Bridging Theory and Practice Since 1974

Tag: Community Design

REPOST: Rural Studio & the 20K House

As a mission-driven, educational initiative, the Rural Studio has been able to commit almost a decade of rigorous analysis to the careful development of these affordable housing prototypes, illustrating the important potential of community design to explore ideas and provide services that the private market is unable to support.

In 1968, civil rights leader Whitney M, Young Jr. addressed the National Convention of the American Institute of Architects. Mr. Young was blunt in his criticism, arguing that the profession was irrelevant due to its indifference to the most pressing social issues of the time. In response to this call to action, the community design movement took root.

Building on early initiatives such as the Architects Renewal Committee of Harlem and ideas of advocacy planning, community design drew in not only architects but also planners and others interested in more participatory, democratic design processes. The movement was based on the idea that the built environment has far-reaching impacts and that everyone should be involved in its design, not just those who can afford to pay for professional services.

Over the past five decades, the community design movement has continued to evolve and today is often referred to as “social impact design” or “public interest design.” While the core principles of the movement remain the same, these shifts in terminology are indicative of changes in ideology. A wide range of design initiatives now characterize the field. This interdisciplinary approach stems from the recognition that the complex issues facing communities today call for holistic, collaborative efforts.

The work of the Rural Studio is one example of the possibility of community design. Founded in 1993 and located in the Black Belt region of west Alabama, the Rural Studio is part of Auburn University’s School of Architecture, Planning and Landscape Architecture. In 2005, Rural Studio began the 20K house project; over the past decade, students have worked to design and build small houses that can be constructed for a total of $20,000, inclusive of building materials and labor by a local contractor.

To date, Rural Studio has built sixteen versions of the 20K House – with a seventeenth iteration currently underway – and Rural Studio is also working with Landon Bone Baker Architects to ensure prototypes are compliant with building codes and FHA standards as the Studio developes 20K House into a nationwide product line. As a mission-driven, educational initiative, the Rural Studio has been able to commit almost a decade of rigorous analysis to the careful development of these affordable housing prototypes, illustrating the important potential of community design to explore ideas and provide services that the private market is unable to support.


Amy Bullington is a registered architect and 2015 graduate of the Master’s of City & Regional Planning program at UNC-Chapel Hill. As part of her undergraduate work she participated in Auburn University’s Rural Studio, where she teamed with another student to design and build Christine’s House. She has lived in Raleigh since 2006 and recently joined the team at Clearscapes, a full-service design firm located in the Warehouse District. Amy received the AICP Outstanding Student Award upon graduation.

Black Diamond: a UNC alumni-curated Third Space in downtown Greensboro

Cities are centers of activity and development with landscapes that reflect the ever-evolving pace of our lifestyles. The evolution of human activity is marked by the built environment we impose on the natural landscape. As the pace of societal change increased—whether from the horse to the car, the telegraph to the smartphone, the general store to the shopping malls—our built environments were molded to accommodate our latest lifestyle preferences. At some point along the way, we began to lose our relationship with open spaces and, consequently, our connection with one another.

urban-isolation

Urban isolation. Credit: MVMXVM

As a group of recently graduated UNC-Chapel Hill students, we decided to move to Greensboro and join UNCG graduate David Myers to bring to life our dream of a more connected community.

community-engagement

David Myers (left) and Thais Weiss (right) talk at Black Diamond. Photo: Gray Johnston

Black Diamond: a Public Backyard aims to restore and rekindle these connections that our bustling lifestyles have neglected. Black Diamond is an emerging third space, a place where folks can engage, learn, and re-connect through outdoor activities in a casual atmosphere. We’re located between two Greensboro neighborhoods, along the edge of downtown and directly adjacent to the future Downtown Greenway.

photo-of-downtown-greensboro_google-maps

Black Diamond (located at the gray marker) is blocks from downtown Greensboro. Source: Google Maps

planting-1

DeAngelo Bowden is a Greensboro native, and attends Appalachian State University. He is completing his capstone project at Black Diamond. Photo: Gray Johnston

We are creating a place that encourages people to slow down and reconnect in ways that are meaningful to them. Whether it be through gardening, music, art, yoga or potluck dinners—our public backyard provides people the resources they need to reconnect with one another and their environment. On a larger scale, we see our public backyard as part of a growing movement that is recapturing and redefining the value of open spaces as third spaces.

