. Since early in his career, Derek Fraser has continued teaching and
research connections with the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts. His knowledge of design
developments in Danish contemporary housing across a number of contexts recently extended
into the harbour areas. The Oresund region between Copenhagen and Malmö was one of the
focus areas in Dr Soledad Garcia Ferrari’s PhD and following research work. Particular focus
of this research has been on cases of waterfront development in both cities.
2� Sluseholmen has won three awards: Foreningen til Hovedstadens forskønnelse (Association
for Copenhagen’s Beautification), first prize to Sluseholmen, in 2007; Københavns
Kommunes arkitekturpris (Copenhagen Municipality Architecture Prize) for Sluseholmen, in
2009; and Foreningen af Byplanlæggere (Danish Association of Planners), Byplanprisen, in
2009.
3� The population of Copenhagen Municipality in 2005 was 502,362 inhabitants, while the city
and its metropolitan area had a total population of 1,212,485 inhabitants.
4� This report was published by the Danish Ministry of the Interior in January 1989. It was the
result of an investigation carried out by an ‘initiative group’ created by the prime minister. It
is established in the report that the main objective of this group was to analyse and evaluate
the situation of Copenhagen and to propose initiatives in order to increase the competitiveness
of the city in light of the European Union internal market. This report also stated that the
government’s objective was not to move activities from the rest of the country to Copenhagen,
but to seek, develop and attract new activities in the capital city since this would benefit the
whole country (Danish Ministry of the Interior in January, 1989).
5� The Harbour Committee was integrated by the Greater Copenhagen Authority, the Port
Authority of Copenhagen, the Ministry of Transportation, the Ministry of Environment,
academics, private-sector businesses and union officials.
6� The 1992 law established that the board of directors for the Port of Copenhagen should
consist of 12 members; 6, including the chairman, were elected by the Danish state, 3 by the
Municipality of Copenhagen, 1 by the Chamber of Commerce and 2 by the union of the
workers in the harbour.
7� Law 209, 29 April 1913, established this.
8� In 1994 the level of unemployment peaked, reaching 13 per cent in the Municipality of
Copenhagen and Vestegnen (west of Copenhagen). Unemployment was particularly high
among immigrants (in 1994 it was 25 per cent, while that of Danes was 4 per cent), unskilled
labour, the young and the elderly (Hansen et al, 2001).
9� See www.byoghavn.dk/en/OmByoghavn.aspx.
10� Blue Plan (proposed in June 2003 and approved in April 2005) was a debate proposal or a
political statement made by the Municipality of Copenhagen, focusing on the need to define
the use of the water in the city. This debate was an invitation to discuss ideas and views of
physical and administrative changes, as well as activities and events that may take place in the
waterfront areas. This plan was an addition to the municipal plan approved in 2001. It is
important to highlight that use of the water is the only component of the waterfront that the
municipality has absolute control over.
11� Plan-Vision 2010: Studies and Visions of Copenhagen Harbour was released in November
1999 (Københavns Havn, 1999). Following the publication of this plan, the Vision Group
200    maria soledad garcia ferrari and derek fraser

was created, including the Municipality of Copenhagen, the Port of Copenhagen, the
Ministry of Environment’s Spatial Planning Department and Freja Ejendomme (the state-
owned real-estate corporation with a mandate to develop and sell state land).
12� The three following sections present the findings from the interviews. In order to gain a clear
understanding of the development process and the priorities in terms of design strategies from
each sector, a number of stakeholders involved in the process were interviewed between
March and July 2010, representing Copenhagen city officials, developers and design
consultants. The interviewees were representatives from the City of Copenhagen Planning
Department; the lead development company, Sjælsø; the Copenhagen City and Harbour
Authority (By & Havn, City and Harbour Authority); and Arkitema, the lead architectural
firm. The semi-structured interviews all followed the same procedure, with a sequence of
questions based on three main categories: vision, process and reflection.
13� As explained earlier in the chapter, the newly created By & Havn was the result of merging
the original Københavns Havn A/S company and the Ørestad Development Corporation I/S,
and it shares ownership between the city and the state.
 Part 3

Conclusions
11
Lessons from Shared
Experiences in Sustainable
Waterfront Regeneration
around the North Sea
Harry Smith and Maria Soledad Garcia Ferrari

Introduction
The preceding chapters present in-depth studies of key waterfront regeneration
initiatives around the North Sea during the first decade in the 21st century.
These experiences vary in size, in the relative strength and powers of
stakeholders and in their legal and institutional frameworks, but have been
developed within a region which, at the global level, is fairly homogeneous with
similar institutional structures and economic and social goals.
The case studies have been written from a range of disciplinary perspectives,
providing a wealth of ways of understanding the phenomenon of waterfront
regeneration. Instead of mechanistically applying the analytical framework
presented in Chapter 2, they focus on specific aspects of this, allowing in-depth
exploration of the relevant issues. Collectively, however, they do provide a
useful basis to build an overview of waterfront regeneration trends in the region
during the last decade, which can serve as a basis for comparisons with other
regions in the world, as well as a source of lessons that can be used for reflection
in relation to waterfront regeneration elsewhere.
This chapter therefore first presents an overview of key characteristics of
recent waterfront regeneration around the North Sea, focusing, in turn, on the
three elements used here to analyse urban development: allocative structures,
authoritative structures and systems of meaning. This is complemented with a
brief analysis from a political economy perspective. Following this, a reflection
on the analytical framework proposed and used in this book is provided,
looking at potential refinements of the framework and at its applicability as a
tool for analysing waterfront regeneration at various scales, from that of the
locality up to the regional and even national scales. The chapter ends by
considering the key challenges ahead for waterfront developments in the North
Sea and around the world.
204    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Lessons from the case studies of waterfront

regeneration around the North Sea
The impact of allocative structures
Chapter 3 explored allocative structures around a key resource for urban
development – land – with a strong focus on the experience in the UK, but also
drawing on relevant examples elsewhere around the North Sea. Most examples
of major waterfront regeneration projects around the North Sea take place near
or relatively near city cores. Examples abound of developments on land that
was reclaimed during the port expansion (or creation) period, and reclamation
continues to be used during regeneration (e.g. in Edinburgh and Oslo).
Although major port areas tend to be under the ownership of a single
landholder, or in some cases a limited number of owners, some of the major
waterfront regeneration projects around the North Sea extend beyond the
harbour areas and into a range of adjacent land uses, including industrial,
residential and mixed use (the latter sometimes being long-established or
‘historic’ parts of the city). This makes the landownership picture in the region
rather complex, and highlights the importance of land-use control systems at
the interface between allocative structures and authoritative structures. The
cases discussed in this book highlight how control over land-use and land
development is key to the success of waterfront regeneration. In cases where
land was not all under the control of the authority initiating the regeneration,
due to land belonging to either a few large landowners or a multiplicity of
smaller landowners (the cases of Edinburgh and Gothenburg’s Östra
Kvillebäcken, respectively), regeneration has faltered or been slow and complex.
Where either most land was under the control of the regeneration authority, or
the land that was under such control was used strategically, regeneration
proceeded at a good pace and had an impact upon the surrounding area (the
cases of HafenCity Hamburg and Gateshead Quays, respectively).
With regards to funding and finance structures, the experience observed
around the North Sea confirms the growing worldwide trend for private-sector
involvement and adoption of market-based mechanisms and organizational
forms. However, the cases presented here also highlight the continuing
importance of the state in this region – whether local, regional or national – as
the initial investor and creator of favourable conditions for the regeneration.
The state continues to be the source of any strategic approach and initiator of
any long-term vision or visioning process, and through its permanency is in a
position to give some continuity to long-term planning and implementation
(i.e. allocation of resources to the generation of strategies and visions and to
their implementation is crucial, though this does not guarantee the realization
of such visions; see, for example, the case of Dialog Södra Älvstranden in
Chapter 5). This can contribute to the resilience of a project, as is evidenced
when contrasting the case of Edinburgh (where the regeneration of the
waterfront, very reliant on the private sector, was badly hit by the economic
crisis of 2008) with the case of HafenCity Hamburg, where the public
development company-driven regeneration has continued – though the crisis
affected Germany to a much lesser extent than the UK.
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    205

