How To Build Density Into Suburbs

Suburban developments try to accommodate density

The study last week showing that first-time Bay Area home buyers need six-figure incomes to even think about the deed drove home a huge point: Unless regional growth patterns change, this will be a society of extremely weary commuters from the Central Valley.

John King, Chronicle Urban Design Critic

San Francisco Chronicle

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2004/02/01/BAGF84MJCV1.DTL

One answer is to find ways to fold new housing, even new neighborhoods, into existing suburbs. The challenge is to do this at levels of density that are higher than the old suburban norm, but which still have that "suburban" feel of family-oriented living and accessible open space.

It’s a tough task to pull off. For proof, look no further than two Bay Area projects that respond to the housing challenge in much different ways — and teach much different lessons.

At Bay Meadows in San Mateo, what’s been built is distinguished by an elegant and civic-minded neighborhood plan but marred by too much humdrum architecture. By contrast, Rivermark in Santa Clara shows that colorful architecture can make tightly packed housing less claustrophobic — but the so-called neighborhood parks don’t fulfill their residents’ needs.

Varied as the final products might be, each involves the reuse of large tracts of land that no longer served their original purpose.

The Bay Meadows project, just off Highway 101 at Hillsdale Avenue, is a 75-acre area that until five years ago served as the practice grounds for the racetrack that’s still open nearby (and where proposals for an even larger development are being debated by the city). There are three parks, two blocks of retail space with lofts and offices upstairs, 747 apartments and condominiums, and the campus-like headquarters of the Franklin Resources financial services firm.

At first glance, what took shape is barely suburban. There are only 54 single-family homes, for instance, and an old-world formality in how its long buildings frame the streets and public spaces. The visual centerpiece: a tree- lined linear park where grass slopes down to an artificial creek flanked by double rows of trees.

An inviting space

The plan is by Peter Calthorpe of Berkeley, a founder of Congress for the New Urbanism, a group that touts the virtues of pedestrian-friendly neighborhoods with a mix of uses. At Bay Meadows, this means there’s a large supermarket but also cafes across from the park; single-family homes share back fences with townhouses that look across the street at four-story apartment blocks.

Best of all, everything ties together. The place invites you in.

Despite warning signs, the creek is perfect for toe-dipping; it starts with a playful fountain where water spouts up from the mouths of frogs and turtles. From there, you see a park with hillocks and volleyball nets — and from there, a short path cuts to another park with sprawling play structures and a large, flat field for running around.

The landscape design is by David Gates + Associates of Danville. Still, the spirit is Calthorpe’s desire to create organic districts where a real sense of community might emerge.

But while the urban design hits all the right notes, much of the architecture falls flat.

The plan for Bay Meadows was approved in 1997 by the city of San Mateo with extremely tight restrictions on the shape and size of specific buildings, along with directives to strive for a "neo-traditional character."

Unfortunately, what this translated to in residential design was cookie- cutter context. Large developers rolled out safe designs in bland colors and called it a day.

The commercial buildings by the San Francisco office of the Gensler design firm are much better. The look is ersatz Santa Barbara with creamy stucco, tile roofs and shaded arcades. Yet here the dictates are handled with style: No two building facades are alike, for instance, and there are graceful accents such as the deep balconies and redwood railings of the second-floor lofts.

A whole different story

A few miles south, off Montague Expressway in Santa Clara, it’s a whole different story.

Like Bay Meadows, Rivermark converts leftover land — in this case 152 acres of the former Agnews state hospital — into a new neighborhood. When finished, there will be 1,100 single-family homes and townhouses curving around a large park with a library at one end and a public school at the other. There’s also a shopping center complete with a mini-Main Street leading to the park.

Instead of bundling most of the housing into multi-unit complexes a la Bay Meadows, Rivermark’s developer emphasizes what suburban buyers expect: detached homes. But this suburbia is compressed like a wide-screen image on a black-and-white TV: many homes three stories high and barely 6 feet apart.

If this crowding was accompanied by the monotony of too many new tracts – – vague swaths of sprayed-on beige and grey stucco — the result would be deadly.

Instead, architects Dahlin Group of San Ramon produced vivid house designs with bright colors, varied texture and at least a veneer of personality. A typical walkway in one tract has a three-story "cottage" clad in brick next to one clad in stone next to one in wooden slats and a fourth in stucco.

You also see attention to detail in the townhouses along a central "paseo. " They’re raised well above the path, set back with deep porches and lavish landscaping so homeowners don’t feel exposed.

Where Rivermark goes wrong is the very place where Bay Meadows excels: the public space.

On paper, each subdivision within this "urban village" includes at least one "pocket park." But the only thing offered by these tiny patches of landscape is visual relief: green shrubbery at the end of a crowded lane, or a glimpse of a mature (transplanted) oak out your upstairs window. I feel sorry for the parent who brings a toddler to the "tot lot" in the Glen tract, for instance: There’s a minuscule play structure on padding, and that’s it. No room to run, and no place to sit except for a stone retaining wall.

Just missed the mark

If each "pocket" had been tailored just a bit more generously — for instance, by deleting two or three homes alongside them and including those sites in the adjacent open space — the improvement in Rivermark’s quality of life would be enormous.

One can imagine confirmed suburbanites recoiling from both new districts as if they were alien life forms. But suburbs such as San Mateo and Santa Clara are no longer genteel retreats: They’re where the region’s new jobs are, with a residential mix far more complex than when dad commuted to The City and mom stayed at home with three kids.

And each new neighborhood has found willing buyers at market-rate prices. But because many of the houses are smaller than the norm, the price range is wider: Rivermark townhouses start at $505,000, compared with the Santa Clara County average of $600,000 for all new homes, including condominiums.

Bay Meadows and Rivermark show that it’s possible to expand the physical definition of suburbia. They also show that building dense livable suburbs isn’t as simple as rolling out another isolated tract of detached homes. A strong blueprint is needed — and city officials riding herd to make sure the final product doesn’t sell that blueprint short.

So consider Bay Meadows and Rivermark a start. With luck, public pressure and high quality design, what comes next should be better still.

E-mail John King at [email protected].