Third spaces are public places on neutral ground in a community where people can gather and interact. In contrast, the first and second spaces are home and work.  Third spaces host the regular, voluntary, informal, and happily anticipated gathers of individuals.[1] While these spaces have typically been defined as coffee shops, bars or sidewalks, the growing third space movement is being translated to open urban spaces.

Although open space is limited in many cities, what these third urban spaces lack in acreage, they make up for in terms of social value. Since many first and second spaces operate within our fast paced lifestyles, they subsequently encourage the development of our built environments, and often at the expense of open space. The value in redefined third spaces is that they operate outside of fast paced lifestyles and encourage the preservation of open spaces.

green

As a third space, Black Diamond values the preservation of open space. Photo: Gray Johnston

We moved to Greensboro because we see in these almost two acres of land the opportunity to reimagine what urban living is. Greensboro is affordable, culturally diverse, centrally located in North Carolina, relatively walkable and bikeable, and has preserved much of its greenery.  Like-minded people and projects are popping up all around the city, such as Greensboro Project Space and Forge Greensboro! The people, their projects and the 5 Universities in the city amount to a fertile environment for collaborations.

Since arriving in May we have begun collaborating with a Guilford College student to build garden beds, an Appalachian State University student who is a Greensboro native for his capstone project, a UNCG researcher to install beehives, and both The Arc of Greensboro  and The Arc of High Point for a community-based art project on our fence. We are also in search of donations to build a stage and a shaded area. Ultimately, we are using this space to creatively and critically engage our community.

To learn more about third spaces and our public backyard please visit our website or contact us via social media.

[1] http://www.pps.org/reference/roldenburg/

About the authors:

Gray Johnston was born and raised in Greensboro. As a recent graduate from UNC Chapel Hill with a BA in Environmental Policy, the idea of coming back home to work on a project related to the environment and community planted a seed in his head. After studying sustainable city design in Spain and Germany, Gray was inspired to pursue all of his passions and desires to live a sustainable life. He now works as an editor for Climate Stories NC, a multimedia storytelling project about North Carolinians whose lives have been affected by changes in the climate.

Thais Weiss was born and raised in Brazil and immigrated to the United States with her family in 2005. She is a recent UNC-Chapel Hill graduate with a double major in Global Studies and Geography. Thais has developed a strong interest in sustainable development and communities. In 2015, she traveled to Spain and Germany to study renewable energy and sustainable city design. Aside from being a member of Black Diamond, Thais is Administrative Assistant for the Global Engagement at UNC-Greensboro.

Molly Fisher is a recent graduate from UNC Chapel Hill where she studied geology and history. After studying sustainable cities abroad in Spain and Germany, Molly has become interested in the development of ecologically-minded communities. In addition to her work with Black Diamond, Molly is a Process Improvement & Quality Specialist for Classic Graphics, a manufacturing company in Charlotte.

 

Uber Eats and the Image of the City

The sharing economy is a seemingly unstoppable force in the modern global economy. It is changing the way the smartphone owner travels, books a room, and most pertinent to me, how they order delivery food. After reflecting on my brief stint as a bicycle courier, I realized that my deliveries took me to places I would’ve never considered visiting otherwise.

I moved to Washington, DC in June for a summer internship, fully intent on discovering the city on my single-speed bicycle. But by the end of the month, I had ridden a paltry 15 miles, and had visited only tourist attractions, parks, and the millennial-laden Adams Morgan neighborhood.