Although the state has continued its strong role around the North Sea (less
so in the UK), it has become more entrepreneurial, developing ways of
managing its assets in order to help finance and create appropriate conditions
to encourage waterfront regeneration. In many cases it has focused its resources
on the creation or renewal of appropriate physical infrastructure. In some
cases, it has creatively used its control over land (through transferring this to a
publicly owned development company, as in Edinburgh or Hamburg, or
through land assembly, as in Hull) to use this as a generator of funds to finance
such infrastructures. The state has also adopted strong branding and marketing
approaches (evident across most of the cases presented here) to attract
investment, as well as developing strategic and opportunistic approaches to
tapping into sources of public money (as in the case of Gateshead Quays).
Regarding labour, the cases of waterfront regeneration around the North
Sea follow the general trend of resident (or nearby) port- and industry-related
workforces, often unionized, being replaced in the new developments and
conversions by a combination of multi-skilled and ‘foot-loose’ knowledge
workers and employees in the service sector. The new ‘pieces of city’, with their
offer of variety and quality in places for living, work and leisure, are being
created with a view to attracting such types of workforce. In addition, new jobs
are emerging as part of the regeneration process itself, such as the ‘social
supervisor’ and ‘floor manager’ in the case of Schiedam (see Chapter 4), and as
part of the on-going management of regenerated areas, such as the Wegewart
in HafenCity Hamburg (see Chapter 6) – both of which require appropriate
allocation of resources from the agencies responsible for regeneration and
urban management.
The cases presented here do not look specifically at materials and other
construction resources, and this is an area that merits more research. Examples
of the impact of globalization upon the ‘materiality’ of regenerated waterfronts
are found around the North Sea, a particularly illustrative one being the use
of granite from India to repave the City Hall Square next to Aker Brygge in
Oslo, the capital of a country that is rich in granite. This kind of practice is
generated by the impact of the allocative structure of the global market.
However, as foreseen in Chapter 2, this is increasingly being addressed by
building standards stemming from the relevant regulatory authorities (i.e.
authoritative structures) mostly at a national level, though there are some
examples of waterfront regeneration projects leading the way. Chapter 9
analysed Bo01 in Malmö, which was developed as a model of sustainable
urban development. Here the project specified the avoidance of hazardous
materials in the construction process, and the use only of materials that could
be recycled when the buildings are demolished. HafenCity, presented in
Chapter 6, developed its own eco-label certification scheme for individual
projects within the waterfront area, two years before a national certification
system for sustainable building was approved across Germany. However,
besides these two pioneering examples, most of the waterfront regeneration
projects included in this book have been subject to national standards, which
are becoming increasingly stringent.
With regards to energy, the regeneration initiatives covered in this book
have been designed and/or implemented at a time (the first decade of the 21st
206    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

century) during which the mental model of the zero carbon economy has gained
wide acceptance in the countries around the North Sea, and has become
recognized in legislation towards lowering greenhouse gas emissions. The
response to the relatively fast-changing regulatory environment in these
regeneration projects has therefore evolved during the decade, with many
significant initiatives in this area having been developed after the Waterfront
Communities Project closed. Again, Bo01 in Malmö stands out as a pioneering
project that specifically addressed this issue from the outset. Here the aim was
to achieve all electricity supply locally through harnessing renewable sources,
by means of solar panels built on top of some of the buildings, and one of
Sweden’s largest wind turbines. It was a pilot project which showed an
underestimation of energy consumption in the houses once occupied, and as
such helped to refine the methods used for such calculations in subsequent
developments. HafenCity has also pioneered responses to lowering carbon
emissions by developing a system of combined remote and local district heating
systems, which use a range of renewable sources of energy. Heating supply for
western and eastern HafenCity, respectively, has been contracted out to
companies that had to meet strict conditions regarding maximum levels of
emissions. In the Port of Leith, during 2011, the feasibility of a biomass
combined heat and power plant was being considered, which would not only
provide electricity to Edinburgh, but also feed a district heating system in the
waterfront. In all of these cases, proposed and implemented local but centralized
systems have been facilitated by the concentration of the development initiative
within the hands of a single large landowner or developer: there is less
experience of more decentralized approaches in these waterfronts.
One element that might have increasingly been expected to feature
prominently in the skyline of waterfront developments is wind turbines. There
are limited examples of these directly in the waterfronts included in this book
(e.g. Malmö); but what has become evident during the last few years is that the
harnessing of wind power has become a major priority around the North Sea,
and that this is being approached on an industrial scale rather than at a
decentralized local scale. Waterfronts in the region are therefore becoming the
arena for competition over their use, as they are now being sought after as
platforms for construction, assembly and shipping of wind turbines destined
for large offshore windfarms, as well as to provide the infrastructure for land-
based connections to energy grids once the windfarms are operational. We
return to this point in ‘Challenges ahead’ at the end of this chapter.
Finally, all of the above are linked to changes in institutional resources,
which have been evidenced in the cases of waterfront regeneration studied here.
In most cases, implementation of the regeneration has required, first and
foremost, investment in organizational restructuring (e.g. creation of dedicated
waterfront departments and offices within the local authorities, including
information and dissemination centres, as well as creation of new types of post)
and the creation of new organizations (such as publicly owned development
companies). These substantial changes in allocative structures evidence the
significance attached to the regeneration of waterfronts in these cities. These
changes have been possible through the intervention of the authoritative
structures, as we see next.
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    207

Evolving authoritative structures

The case study chapters in this book illustrate two fundamental shifts which are
taking place in authoritative structures that have a bearing on waterfront
regeneration: the increasing engagement of the private sector in regeneration
activities, and the widening and diversification of forms of public involvement,
engagement and participation.
Although waterfront regeneration around the North Sea is primarily driven
by public-sector initiatives, it is increasingly using private-sector approaches to
this activity through:

• changing the operational mode of what were previously public-sector

agencies, such as port authorities (e.g. Aalborg, Edinburgh, Oslo);
• establishing new companies to manage what were previously public-sector
assets (e.g. Edinburgh, Hamburg, Hull); and/or
• engaging with the private sector as a partner in developing the waterfront.

There is a diversity of approaches, depending upon specific contexts and

waterfront histories; indeed, some of the case studies combine all of these
approaches. The common thread is the increasing adoption of private-sector
and market-driven approaches in regeneration processes. This appears to be in
keeping with worldwide trends.
What may be more distinctive about the North Sea experience in waterfront
regeneration, in terms of authoritative structures, is the widening of civic
engagement. The form that this takes again is very much influenced by the
specific context. The cases of Hamburg and Gothenburg, for example, illustrate
the differences in approach that can occur depending upon the existing
stakeholders – including residents. These also depend upon how such
stakeholders are defined, as ‘local’ (i.e. on or adjacent to the land affected by
regeneration) or more widely at city or even regional level. National trajectories
in civic engagement in planning and in governance, in general, have a strong
influence on how civil society is engaged in the planning, implementation and
long-term management of waterfront regeneration. Chapter 4 reflects the
tradition of consensual governance that has been long established in The
Netherlands. Experimentation with the role of a ‘social supervisor’ to connect
the authoritative structures with citizens during planning and implementation
must be seen in this context. Other figures are being tested elsewhere for the
long-term management and maintenance of spaces created through waterfront
regeneration, such as that of a designated person who is in charge of overseeing
the maintenance of quality and amenity of public space, and is a point of
contact in this regard for the public at HafenCity and the first pilot
neighbourhood improvement district (NID) (Steilshoop), both in Hamburg. In
the UK, growing community activism and the legal basis for this can be seen
not only in the state-supported community-based organizations which are
increasingly common in urban regeneration projects, but also in active citizen
groups that contest developments and propose alternatives.
Underpinning this wealth of experience in civic engagement, mostly
channelled through state-regulated and initiated mechanisms, is the social
democratic polity which emerged and became consolidated in Northern and
208    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

Western Europe, largely during the 20th century. This socio-economic model,
with its various manifestations in the different countries in the region, is fairly
unique in global terms. The implications of this model in terms of the goals of
waterfront regeneration and the means whereby these are achieved are key
distinctive features of this activity around the North Sea, in comparison with
other parts of the world. This is manifested in locally specific ways in the
region, based on the historic trajectory of nations and territories, and on the
various legal and institutional frameworks. As seen in Chapter 3, these
frameworks divide European countries into several ‘legal families’ with their
respective approaches to land-use planning – and therefore to urban development
and regeneration – and importantly linked to particular ‘mental models’.
In the development of approaches to wider participation in waterfront
regeneration in this region, the mental models of representative democracy and
the state as guarantor of the public good are still very strong. In this context,
the mostly state-initiated participatory processes seen in the case study chapters
show a high degree of experimentation in ways of achieving communication
between different stakeholders and generating ideas, which can be a rich vein
for future waterfront regeneration processes. However, there is very limited
empowerment of other stakeholders outside the state, other than the companies
set up by the state. Strategic decisions are still kept very much within the
control of the elected government bodies and their officials, with more local
and lower-scale areas of decision-making being opened up more to community
involvement. Even at this level, the amount of delegated power or control (in
Arnstein’s and Davidson’s terms, respectively) is limited. In this regard,
experiences from elsewhere, such as Brazil’s participatory budgeting, can offer
ideas for further restructuring of authoritative (and allocative) structures in
waterfront regeneration around the North Sea.

