From PCJ General Manager Betsey Krumholz:
Being from Vermont you'll have to excuse our personal interest in the Boston Red Sox. But we think you'll find the following Red Sox story worth hearing about -- especially in light of the article on charrettes just published in our Summer issue:
“For ten days [in August 2000], an air of controlled chaos characterized Room L308 in the Library Building at Simmons College in Boston. Chalkboards were crammed full of random, late-night-inspired ideas written in a vaguely decipherable scrawl. Reference books, rolls of trace paper, markers, and miscellaneous drafting tools piled high on a ragtag collection of worktables. Clumps of wires and cords stretched across the room to power laptop computers, CAD stations, printers and copiers. Empty Coke bottles unceremoniously scattered the floor. Amongst it all, clusters of casually dressed professionals and curious visitors feverishly debated the intricacies of traffic counts, aisle widths, and historic preservation standards above the combined din of ringing cell phones and a borrowed boom box pumping out strains of Elvis Costello and the Attractions.”
-- From Design Symposium A Rousing Success! Summary Report by Jeffrey Harris of Save Fenway Park.
Charrettes gather professionals, community leaders, and passionate citizens under one roof for one purpose. When done properly they harness imagination, balanced by fact and reason, and the results can be surprising. While many charrettes are organized by planning officials or development interests, this is the story of how community advocates used the charrette process to reframe one very important development discussion, and challenged public officials to see things differently.
From the earliest whispers that the Boston Red Sox were planning to build a new ballpark, the Save Fenway Park (SFP) volunteers understood clearly the threat to the historic park.
The Red Sox organization had a comprehensive vision which included not only a brand new facility, but the major redevelopment of the surrounding neighborhood. With support from the Mayor’s Office (and a big advertising budget) it appeared that the deal was done, and Fenway Park would become yet another piece of Red Sox history.
But the SFP team was not out yet. The Fenway Community Development Corporation (FCDC) had been working for several years on its “Urban Village Plan” which envisioned new affordable housing and a more attractive environment for retail and other commercial uses along an under-developed section of the main thoroughfare through the neighborhood. The location and footprint of the beloved Fenway Park, and its associated uses, loomed large in this planning.
Both SFP and the FCDC were frustrated with the “public” planning process charted by the Boston Redevelopment Authority (and the Red Sox organization) as the city deliberated the re-zoning of the neighborhood to accommodate the demands of the team. The neighborhood groups felt that the process was geared only toward the development of a new stadium, and had not sufficiently considered the possibility that keeping the existing stadium could, in fact, be a better option.
Recent Comments