Washington is more than its Neoclassical marble behemoths. It is also complete streets. Shiny glass towers. Communities threatened by gentrification and discrimination. I found this out by delivering sushi rolls and BBQ chicken with Uber Eats, the ridesharing service’s foray into food delivery.

elevation

Critics describe the dominant architectural style of Washington DC as a mix of Federal, Beaux-Arts, and Modern. The photo above is the apartment building I lived in this summer, a prime example of Transit-Oriented Development (its front door was a 90 second walk from a the NoMa-Gallaudet University Metro stop) Photo Credit: Daniela Waltersdorfer

4142005246_f602888215_b

Union Station. Photo Credit: massmat, Flickr

United States Supreme Court

The Supreme Court of the United States of America. Photo Credit: massmat; Flickr

One afternoon in late June, a fellow intern learned I was a cyclist, and recommend I sign up to become a delivery rider using the Uber Eats platform. 2 weeks and a background check later, I owed the company, recently valued at $51 billion, $20 for a deposit on a delivery bag. I broke even after my first night of deliveries.

Using this platform to earn an extra $100 every week is perhaps the most flexible way to earn money I’ve ever encountered. I worked when I wanted to, and Uber pays its “independent contractors” handsomely when demand is high. It also offered me and other new riders a $100 bonus to complete 15 trips in my first weekend of work. When was the last time a fast food restaurant paid the new hire a bonus on the first week? My first week, I earned $55 an hour, and was hooked.

Bike Courier

While delivering for Uber, I acted as an independent contractor. This means I received no benefits, insurance, or funds to repair flat tires. I also had to pay a $20 “deposit” for this boxy backpack. Photo Credit: Brian Vaughn.

But like a shiny new bike, the glamour wore off quickly. I sweated through the DC heat dome. My phone died in the middle of a delivery (Uber gave me no directions on how to handle this, and I ate the food I was delivering for lunch). Living a second identity as a  “wannabe” bicycle courier was no longer exciting, and it was certainly not helping me like or understand DC.

And then I tried something different.

Rather than rushing to complete as many deliveries as possible, working for hours on end to the point of exhaustion, I established a routine that resulted in roughly 90 minutes of riding per night, yielding about $30 on average ($15/hour).

On my rides, I started noticing districts and where their edges, landmarks, and nodes were. I frequently delivered from restaurants on H Street, a corridor largely burned during the city’s 1968 riots. H Street’s recent commercial potential is being realized thanks in part to the deeply criticized streetcar that operates for free (according to its website, the operator will eventually charge a fare). I find it personally troubling that I was a benefactor from the gentrification of this corridor, without owning property there.

Multiple trips took me to Trinidad, a neighborhood made infamous for gun violence and unconstitutional police checkpoints. In Capitol Hill, I pedaled through what Alan Jacobs would recognize as Great Streets: the places connecting the million dollar row houses to East Capitol Street. I learned the nation’s capital also has a Franklin Street.

14th Street, Washington, DC

14th Street NE is a place that creates community, provides equitable transportation accommodations for all road users, and is very pretty on a warm August evening. Photo Credit: Brian Vaughn.

The money was nice. But the value of the hot summer nights I spent in DC was in learning how to read a city and recognize its elements: concrete and human. Walking would’ve been a better way to read these streets, but the chicken wings would’ve gotten cold.

Video: On my bike

Brian Vaughn is an Editorial Board member and undergraduate content editor for CPJ. He is fascinated with the nexus of communications, transportation, renewable energy, and bicycle/pedestrian infrastructure. A Florida native, Brian spent the summer of 2016 interning in the Office of Sustainability and Safety Management at the US Department of Transportation. This fall, he will begin his Junior year at UNC-Chapel Hill as an environmental studies major.