Shared and context-specific systems of meaning

The underlying socio-economic model seen above also underpins the discourses
that accompany waterfront regeneration around the North Sea. The preceding
chapters show how places such as Aalborg, Copenhagen, Edinburgh, Hamburg,
Odense and Schiedam are striving to create extensions to the city (thus, the
focus on the mixed use, medium-density physical model), including a mix of
affordable housing. ‘Integration’ with the surrounding urban areas, particularly
where these are seen as deprived and therefore with the potential to benefit
from the new development, is a core element in the prevailing official discourse
in some of the case study cities. Although there are apparent exceptions to this,
such as that of Gateshead Quays, even here the focus on culture-led development
and the strategy of attracting real-estate investment at the higher end of the
market is part of a larger city-wide regeneration strategy that seeks the
improvement of quality of life across all social sectors. Potentially in tension
with this goal of integration is the aim to create areas with their own identity.
This is sometimes for the waterfront development as a whole, and in other
cases, where these developments are particularly large, for smaller
neighbourhoods within the overall scheme which are designed to have their
own character – as in the ‘quarters’ that HafenCity Hamburg is divided into,
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    209

the ‘character areas’ used in the masterplan for Granton Harbour, Edinburgh,
or the case of Sluseholmen area in Copenhagen’s waterfront.
This discourse is related to that of the recovery of civic life, now linked to
provision for amenity and leisure activities, which form an increasing part of
the economy in North Sea countries. A physical or design manifestation of this
is the increasing importance attached to the amount, quality, diversity and use
of public space, expanding our understanding of this to include ‘blue space’, as
is illustrated in the case of Aalborg. Connections with this ‘blue space’ are
explored at three different levels in the case study cities:

1� at the macro-level, reconnecting city and water (e.g. Edinburgh, Gateshead

and Odense);
2� at the meso-level, connecting public spaces with the water (e.g. Aalborg,
Hamburg and Oslo); and
3� at the micro-level, connecting buildings with the water (e.g. Aalborg and
Copenhagen).

The importance attached to ‘connections’ and to ‘civic life’ has led to public space
being central to most waterfront developments in the North Sea region, though
notably less so in the examples from the UK. However, the approach to public
space varies greatly across the case studies. In Odense, this was defined first, with
blocks and buildings coming later. In HafenCity Hamburg, the approach was to
invest heavily in key ‘flagship’ public spaces provided by the development
company to help draw in people from elsewhere in the city. In Edinburgh, an
overall framework for distribution and general form of public space was provided
by means of the initial masterplan in Granton (and development framework in
Leith); but the detailed design and development of such spaces have been left to
the individual landowners – subject to the statutory planning process. In
Gateshead Quays, investment focused initially on the buildings, with public
spaces coming later, the opposite of the experience in Odense. Finally, the balance
between public and private space also varies, with interesting examples being the
approach taken in HafenCity to blur the boundaries between the two, making
many privately owned spaces generally accessible and to the same standard as
public space, and that taken in Copenhagen’s Sluseholmen, where small private
gardens flow into a larger communal space, with privacy being marked more by
personalization than by actual physical or visual barriers.
As a result of all this, it can be argued that distinctive features of the
discourse in relation to waterfront regeneration around the North Sea and the
physical manifestations of these are a focus on creating ‘pieces of city’ which
are accessible to all sectors of society, and which include a range of spaces,
often connected to the water, from civic to domestic. This can, perhaps, be
contrasted with notable examples of waterfront regeneration elsewhere in the
world, ranging from that of Shanghai’s waterfront (where world-class business
and high end of the market real estate are the focus) to that of Guayaquil in
Ecuador (where regeneration of the promenade has resulted in the semi-
privatization of public space, according to its critics).
Finally, another distinctive strand shared across all these waterfronts,
though not unique to the region, is the recovery of the port identity of cities
210    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

through the regeneration of these areas, which in many cases had been unused
or increasingly rundown for decades. This is being achieved through the use of
heritage and the (re)construction of narratives that link the city, or its
waterfront, to past histories of trading and port-related industries. This is
manifested physically in the re-use of old buildings – often as information
centres, venues for events or cultural hubs – and integration of industrial and
port heritage within the new designs, such as the almost ubiquitous cranes. And
it is also expressed in the publications and other media produced as part of the
marketing and awareness-raising campaigns. In some cases, this is being used
to try to change the perception of the city’s identity as a whole (though effecting
this change depends largely upon the actual physical success of the waterfront
development on the ground), and in others it is reinforcing the already existing
strong mental model of the city as a port, as is the case in Hamburg.

A political economy perspective

As alluded to above, the socio-democratic polity around the North Sea appears
to be a highly influential ‘structure’ in the way in which waterfront regeneration
is being approached in this part of the world. The institutional structure that
developed in Western and Northern Europe during its centuries of world
hegemony set the context, and this structure continues to develop, partly
responding to pressures from globalization (largely underpinning the increasing
role of the private sector) and partly reacting to social demands (largely pushing
for wider civic engagement).
Although these processes are taking place, comparatively in world terms the
state continues to be a strong player around the North Sea, supported by well-
established taxation systems and a citizenry that expects and demands some
form of welfare state to be in place. The strong position in the world economy
achieved by this part of the world through centuries of worldwide trading,
colonial and post-colonial expansion, as well as through its early industrialization,
continues today through its strong role in world trade, finance and the
knowledge economy. This provides the possibility – both material and
institutional – for the type of waterfront regeneration that has been discussed
here. This, however, is changing in the context of shifts in trading patterns and
the balance of economic power across the world, as is seen in the final section
of this chapter.
One of the things that the waterfront regeneration cases studied here shows
is that global economic processes, such as the changing patterns in the flow of
goods and capital around the world, encounter local histories, political and
institutional structures, and physical infrastructures, which mediate the impact
of such flows upon local development. The worldwide changes in waterborne
trade, which have brought about the obsolescence of old port facilities, as well
as industrial decline through migration of production elsewhere, have had
different consequences at the local level, depending upon the local political
economy as well as national and regional contexts. Indeed, such changes have
not always led to overall decline of port activity as a whole, but in some cases
have been linked to actual increase in port activity, fuelled by increasing
concentration of transoceanic shipping routes in fewer strategic ports.
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    211

The cities studied here have initiated the regeneration of their waterfronts
from very different starting points. With the risk of simplifying somewhat, it
can be said that some have started from a position of strength, where the
challenge has been to harness their healthy economy to channel resources and
vision into their waterfronts. Such are the cases of Hamburg, with its continuing
strong port activity; Edinburgh, with its strong position as an international
financial centre; and Oslo, with the revenues generated by North Sea oil.
Others have used the regeneration of their waterfront as an opportunity to
change the perception of the city and to attract investment, as is exemplified by
Gateshead.
The role of national and regional political and economic priorities and
strategies has also been important in some cases. The regeneration of Malmö’s
waterfront was possible as part of the wider regional (and transnational)
strategy of developing the Oresund region, with major investment in
infrastructure, such as the bridge linking Denmark and Sweden, being key to
its success. The conditions for the regeneration of HafenCity were established
when the reunification of Germany and the resuming of economic links between
Western and Eastern Europe put Hamburg in a strategically advantageous
position as gateway to a large hinterland. In summary, these cases clearly show
that an understanding of the political economy at various geographic levels,
linked to the institutional approach used here, helps to explain the drivers for,
potential of and levels of success of waterfront regeneration and development
initiatives.