Planners for Public Pools

On hot days when I was a kid, my mom would occasionally load the car with a bag of towels and sunscreen and take my sisters and me to the pool. We rolled down all four windows to feel the breeze that lasted for the 20 sticky minutes it took to get there. I remember the blue-green water, thick with children’s bodies, shouting and waving and turning flips. While the pool was never particularly clean, I don’t ever remember caring. It was a break from the hot and desperate boredom of summer vacation.1

big-spring-texas

1947 postcard of midcentury pool aesthetics. Credit: Postcard Roundup

While planners love parks in many forms – from wild conservation areas and landscaped public parks to community gardens, pop-up pocket parks, and park(ing) day – they don’t always think of public pools as parks. But pools function as parks in many ways: they invite physical activity, recreation, communion, and chance interaction with strangers. The unique and intimate public realm of the municipal pool – people take off their clothes when they go to the pool and basically share an oversized bathtub – has a storied history. By revisiting this history, we can see the influence of the public pool on health, environment, and social outcomes that planners care about.

The oldest pool known to man is the 5,000-year-old Great Bath of Mohenjodaro in what is now Pakistan. The pool is so beloved that the its geometric architecture is depicted on Pakistan’s currency. Millennia later, the Romans used public pools for sport and military training. But for most of human history, public pools offered a place for bathing, and this tradition continues in public bathhouses across the world.

Mohenjo-daro

Ancient pool, Mohenjodaro in Pakistan. Credit: Saqib Qayyum

In the United States, too, the public pool was a place for getting clean throughout the nineteenth century. As Jeff Wiltse describes in Contested Waters: A Social History of Swimming Pools in America, early public pools were segregated by sex and by social class, but not by race or ethnicity. Working class immigrants, African-Americans, and Anglo whites all enjoyed the public pools together during times set aside for women and for men.

10832_8-19-1936_Hamilton Fish Pool with Play Center in background-lg

Hamilton Fish Pool in New York City, 1936. Built by the Works Progress Administration. Source: NYC Department of Parks and Recreation

The early twentieth century saw an explosion in recreational swimming, which inspired creativity in swimming pool design and size. This was also the era of segregation, and as public policy created and enforced black-white segregation in cities, municipal leaders implemented segregation in public pools. As symbols of Jim Crow and broader segregation, pools became a centerpiece of civil rights resistance.

Pullen-Park-Pool-August-7-1962-_-Flickr-Photo-Sharing.html-350x262

Six young men protest Jim Crow by taking a dip. Credit: Universal Pops Flickr user. This photo is part of an exhibit at the Raleigh City Museum, Raleigh, North Carolina.

As Wiltse writes, public pools were community resources over which claims for racial justice were articulated. In 1962, for instance, four black swimmers and two white swimmers entered Raleigh’s white-only Pullen Park Pool together in protest. The City of Raleigh shuttered the pool in response, although it was later reopened and eventually replaced with the indoor Pullen Aquatic Center. Many cities closed pools rather than integrate them, a practice deemed constitutional by the Supreme Court in the 1971 case Palmer v. Thompson because it denied all residents, not just some, access to pools.

Connect-Four-Up-Close-Photo-Credit-Monica-Peters

Swimming isn’t the only pool activity at Philadelphia’s Pop-Up Pool Project. Credit: Monica Peters, Knight Foundation

Fifty years later, many public pools serve neighborhoods or cities that still have de facto segregation, but as with any community asset, thoughtful outreach and community-building projects can help cross social and racial boundaries. Public pools have enormous social, health-related, and design potential. Planners should take inspiration from projects that have recognized the twenty-first century potential for the public pool as a community asset: In Philadelphia, the pilot Pop-Up Pool Project breathed new life into the concrete surroundings of the public pool by adding “low-cost/high-design” elements like playful furniture. Similarly, in North Minneapolis, swimmers enjoy the first modern pool that is kept clean by an ecological system and filtered by plants instead of chemicals (the pool vacuum also helps). City Lab reports on floating pools, some with swimmers and some still on paper, that rest in natural bodies of water like New York City’s East River. These projects demonstrate the potential for pools to help us move toward many different kinds of social and environmental goals.

What is the name of your favorite pool? Let us know in the Comments.

Featured Image: Pop-Up Pool Project in Philadelphia. Credit: John S. and James L. Knight Foundation

1 While writing this article, I talked to my mom about taking us to the pool. It turns out that she can only ever remember going to the indoor pool with us! The indoor pool had its own allure, with its frigid water and large group showers where adults dared to roam without even a bathing suit on.

About the Author

Amanda Whittemore Martin is an AICP-certified city planner and PhD student at UNC. She has done work in D.C., Nevada, New Orleans, Rhode Island, and across the southeastern states. Her research focuses on strategies that direct public and private investments toward shared prosperity, with a special focus on economic resilience in coastal communities. She holds a BA from Harvard and a master’s degree from MIT, and she loves to go swimming.

Seven Creative Placemaking Resources

It’s that time of year again: the Carolina Planning Journal is being copyedited and proofread and then copyedited and proofread again. And it is looking very beautiful. So: we’ve compiled a list of seven creative placemaking resources in order to get all of you excited about this upcoming volume, “Just Creativity: Perspectives on Inclusive Placemaking.”

  1. ArtPlace’s Blog Series called “The Huddle”

ArtPlace is a funder for creative placemaking projects all across the United States. This blog series spotlights “conversations” between projects and organizations funded by ArtPlace, in which they “talk through topics, get advice, and perhaps even gossip a little.” It’s a great source for local governments or people interested in creative placemaking. This series was launched in January 2016 and has already published a great piece on the funding landscape.

  1. January 2016 Volume of the Architectural Review: Culture

This volume of the Architectural Review is introduced with a challenge: “When it comes to cultural vibrancy, it is not simply a case of build it, and they will come. There is nothing more likely to put off a collective of artists than the sanitized insertion of a new-build cultural campus or the top-down creation of an artists’ village…A better investment would be the careful identification and preservation of urban subculture where it currently exists. Supporting these communities with cultural buildings, and providing long-term controlled cheap rent and subsidized start-up and studio space to keep the community together, is critical.”

  1. Volume 10 of the San Francisco Federal Reserve’s Community Development Investment Review

This volume of the Community Development Investment Review has pieces written by creative placemaking heavyweights like Ann Markusen, Darren Walker and Xavier de Souza Briggs of the Ford Foundation, Rip Rapson of the Kresge Foundation, and Jamie Bennett of ArtPlace. Two particularly helpful articles: one on financing creative places from Deutsche Bank and another on evaluation indicators from the Urban Institute.

  1. ArtForce Website

North Carolina-based ArtForce is a great resources for communities in the state that would like to create, build, and retain their creative economies.

3. Gehl Architects

The firm that helped turn Copenhagen into a bike-ped haven. These folks have developed the Public Space/Public Life survey model and have transformed many underused public spaces into famous icons of public street-life vitality. Gehl Architects piloted “Broadway Boulevard” in New York City in which for one day all major squares along Broadway were closed to automobile traffic and temporary furniture was moved in.

2. Projects for Public Spaces

PPS is a New York City-based firm known for pioneering public placemaking. It offers weekend long trainings on topics like how to create a successful and thriving public market and placemaking implementation and management.

  1. The Carolina Planning Journal

The upcoming volume of the Carolina Planning Journal, of course! We can’t wait to share an interview with Ann Markusen, articles from the Rural Studio, the Steel Yard in Providence, Opportunity Threads here in North Carolina, and more. Preview the table of contents below!

Volume 41 ToC

Volume 41 cover

Say No to Style: Community Oriented Architecture

Consider Roman arches. Arches were used in the Roman Empire because the form allowed structures to pass weight from above to below using fewer materials. The arch was so efficient that it spread throughout the Empire and became a defining characteristic of the Imperial style. Its use was, as a result, a reflection of the empire’s technical prowess and cultural values. In contrast, medieval Romanesque architecture used arches because the Roman Empire used arches. Pay close attention to this distinction: the former is contextual while the latter is imitative. This imitative approach to architecture is the type of style I feel compelled to rail against.  When I refer to ‘style’ in the built environment, I refer to a package of aesthetic characteristics including form, proportion, and material, which historically represent a natural collision of technological advances and cultural shifts.