The relevance of the analytical framework in

understanding waterfront regeneration around
the world
As was explained in Chapter 2, the analytical framework proposed in this book
has not been applied in a mechanistic fashion throughout the case study
chapters, which each provided a focus on some of the issues addressed by the
framework. It has, however, been useful to provide insights at the detailed level
explored within the case studies, as well as to articulate an overview, as
presented above. Application of the framework repeatedly showed how there
are close connections between allocative structures, authoritative structures and
systems of meaning, the understanding of which can be as helpful as the
explanatory power of each of these types of relations alone.
On reflection, one of these types of relations – systems of meaning – has the
potential to be developed further to become a more precise and structured
heuristic tool. As defined in Chapter 2, its application to the case studies was,
in practice, more fluid and perhaps more difficult to focus than that of the
concepts of allocative and authoritative structures. Part of the difficulty derives
from its links to the other two types of relations, which paradoxically contribute
to its usefulness as a line of enquiry. Another part of the difficulty lies in the
nature of planning, urban design and architecture as activities and as products.
Here systems of meaning (e.g. frames of reference, ideology, rationalities and
discourses, as seen in Chapter 2) are not limited to their verbalization in
212    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

documents, marketing material, debates and so on, but become embedded in

the actual urban developments and buildings, which can to some extent then
be ‘read’. A case in point is that of public space, which in the cases analysed in
this book has been shown to reflect different rationalities that not only
appertain to the authoritative structures which have created the legal and
procedural conditions for their shaping, but also respond to deeply embedded
socio-cultural norms that are context specific, as well as to innovative discourses
proposed by designers.
A clear lesson emerging from the application of this framework to our
understanding of waterfront regeneration around the North Sea is that,
although global forces provide drivers for such regeneration (here as elsewhere),
there is a layer of institutional density that moderates the direction, pace and
form of change. An important part of the learning experience during the
Waterfront Communities Project was about how the different political economy
conditions, allocative and authoritative structures, and systems of meaning
among the various project partners posed different sets of challenges and
possible solutions. It became clear that there was scope to learn from each other
through exposure to the different systems and questioning of each other’s own
systems, but limited scope for direct transfer of mechanisms and processes. It
was necessary to understand the context of each partner’s experiences, de-
contextualize these to extract key principles and lessons, and re-contextualize
in each partner’s own situation. The analytical framework proposed in this
book is seen as a tool to aid such context-aware and sensitive learning
processes.
Despite the differences between these case studies, the analytical framework
has enabled the exploration of similar waterfront regeneration experiences
across the North Sea, as set out earlier in this chapter. The ‘identity’ of North
Sea waterfront regeneration could be more clearly defined by comparison with
that of similar experiences elsewhere; but at the time of writing there is a dearth
of studies of waterfront regeneration at the scale of world regions. Publications
on waterfront regeneration tend to focus on single cases, either as monographic
papers and books or as edited collections of cases from across the world. An
exception are the volumes edited by Carmona (2003a, 2003b) on globalization
and city ports, rather than on waterfront regeneration, focusing, in turn, on the
Northern and Southern Hemispheres; but these do not provide a characterization
of waterfront regeneration at the scale of regions (such as, for example, Western
Europe or Latin America). The analytical framework used in this book could
provide a platform for comparative studies of waterfront regeneration
experiences across different regions of the world.

Challenges ahead
Having presented key experiences in waterfront regeneration around the North
Sea during the first decade of this century, we conclude by looking at the
challenges ahead for continuing and future urban development in these
locations, many of which are relevant to developments elsewhere.
Progress in the development of the North Sea waterfronts analysed in this
book was affected by the global economic crisis of 2008. The effects of this
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    213

crisis varied, however, largely depending upon the exposure of national

economies to the slowdown. In the UK, for example, development of the
Edinburgh waterfront slowed down dramatically, with completions dwindling.
This had a negative impact upon the valuation of the landholdings in the areas
marked for regeneration. The City of Edinburgh Council had to explore
innovative ways of funding infrastructure, based on expected future business
rates. In contrast, development in HafenCity Hamburg, within a strong
national German economy that continued to create employment, carried on
unabated. This continued to underpin the strong position of the development
company in imposing strict conditions upon developers.
The bigger challenge for North Sea waterfronts, however, may be the long-
term change in the global economy production and trading patterns. During the
initial decades of displacement of port activity away from central harbour
areas, which freed up land for regeneration, the North Sea continued to be a
major hub in world shipping trade. However, during the first decade of the 21st
century, the number of North Sea ports among the ten busiest in the world
dropped from three to one.1 This is related not only to growth in ports and port
activity in Asia, but also to the increasing concentration of trade in strategic
ports. Although the economies underpinning waterfront regeneration around
the North Sea have diversified, it remains to be seen to what extent a reduction
in the world standing of shipping to and from this area may affect its overall
economy and, therefore, continuing regeneration.
Decarbonizing the economy is another major challenge affecting waterfront
regeneration. Some of the countries around the North Sea are at the forefront
of exploring ways of producing more sustainable built environments through
policy, regulation and fiscal incentives. As seen earlier in this chapter, Bo01 in
Malmö is a cutting edge example of low-energy settlement planning, specifically
designed for the North Sea climate. This level of experimentation is, however,
not yet the norm, and there is scope for much more innovation in the production
of zero-carbon waterfront settlements, for which increasingly stringent
regulations are already setting the scene.
A factor that has emerged during recent years is that large-scale generation
of renewable energy may become a competitor for land around North Sea
waterfronts. The European Union has very ambitious goals for offshore wind
energy generation, and windfarms are now being planned and built at further
distances and in deeper waters, posing new challenges in terms of logistics.
There are two approaches to the production of such facilities, one based on the
assembly of wind turbines on land, the other based on partial or full assembly
of wind turbines at sea. Germany’s massive programme of offshore windfarm
construction has led to four of its North Sea and Baltic ports having been
transformed into key logistical and supply centres. The case of Bremerhaven,
by the North Sea, shows an old port economy that was in decline being
regenerated by a concentration of different windfarm production-related
activities (research, manufacture and assembly), which has been given access to
land and municipal support. The UK’s even larger drive to increase its offshore
wind energy production is requiring the provision of onshore facilities for the
assembly and ‘shipping’ of turbines, as well as for the connection and
distribution of the power generated by these to the mainland. In Hull, a large
214    harry smith and maria soledad garcia ferrari

site adjacent to those regenerated through mixed-use developments (see Chapter 3)

has been allocated for this kind of use, thus retaining it for industrial use rather
than offering scope for further expansion of the city.
A major aim of such decarbonizing of the economy, of course, is the
mitigation of climate change and sea-level rise. Most waterfront cities around
the North Sea are heavily exposed to sea-level rise, and responding to this is a
key challenge. Responses are already being put forward at different scales,
ranging from planning to urban and architectural design. As seen in Chapter 3,
the potential of scenarios such as retreating from sea-level rise, defending
existing settlements and advancing into the sea using a variety of design
approaches has been explored in Hull and elsewhere. Waterfront regeneration
is increasingly being seen within a wider context of coastal management; but
this has not generally affected the production of more responsive and resilient
urban waterfront layouts.
HafenCity Hamburg does provide examples of solutions being tested at the
urban design and architectural scales due to the fact that it is located in a
stretch of the River Elbe which is prone to flooding, and this new neighbourhood
is not within the area protected by the city’s flood defences. These solutions
include the use of floating pontoons for public spaces, stepped cross-sections at
ground level raising all buildings above the maximum expected level of floods
and sacrificing part of the public space to the river during flooding episodes,
and the use of panels that seal off commercial premises on the promenades in
such events. These measures had already been put to the test by flooding
episodes on more than one occasion by the end of the decade.
A challenge that is increasingly being acknowledged in cities where ports are
still very active is that of achieving fuller integration between city and port in a
variety of ways. This includes strengthening institutional links and achieving
synergies in transport, energy and waste. Highly relevant to this striving for
‘symbiosis’ is the concept of industrial ecology, which sees industrial processes
as closed-loop systems, where waste from one process can become an input for
another.
Linked to this concept is the idea of port development which is integrated
with local, national, regional and international economic and development
policies, seeking a large-scale approach to port regionalization. Although the
local economic impact of port activities in most European port cities is
decreasing – commonly through deindustrialization, containerization and
increased use of automated port handling technologies – regional impacts,
however, appear to have gained in importance, with increasing development of
port networks, regional calculation of economic impact and nodal gateways
(Dooms and Verbeke, 2007). In this context, port regionalization is seen as an
approach to defining logistic sites, multimodal transhipment centres, primary
and secondary logistics zones, and logistics poles (Notteboom and Rodrigue,
2005). These changes at regional level may also have an effect on each specific
waterfront area in the near future, generating new pressures and dynamics for
development.
Finally, returning to Shaw’s (2001) suggestion that a fourth generation of
post-industrial waterfront development may be emerging at the beginning of
the 21st century (see Chapter 1), the cases we have seen around the North Sea
 lessons from shared experiences in sustainable waterfront regeneration    215

do not necessarily constitute a generation of ideas that radically break from the
past in terms of allocative and authoritative structures, but rather continue an
evolution already begun in previous generations towards higher use of market
mechanisms and partnerships. Perhaps the most innovative aspects demonstrated
by some of the case studies have been in experimenting with forms of visioning
and engaging different stakeholders, though there is scope for further
development of these, particularly in relation to carrying through to
implementation and ensuring continuing engagement of stakeholders in a
meaningful way. The aim of achieving a strong identity is also evident in these
experiences, sometimes drawing on the ‘local’ through heritage, other times
through innovation. And key to achieving this identity, as well as to achieving
a ‘liveable’ urban development, has been the role of public space, as seen above.
But Shaw may be right in suggesting that rethinking resource use may be a key
focus for innovation in new generations of waterfront developments. The
practice emerging during the latter years of the experiences analysed in this
book suggest that what characterizes a new generation of waterfront
regeneration projects may be precisely how they deal with the challenges that
have just been described, including developing low carbon solutions, dealing
with sea-level rise and striving for integration. These are not purely technical
matters, however, and they will require creativity in the design of appropriate
allocative and authoritative structures, as well as the development of radical
ideas.

Note
1� Port activity data from www.bts.gov/publications/americas{lowbar}container{lowbar}ports/
2009/html/table{lowbar}05.html (accessed 20 July 2011).
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Index
Note: Page numbers in bold indicate figures; Page numbers in italics indicate tables.

Aalborg    12, 115–21, 116, 135–6,   Bachelard, G.    154

207–9; BIG team 125–31; Catalyst Bach, Jorgen    188
team 131–5; Gehl team 121–5 Bader, M.    131–2, 134
Aalborg University    118–19 Baggesen Klitgaard, M.    38
accessibility    143–4, 158–9, 162, 181, BALTIC Centre    45, 45–6, 157–60, 172
187–9, 197 Barcelona    4, 7
action-research    12, 14–15, 17, 68, 135, Barke, M.    7
156, 178–9 Basso, K.    154
activity    19–21, 60, 67, 120–1, 141–2, Belgium    39
147–51, 148–9, 160, 163–4, 172–3; BIG (Bjarke Ingels Group) team    125–31
vs. structure 63–5, 64 Bilbao    26
Advisory Board for Urban Development, biomass energy    206
Germany    107 Bjørvika    51, 145
agency    27, 39 Black Diamond, Copenhagen    177,  
Akademirådet    179 182–3
Aker Brygge, Oslo    160–4, 161, 163, blue square concept    123, 124
165, 170–4, 205 Bo01, Malmö    164–70, 172–4, 205–6,
Alkmaar    60, 70–2 213
allocative structures    22–4, 35, 37–40, boardwalks    169, 169
50–1, 75, 77, 112, 203–6, 211, 215 boathouses    191–2, 197, 198
Alternwerder    100–1 Bohme, K.    38
Amerika Plads, Copenhagen    183 Borneo developments, Amsterdam    178,
Amsterdam    8, 11, 178, 187–8, 192, 187
195 branding    8, 125, 205
analysis of proposals    79–81, 89 Breen, A.    18
analytical frameworks    154, 170–2, 203, Bremerhaven    213
211–12 see also allocative structures; bridges    160–1, 183, 186, 189, 197
authoritative structures; systems of bridging concept    125–31, 126–7
meaning Brown, B.    154
Andersson, L.    128, 131 Bruttomesso, R.    3, 5, 18–19, 116
apartment buildings    164, 189, 190, 194 Bryggetortet    162
architectural competitions    80, 102, 145, Building and Construction
160, 163, 179 Administration, Denmark    181
Århusgade    183 Building Futures    49
Arkitema    183, 187–8, 191, 193 business districts    70, 81–2, 96, 102,
‘arm’s length’ companies    24, 41, 112, 109–12, 117, 168, 182–3
167, 180–1, 183, 192, 204–5, 207 By & Havn    181, 187, 191–3
Arnstein’s ladder    96, 97, 98, 104, 109,
111, 208 Calatrava, Santiago    169
Associated British Ports (ABP)    47 canals    185, 187–8, 188, 189, 193, 194,
Association Internationale de Velles et 195, 196, 197
Ports (AIVP, France)    18 Carlberg, N.    116
attraction of visitors/users    140–1, 143, Carley, M.    21, 39, 119
147, 151, 164, 169–70, 173, 182, 193 Carmona, M.    212
authoritative structures    24–5, 35, 51, Carr, D.    21
75, 77, 112, 203, 207–8, 211, 215 Cars, G.    74
228    index

car tunnels    73, 76, 167 criminality    86, 88, 107

Castells, M.    6, 18 criticism    177, 182–3, 191
Catalyst Team    131–5 cultural contexts    26, 40, 70–2, 102–3,
Centre for Public Space Research      120, 127–8, 154
139, 147 cultural facilities    131, 141, 145–6,  
Christensen, S. M.    116 172, 182
Chung, C.    131 culture-led regeneration    44–5, 55, 58,
Cities on Water (Italy)    18 105–6, 131, 135, 145, 151, 157–60,
‘Citizens for Hamburg’    107, 112 163–5, 171, 174, 208
city-building concept    5–8, 18 Curran, P.    47
City Hall Square, Oslo    161, 205 Cuthbert, A. R.    20–1, 27
city marketing    25–6 Czarniawska, B.    82, 90
civic engagement    207, 209
civil society    21, 24–5, 39, 207 Dalmannkai, HafenCity    104
closed-loop systems    214 Davidson, S.    97, 208
closed vistas    188, 196, 197 decision-making    78, 80, 85, 92, 101,
Colomb, C.    112 110, 112, 173, 208
commercial developments    162, 171, de Haan, H.    11
183, 186 delegation of power    104–5, 111–12,
commercial viability    187, 192–3 208
communication channels    58, 138,   de Meere, Freek    29, 69
172, 208 democracy    78, 96, 110, 112, 208
community involvement    67, 96–8,   Denmark    39, 119, 211 see also
173–4, 208 Aalborg; Copenhagen; Odense
competition dynamics    8, 26, 41, 102, densification    40, 123, 134
145, 160, 179 density    146, 185, 187, 189, 197
complexity    5, 12, 15, 56–9, 71, 193 Department of Housing and Urban
Comprehensive Plan    88 Development, US    155
conceptual factors    19, 120–1 Department of the Environment,
conflicts    163, 170, 173, 177, 181–2, 191 Denmark    181
connectivity    7–9, 43, 57, 120, 138, Desfor, G.    18, 37, 112, 179, 181–2
143–4, 149, 171, 173, 187, 209 design-based methods    115–21, 118,
consensus    15, 67, 74, 93, 138, 150, 207 129, 173–4, 182; BIG team    125–31,
consultation    43, 46, 78, 83, 92, 95, 126, 128, 130; Catalyst team    131–5,
104–5, 109, 191–2 132–3; Gehl team    121–5, 122–3
containerization    3, 6, 9–10, 99–101, design strategies    160, 172, 186–91,
179, 214 195–6
contextualization    173, 211–12 development processes    52, 191–4,  
continuity    63, 69, 164, 173 197–9
control features    36–7, 51, 95, 134–5, de Vries, J.    8
150 de Wilhelminapier    59
controversies    170, 177–8, 182, 195 dialogues    73–5, 92–3, 103, 138, 146,
cooperation    65, 74–5, 78, 81–6, 91–3, 150, 167, 173; Långgatorna    81–5,
108, 110, 142, 145, 161 82, 84; Östra Kvillebäcken    86–91, 87;
Copenhagen    143–5, 144–5, 167, 177– Södra Älvstranden    75–81, 76–8, 80,
83, 184–5, 208–9 see also 80, 81, 204
Sluseholmen discourses    26, 115, 136, 208–9
Copenhagen University    145 district identity    60–5, 71–2, 82–4,  
Copper Tower, Copenhagen    183 101–2, 123–8, 138, 164, 167, 188,
Couch, C.    7 198, 208
courtyards    189, 196, 197 Dooms, M.    214
creative class    57–8, 60, 85, 112, 138 double-programming    125
creativity    55–6, 78, 95, 117, 167, 215 Dovey, K.    115
 index    229