Frank Lloyd Wright said it best: “Styles… soon become yard-sticks for the blind, crutches for the lame, the recourse of the impotent (Wright 1928).” Beyond its creative implications, I argue that a reliance on imitative styles mitigates a community’s ability to express its unique context and brand to the world. I must note that I do not consider architects my primary audience here, since most architects have some literacy on this topic and have, for the most part, already chosen a side. Instead, I write to those who design and influence the vast majority of buildings worldwide, i.e. non-architects. More specifically, I write to city planners and urban designers, current and future, who have any interest in the built environment’s role in our communities.

11971413666_ab675f210b_o

Roman Aqueduct. See Photo Credit.

Brief History of Imitative Style

Architectural imitations have occurred for most of human history, but the institutionalized exportation of imitative style did not begin until 1570 with Andrea Palladio’s The Four Books of Architecture. Palladio, a post-Renaissance Venetian Architect, provided systematic and illustrated rules based on a pure Renaissance interpretation of classical Greek and Roman building traditions. His treatise spread quickly across Europe, North America, and the world, making Palladio perhaps the most copied architect in history. Monticello, for example, was built firmly in the Palladian tradition.

Three centuries of revivals followed, introducing some of the world’s first international styles (think Mission, Renaissance, Colonial, and Neoclassical Revivals). But an undercurrent of enlightenment and industrialization forces spurred technological advances and societal shifts that allowed Modernism to supplant this dizzying array of styles. At its core, Modernism was a rejection of style itself. In style’s place, Modernist architects developed an honest expression of a building’s use and structure. While the aesthetic manifestation of Modernist ideals may not be widely valued today, they freed architecture from the restrictions of style.

Dachlandschaft der Therme Vals

Peter Zumthor’s Therme Vals (Swiss Bath House). See Photo Credit.

Proposal

Many current practitioners, particularly strict New Urbanists, believe that quaint interpretations of traditional and vernacular styles are needed for communities to be valued. I consider this a punitive approach because it obscures a community’s real contextual forces. Instead, I propose that designers build on elements of Modernist techniques and draw from theories in Critical Regionalism and Phenomenology to propose an imperfect method of evaluating whether a building is a valuable asset to its community.

First termed by Kenneth Frampton in 1983, Critical Regionalism accepted Modernist ideals but acknowledged that architecture must contextually inhabit and respond to a “public sphere” to achieve lasting cultural significance (Mallgrave and Goodman 2011, 97-107). Phenomenology, a strand of Minimalism that began in the 1990’s, similarly hopes to establish lasting cultural relevance, but with a focus on creating memorable experiences. Put simply, a Phenomenologist considers how architecture can affect an inhabitant’s senses to invoke a more meaningful experience (Mallgrave and Goodman 2011, 210-214). While I do not recommend strict adherence to either of these schools, I value their fundamental goal: make buildings that people are proud to host in their communities.

My proposal is quite simple: architecture will have lasting community value if its materiality, structure, form, and program are relevant, local, and have agency. A building is relevant when it reflects modern technologies and methodologies. A building is local when it reflects its nearby culture and resources. And a building has agency when it reflects the ambitions of its owners, occupants, and passersby. When the unique intersection of these elements are visually expressed, rather than obscured by preconceived aesthetic notions, architecture achieves a more honest beauty.

architecture will have lasting community value if its materiality, structure, form, and program are relevant, local, and have agency

7000008718_506f7e0f24_o

Peter Zumthor’s Therme Vals (Swiss Bath House). See Photo Credit.

For illustration, I apply this method of evaluation to Peter Zumthor, a Swiss architect and Pritzker Prize winner who I consider to be a patron saint of community-valued architecture. Specifically, I examine his Therme Vals, a 1990’s Swiss bathhouse (I recommend this beautiful and brief documentary for reference). I consider this a good example of how the materiality of a project expresses its unique intersection of relevance, locality, and agency.