duplexes    189, 190, 193, 197; double Findlay, A.    110

188, 189, 196 Fisketorvet    183
Duyvendak, Jan Willem    59 Fjord Catalogue    117
dynamic planning process    131–2, 134 flagship buildings    26, 44–5, 102, 146,
157–60, 166, 169–70, 172, 174,  
early planning stage involvement    68–9 182–3, 188
Eckstut, S.    19 flexibility    101, 182
eco-houses, Malmö    168 flooding    49, 101, 214
eco-label certification scheme    205 floor management    57, 67, 205
economic contexts    7–12, 56, 131, 167, Florida, Richard    55, 57, 85
171, 179–82, 193–5, 204, 210–13   Flyvbjerg, B.    98
see also finance; funding focus groups    82–3, 91–2
economic perspective    59, 73, 75, 99– Forsemalm, Joakim    29, 81–2, 86
100, 120, 150 Fortuin, Kees    29, 59, 69–70
Edinburgh    8, 11–12, 36, 36–7, 40–4, fourth wave developments    4, 214–15
42–3, 50, 204–9, 211, 213 fragmentation    43, 117, 181–2, 191
educational facilities    103, 107–8, 120, France    6, 39
168, 186 Fraser, Derek    31
Elbe Island    107 freehold land tenure    40
Elbe River    95, 98, 101, 107, 214 Fuhrer, U.    154
Ellin, N.    27–8 function separation    81, 128, 130, 162
EMBT architecture firm    103 funding    45, 160, 171, 204, 213
employment issues    12, 73, 105, 107, future challenges    212–15
166–7, 180 Future Systems    197
empowerment    97, 111, 208
energy see renewable energy Garcia Ferrari, Maria Soledad    28–31,
English Partnerships    48 119, 153, 180–1
Enschede    58 Gateshead Quays    12, 37, 40, 44–7,  
environmental issues    7, 12, 57, 117, 45–6, 50, 153, 156–60, 158–9, 170–4,
165–6, 171–2, 192, 205, 213–15 204–5, 208–9, 211
environmental psychology    154–5 Gehl, J.    121, 125, 139, 147, 149, 162
European Commission    38 Gehl Team    121–5
European Housing Expo    165 Gemzøe, L.    121, 125
European Investment Bank    105 gentrification    58, 73, 89, 100, 112
European Union    25, 89, 91, 118, 213 Germany    38, 51, 96, 99–100, 106,  
evaluation of proposals    80–1, 142 109, 204–5, 211, 213 see also
events factor    60, 120, 141, 149, 151, Hamburg
160, 165 Geuze, Adrian    70, 178, 183, 187, 195
Exhibition Square, Gateshead    157, 158 Giddens, A.    17, 21–2, 75
experimentation    96, 119–20, 145, 167, Gilmore, J. H.    128
207–8, 213, 215 Giuliani, M. V.    154
globalization    3–10, 12, 23, 26, 39, 154,
façades design    169, 178, 188, 191, 203, 205, 209–10, 212
193–5 Goodwin, C.    85
facilitation roles    60 Gordon, D. L. A.    19
Falk, N.    4 Gospodini, A.    26
False Creek    27 Gothenburg    51, 73–5, 74, 92–3, 204;
Farici, C.    57 Långgatorna    81–5, 82, 84; Östra
Feld, S.    154 Kvillebäcken    86–91, 87, 90; Södra
feudal systems    40 Älvstranden    75–81, 76–7, 80
finance    23, 69, 75–9, 91, 100–2, 125, governance    39, 74, 96, 109, 112, 207
143, 167, 180, 204–5 Granton Harbour    41, 42, 44, 209
Financial Directorate, Denmark    181 green belt    40
230    index

Greenspace Scotland    156 humanistic frameworks    154

‘Growing City’ vision, Hamburg    109 human-scale environments    123, 147,
growth perspective    70–1, 180 150
Guardia, J.    154 Humber Quays    48, 49
Humber River/Estuary    47
HafenCity, Hamburg    51, 95, 100–7, hybridity    131, 135
102, 104, 106, 110–12, 204–14
Hague, C.    38 ice rink    65, 67
Hall, P.    56, 85 iconic architecture    26, 44–5, 102, 146,
Hall, P. A.    20–1 157–60, 166, 169–70, 172, 174,  
Hamburg    10–12, 51, 95–100, 99,   182–3, 188
111–12, 205, 207–8, 211; BIDs and identity    154, 212, 215; district    60, 63,
NIDs    109–11 see also HafenCity; 65, 71–2, 82, 84, 101–2, 123–8, 138,
Leap across the Elbe 164, 167, 188, 198, 208; place    154–5,
Hansen, A.    179 160, 167, 170–1, 173–4, 187;
Harbourscape Aalborg workshop    115, urban    8, 11, 55–6, 88, 167, 171,
119–20 173–4, 209–10
Harbour Square, Odense    140, 140–1, ideological issues    180
149, 151 implementation    38–9, 169
Harburg Inner Port    100 industrial buildings/infrastructure  
Harms, H.    9, 11, 99 re-used    22, 73, 105–6, 157, 162,  
Harnow, H.    138 183–4, 210
Harrop, K.    7 infrastructure    91, 107–8, 117, 126,
Harvey, D.    18, 20, 25, 154 130, 143, 146, 161, 167, 171, 173,
Hatharinen School, Hamburg    103 185, 188–9
Healey, P.    21–2, 24–6, 75, 77, 96 innovation    12, 14–15, 56–7, 106, 130,
heights of buildings, varied    83–4, 162, 146, 149, 167, 174, 178, 213
168, 189, 197 inspirational examples    119, 178, 187,
heritage    11, 117, 127–8, 136, 139, 157, 212
172, 186, 209–10, 215 institutional frameworks    208, 210, 212
Hernández, B.    154 institutionalist approach    20–1, 25
Hertel, C.    37 institutional resources    24, 206
hierarchical approach    42 Institution of Civil Engineers (ICE)    49
Hisingen Island    86, 91 integration    12, 15, 43, 74, 101, 107,
Histon, V.    44 117, 142, 167, 171, 174
historical contexts    6–7, 9–12, 40, 44, integrative approach    38, 55, 57, 60,
47, 73, 81, 98–9, 123, 138, 156–7, 183, 208, 214–15
161, 179–83 interaction of actors/institutions    58, 74,
Home, R.    37 81, 108, 178, 192
housing    73, 80, 90, 146–7, 157, 166– International Building Exhibitions    95,
70, 181–7 see also residential 105–6, 108
developments International Garden Shows    105–8
Housing and Building Act, Sweden    76 international perspective    120, 170, 180
housing needs    40, 170, 181–2 investment    15, 26, 102, 105, 126, 150,
Hovgensen, H. H.    117 170–1, 180, 182, 185, 191, 205
Hoyle, B. S.    18 isolated developments    180, 182
Hoyman, M.    57
Hull    12, 37, 40, 48, 207, 213–14 Jacobs, J.    55–6, 63, 72, 85
Hull Citybuild    47–50 Jarntorger square, Gothenburg    81
Hull Forward    48 Java Island, Amsterdam    178, 187, 192,
Hull River    47 195
human capital    57–8 Jenkins, P.    20, 30, 38, 75–6, 85–6, 154
 index    231

Jensen, O. B.    38, 117 legal frameworks    37–8, 40, 208

Johnson, J.    47 legislation    37, 40, 78, 81, 180, 189, 206
Jorgensen, J.    179, 181–2 leisure developments    49, 57, 73, 86
leisure facilities    157, 161, 168, 183, 186
Kain, J. H.    75 Leith Docks    41–2, 43, 44, 50, 206, 209
Kaiser, F. G.    154 Lewicka, M.    155
Kalvebod Brygge, Copenhagen    143, life before buildings approach    139–42,
144, 181–3 149 see also reverse-thinking model
Kay Fiskers Square, Ørestad    144 Limfjord    117
Keenleyside, C.    38 Lindø shipyard    138
Kesselhaus district, Hamburg    103 literature reviews    17–19
Kibbelsteg, Hamburg    103 living city approach    146–9, 148–9;
Kiib, H.    30, 115, 117, 123, 127–8, 131 Copenhagen    143–5, 144–5;
Kingston-upon-Hull    47–50 Odense    137–42, 140, 149–52, 151;  
knowledge-based activities    73, 76, 85, Oslo    145–6, 146
89, 92–3 living money strategy    69
Københavns Havn A/S    180–1, 183, 192 Llewelyn-Davies    155
Kondratieff’s long wave model    9 local governments: Denmark    117, 119,
Kop van Zuid    59 138, 141–3, 150, 179–81, 183, 198;
Korpela, K. M.    155 Germany    95, 99, 101–2, 104, 109,
Kreutz, S.    103, 109–11 111–12; Norway    160, 163; Sweden
166–7, 171; UK    38–9, 41, 43–4, 46,
labour forces    23, 205 157, 160
ladder of participation    96, 97, 104, location management    57, 65
109, 111 London    4, 7, 24, 26, 35
Laidley, J.    112 long-term management    207, 213
land availability    51–2 lottery funding    45, 160
land laws see legislation low-cost housing    170, 187, 189, 191, 195
land management    38, 52 Lund University    168
landmark buildings    26, 44–5, 102, 146,
157–60, 166, 169–70, 172, 174,   macro/meso/micro-scales    156, 160, 164,
182–3, 188 170–4, 209
landownership: analytical Madanipour, A.    19–21, 25, 75
framework    22–3; Denmark    117, Magellan Terraces, Hamburg    103
145, 198; Germany    95, 99, 101, 104, Malmö    153, 164–70, 168–9, 171–3,
111–12, 204; Netherlands    70; 205, 211, 213
Norway    160, 163–4; Sweden    75, 77, Malmö University    167–8
91, 164, 166–7; UK    35–44, 46–7,   Malone, P.    6, 18, 27
50–2, 160 Management of Transitions model    139
Landry, C.    18, 25–6, 128 Marco Polo terraces, Hamburg    103,  
landscaping    162–4 106
land tenure    36, 40 market-led approach    25–6, 99, 112,
land-use control    37–8, 40, 44, 49–50, 150, 181, 204–5, 207
52, 163, 204, 208 Marling, G.    117
land values    38, 101, 111, 170, 213 Marshall, R.    7–8, 18, 115–16
Långgatorna    74, 81–5, 82, 84 masterplanning: Aalborg    132;
Latour, B.    81–2, 85 Copenhagen    177, 183–5, 187, 191–2;
leadership issues    15, 37–9, 41, 46, 50, Edinburgh    41–2, 44; Edinburgh
75, 160, 173 waterfront    40–4; Gateshead    46,
Leap across the Elbe project, Hamburg    95, 170–3; Hamburg    100–1, 104;
100, 105–9, 106, 110, 112 Hull    48, 50; Malmö    164, 166,
learning processes    12–13, 78, 85, 93, 170–3; Oslo    164, 170–3;
120, 212 Schiedam    59, 65
232    index

material resources    23, 205 Nieuw Overstad BV    70

McLoughlin, B. J.    27 non-dogmatic approach    115, 136
meaning, systems of    25–6, 78, 203,   Nordkraft, Aalborg    131
208–12 norms/normative approach    24–5,  
media coverage    81, 86, 151 155, 173
mental models    20–1, 75, 86, 90,   Norra Älvstranden    86, 89, 91
206, 208 Nørresundby    117, 126
‘Metropolis Hamburg – Growing City’ Northern Riverside Model    76
strategy    100 North Harbour Freeport,
Metropolis tower, Copenhagen    197, Copenhagen    183
198 North Holland Channel    70
Millennium Bridge    45, 45, 47, 157,   North Music Trust    45
159–60 North Sea contexts    10–12
Millspaugh, M. L.    19 Norway    119, 126 see also Oslo
Ministry of Education and Research, Norwegian National Opera and
Germany    103 Ballet    51
Ministry of Finance, Germany    109 ‘Not in Our Name’ manifesto    112
Ministry of Housing, Sweden    167 Notteboom, T.    214
Ministry of Urban Development and Novy, J.    112
Environment, Germany    108 NUAB Ltd    75, 77–80
Minton, A.    55, 110 Nyhavn, Copenhagen    195
mixed-use approach: Denmark    135,
138, 144, 182, 187, 195; Odense    12, 137–42, 140, 149–52, 151,
Germany    100–1; Netherlands    56; 208–9
Norway    161, 163, 174; Sweden    73, offshore windfarms    206, 213–14
81, 85–6, 88, 90–1, 93, 168, 174; Öhrström, B.    75
UK    39, 45–6, 157, 174 Olshammar, G.    86
modernism    106, 117, 155, 178 Olsson, M.    167
mono-functionality    130, 150 Olympics    107
Moulaert, F.    7 open space management    110, 162,  
multi-functionality    19, 21, 120 169, 172
Museum of Modern Art, Opera House, Oslo    145–6, 146, 172
Copenhagen    182 opposition    108, 112, 117, 170, 177,
Music House, Aalborg    131 181–3, 191, 195
Muxi, Z.    7 Ørestad North, Copenhagen    143–5,
145, 180–1
National Board of Housing, Building and Oresund    167, 171, 181, 211
Planning, Sweden    86 organic development    70
national contexts    38, 40 see also state, organizational development    20–1, 24,
role of 65, 142, 180–1, 204, 206–7
negotiations    150, 164, 183 Oslo    12, 51, 119, 145–6, 146, 153,
Neighbourhood Improvement 204, 207, 211 see also Aker Brygge
Districts    96, 109–11, 207 Östra Kvillebäcken, Gothenburg    51, 74,
neoliberalism    11, 38–40 86–91, 87, 204
neo-Marxism    154 Overstad    70–2
Netherlands    6, 10, 38–9, 55–72, 119, ownership see landownership; property
207 see also Alkmaar; Schiedam, ownership
Schieveste
networks    57, 74, 82 paradox approach    123, 126–8, 131,
Newcastle    44–7, 157, 171 135
new institutionalism    20–1, 27, 76 parallel commissions    81
Newman, P.    38–9 parallel urban analyses    80
Niels Torp AS    164 Paris    26, 35
 index    233

parking strategies    141, 147, 158–9, prerequisites    88–9, 91, 93

189, 192, 197 presentations    79–80
participation    12, 15, 25–6, 58–9, 66, preservation approach    84–5, 162
67, 70–1, 96–8, 107–8, 111–12, 182, private-sector approach    39, 45, 95–6,
208 see also dialogues; public debate 143, 163–4, 180–2, 204, 207
partnerships    39, 50, 62, 108–9, 189 privatization    22, 25, 36, 39, 109–10,
Peck, J.    57 116–17, 135
pedestrianization    82, 146, 157–9,   problem areas    82, 86, 88, 105, 107,
161–2, 181, 183 110–11
Performance Square, Gateshead    158 procedural approach    19, 155–6
Performative Architecture profitability    181–2, 187
workshop    115, 119–20 Programme for Detailed Development
perimeter blocks    185, 187–9, 190,   Plan    86
195, 197 Project for Public Spaces    156
physical perspective    50, 55–6, 59, 73, project-initiated development    117
154–5, 205 project management    193
Pine, B. J., II    128 promenades    162, 170, 183, 188
pioneer use    134–5 property boundary patterns    36
place attachment    154, 162, 172, 174 property ownership    110–12, 164, 182,
place, concepts of    153–6 187
place identity    154–5, 160, 167, 170–1, property values    109, 126, 193
173–4, 187 public debate    77, 80, 118, 177, 179,
place-making    153–6, 164, 170–1, 173, 181–3, 192
178, 182 public development companies    24, 41,
Planning and Building Act, Sweden    78 112, 167, 180–1, 183, 192, 204–5, 207
Planning and Building Committee, public domain    116–17, 120, 136
Sweden    89 public good    95, 100, 208
planning legislation    40, 44, 78 public information    78, 102–4, 111, 138
planning processes    68–9, 81, 131–2, public interest    76–8, 80, 92
134–5, 139–42, 154 see also public-private partnerships    4–5, 11, 13,
masterplanning; strategic planning 19, 24, 49, 70, 104, 109, 126, 164,
planning systems    37, 44, 50 166, 180, 191
Pol, E.    154 public-sector approach    39, 43, 95,  
policy-making    77–8, 80, 155 204, 207
political economy perspective    20, 26–7, public space: Aalborg    135;
182, 203, 210–11 Copenhagen    143–5; Edinburgh    36;
political issues    74, 80, 89–90, 92,   Gateshead    160, 171–4; Hamburg    103,
173, 180 105, 110, 112, 209, 212, 215;
pollution    192 Odense    137, 140–2, 149, 151;
porn districts    82 Oslo    145–6, 160, 162–4, 171–2, 174
port activities    99–101, 107, 112, 180, see also open space management;
184, 210, 213 promenades; squares, functions of
port authorities    42, 47, 111, 117, 180,
191, 193, 207 quality    12, 70, 136, 147, 150, 162,
port–city separation    47, 101, 105, 116, 171–2; design    187, 191;
138, 180, 213 developments    182, 185; of life    83,
positioning of social supervisors    61–2, 137, 174, 185; living city criteria    147–9,
68–9, 71 148–9; management    61–2, 167
post-industrial phase    3–9 Queens Dock/Gardens    47
postmodernism    27, 106
power relations    98, 110–12, 115–16, recreational qualities    143, 171, 189
154, 173, 210 red line project    145
prefabrication    193 reflection    69–70
234    index