Peter Zumthor expertly used gneiss rock throughout Therme Vals because it was locally available. The stones were methodically stacked in a complex but visually subdued pattern to stage, not obscure, the activities of bathers (agency). This pattern and scale of masonry were only possible with recent advances in construction administration technology (relevance).

Conclusion

Ultimately, I propose this replacement to ‘styles’ because I see tremendous opportunity for city planners, urban designers, and any other stakeholders involved in a community to actively define the quality of their built environment. Through this effort, I hope communities can more aptly express their unique brands to rally change for a better tomorrow. So, take this tool, test it in your community, make it your own, and share your experiences! You are especially welcome to send me your thoughts at blake.montieth@unc.edu.

Citations

Mallgrave, Harry, and David Goodman. An Introduction to Architectural Theory: 1968 to the Present. Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011.

Wright, Frank Lloyd. What ‘Styles’ Mean to the Architect. February 1928. http://archrecord.construction.com/inthecause/onTheState/0412flw.asp (accessed October 20, 2015).

About the Author: Blake Montieth comes to UNC City and Regional Planning after working in Architecture and Urban Design.  He earned his undergraduate, professional degree in Architecture at UNC-Charlotte. He is a North Carolina native and community development enthusiast. Outside of coursework he enjoys day trips to Denver and regular game nights… always to be accompanied by homemade cobbler. Blake is a first year master’s candidate at UNC and Online Content Editor for ANGLES.

Rural Studio & the 20K House

As a mission-driven, educational initiative, the Rural Studio has been able to commit almost a decade of rigorous analysis to the careful development of these affordable housing prototypes, illustrating the important potential of community design to explore ideas and provide services that the private market is unable to support.

In 1968, civil rights leader Whitney M, Young Jr. addressed the National Convention of the American Institute of Architects. Mr. Young was blunt in his criticism, arguing that the profession was irrelevant due to its indifference to the most pressing social issues of the time. In response to this call to action, the community design movement took root.

Building on early initiatives such as the Architects Renewal Committee of Harlem and ideas of advocacy planning, community design drew in not only architects but also planners and others interested in more participatory, democratic design processes. The movement was based on the idea that the built environment has far-reaching impacts and that everyone should be involved in its design, not just those who can afford to pay for professional services.

Over the past five decades, the community design movement has continued to evolve and today is often referred to as “social impact design” or “public interest design.” While the core principles of the movement remain the same, these shifts in terminology are indicative of changes in ideology. A wide range of design initiatives now characterize the field. This interdisciplinary approach stems from the recognition that the complex issues facing communities today call for holistic, collaborative efforts.

The work of the Rural Studio is one example of the possibility of community design. Founded in 1993 and located in the Black Belt region of west Alabama, the Rural Studio is part of Auburn University’s School of Architecture, Planning and Landscape Architecture. In 2005, Rural Studio began the 20K house project; over the past decade, students have worked to design and build small houses that can be constructed for a total of $20,000, inclusive of building materials and labor by a local contractor.

To date, Rural Studio has built sixteen versions of the 20K House – with a seventeenth iteration currently underway – and Rural Studio is also working with Landon Bone Baker Architects to ensure prototypes are compliant with building codes and FHA standards as the Studio developes 20K House into a nationwide product line. As a mission-driven, educational initiative, the Rural Studio has been able to commit almost a decade of rigorous analysis to the careful development of these affordable housing prototypes, illustrating the important potential of community design to explore ideas and provide services that the private market is unable to support.


Amy Bullington is a registered architect and 2015 graduate of the Master’s of City & Regional Planning program at UNC-Chapel Hill. As part of her undergraduate work she participated in Auburn University’s Rural Studio, where she teamed with another student to design and build Christine’s House. She has lived in Raleigh since 2006 and recently joined the team at Clearscapes, a full-service design firm located in the Warehouse District. Amy received the AICP Outstanding Student Award upon graduation.