refurbishment of existing buildings    22, second wave developments    4, 6, 8–9

73, 105–6, 157, 162, 183–4, 210 semi-public spaces    146, 189, 197
Regent’s Street, London    35 separation, port–city    47, 101, 105, 116,
regional perspectives    38–9, 100, 160, 138, 180, 213
167, 170, 214 shared control    134–5
regulation    24–5, 50, 150, 205 Shaw, B.    4, 214–15
Reigstad, S. B.    30 shipbuilding    9–10, 52, 57, 72–3, 75,
re-linking city and water    11, 26, 107, 161, 167
139, 145–6, 149, 167, 178–9, 187, shipping trade    8, 12, 22, 56, 138, 157,
209, 214 210, 213–14; containerized    3, 6,  
renewable energy    23–4, 107, 169,   9–10, 99–101, 179, 214
205–6, 213–14 shopping developments    49, 57, 73, 86,
Residential Bridge    125–6, 127, 130 157, 183, 186
residential developments    44–5, 100–2, short-term solutions    117, 135 see also
107–12, 117, 125–6, 130, 159, 163, temporary use
189 see also housing Sica, P.    35
residents’ associations    189 Sjælsø    186, 191
reverse-thinking model    121–5, 122, Sklair, L.    26
135–6 see also life before buildings Sluseholmen, Copenhagen    178, 183–5,
approach 186, 188, 190, 194, 196, 198, 209;
Rhein, M.    78 design strategies    186–91, 195–6;
Richter-Friis van Deurs, C.    147 development processes    191–4, 197–9
Riese, H.    154 small-scale businesses    81–2, 91, 136,
Rigby, D.    18 164
Ristilammi, P. M.    86 Smith, H.    20, 28–31, 75–6, 85–6, 96
Robertson, R.    6 social capital    57–8, 60
Rodrigue, J-P.    214 social housing    170, 187, 189, 191, 195
Roombeek    58 social interaction    125, 154–6
Rosberg, G.    167 social issues    10–12, 15, 172
Rotterdam    4, 10, 56, 59 social perspective    55–6, 59–60, 63, 163
routines    69–70 social problems    7, 47, 82, 86, 88, 105,
Royal Incorporation of British Architects 107, 110–11
(RIBA)    49 social supervision    56–7, 59–60, 65–71,
Royal Library, Copenhagen    177, 182 205, 207; and complexity    57–9;
Rykwert, J.    5 roles    60–5
socio-democratic polity    207, 210
SAAB    164–5 socio-economic model    208
safety issues    62, 89, 163, 172 socio-spatial processes    19–21, 75
Sage Gateshead    45, 45–6, 157–60, 172 Södra Älvstranden    74, 75–81, 76–7, 80
sampling    135 Soeters, S.    178, 186–7, 189, 192–3, 195
Sandercock, L.    98 Soeters Van Eldonk Ponec    178, 184–5,
Sandtorpark, Hamburg    103 187
scale: human    123, 147, 150;   Soja, E.    8, 18, 154
macro/meso/micro    156, 160, 164, solar penetration    83, 189
170–4, 209; varied    159, 188 South Harbour, Copenhagen    185
Schiedam    12, 56–60, 61, 64, 65–70, 66, Sparks, L.    110
71–2, 205, 208 spatial strategies    12, 30, 38, 62, 65, 95,
Schmid, C. U.    37 121–3, 153–7, 171, 182, 195–7
Schön, D.    78 Speicherstadt district, Hamburg    99
Schubert, D.    100 spine concept    121–5, 123
science parks    73 sports facilities    7, 65, 67, 107, 141
sea defences    49–50 squares, functions of    140–1, 144–5,
sea-level rise    49, 214–15 149–50, 157
 index    235

stakeholders    98, 103, 108, 138, 141, Town and Country Planning Act, 1947
186, 191, 193–5, 198, 215 (UK)    40, 44
state, role of    86, 89, 103, 108–9, 155, Town Hall Square, Oslo    164
167, 181, 204–5, 210 see also traditional approaches    29, 71, 121,
legislation; local governments 123, 131, 136, 155, 178, 191
Stedman, R.    154 TRS project development    59
Steilshoop housing estate, Tummers, L.    108
Hamburg    110–11, 207 Turning Torso, Malmö    166, 166, 169–70
Stigsborg area, Aalborg    126 Tuve district, Gothenburg    91
Stock, K.    108 Tyne River    44, 157, 160
strategic planning    12, 15, 48–9, 60,   typologies    128–30, 130, 136, 146, 183,
63–5, 95, 100, 117, 150, 167, 177, 187, 189
182, 187, 197
street patterns    36, 162, 195 UC/Raumlabor Team    131–5
String of Pearls project    99 uncertainties    92
Strøget, Copenhagen    146 underdevelopment    126–7
Strömberg, K.    29, 74–5 United Kingdom    8, 11, 25, 37–44, 50–1,
structural conditions    39 96, 155, 204–5, 207, 209, 213 see also
structuration theory    21–6 Edinburgh; Gateshead; Hull; London
structure v. activity    63–5, 64 United Nations    24
St Stephen’s, Hull    49 United States    3–4, 155
Stuart-Murray, J.    36 urban design    12, 15, 21, 25–6
Studio UC    121 Urban Design Compendium, UK    155
successful place definition    153–6 urban identity    8, 11, 55–6, 88, 167,
sustainable developments    12–13, 63, 171, 173–4, 209–10
71, 74, 136, 138, 146, 166–7, 171–2, urbanization    8–9, 27
205, 213 Urban Laboratory Göthenburg    78
Svenska Bostadsmessa (SBAB)    167 urban voids    131, 132
Sweden    39, 51, 73–93, 206, 211   Urry, J.    7–8
see also Gothenburg; Malmö
Swedish International Housing Vad Stranden, Aalborg    117
Exhibition    165, 167 Valby Boat Club    191–2
symbolic factors    72 Vandkusten    191
systems of meaning    25–6, 78, 203, variation: approaches to land use    50–2;
208–12 façades    178, 195, 197; heights of
buildings    83–4, 162, 168, 189, 197;
tangential views    197 scale    159, 188
tax increment financing (TIF)    43 Verbeke, A.    214
Taylor, R. C. R.    20–1, 85 Verwey-Jonker Institute    59
team approach    69, 79, 86, 90–1, 115 Viewpoint, Hamburg    103
technical aspects    7–9, 80 views    160, 162, 164, 181, 188, 196, 197
Teglværkshaven    186, 191 Vision Group    182
Telje-Trop-Aasen Arkitektkontor AS    164 ‘Vision HafenCity’    101
TEMPO! Fjordbyen project    145 visioning processes    15, 79, 86–93, 101,
temporary use    117, 120, 127, 131–4, 109, 115, 119, 136–42, 150, 173,
133, 136, 138–9, 141–2, 145, 151, 204, 215
158, 174 vitality of cities    55–6, 62, 81, 85
Tham, K.    168–9 Vorkinn, M.    154
thematic approach    120
third-wave developments    4, 6, 8–9 Walter, E. V.    154
Thornley, A.    38–9 water dwellings    183, 189, 191
time-limited partnerships    109 Waterfront and Leith Area Development
tourism    47, 126, 160–1, 170 Framework    43
236    index

Waterfront Center (US)    18 Whyte, W.    81

Waterfront Communities Project    12–15, Wilhelmsburg Island    95, 98, 100, 105,
13, 18, 28, 37, 40, 86, 88–91, 107–8, 106, 107–8, 111–12
118, 139–42, 153, 156, 206, 212 wind turbines    206, 213–14
water levels    157, 192, 214 Wingårdh, G.    183
weather factors    12, 83, 137, 144, 148, workshop organization    119, 141
150, 162, 168–9, 189
Wegewart, Hamburg    205 Yorkshire Forward    48
welfare model    38, 109, 210 Youngson, A. J.    36
West 8    178, 187
Westerdijk, B.    59 Zaanstad    69
Western Harbour, Malmö    166–8, 171–2 zero-carbon economy    206, 213–15
wheel of participation    96–7, 97, 98, zoning    42
104, 109, 111 Zukin, S.    8