When people think about cities, they tend to think of certain things. They think of buildings and streets and skyscrapers, noisy cabs. But when I think about cities, I think about people. Cities are fundamentally about people, and where people go and where people meet are at the core of what makes a city work. So even more important than buildings in a city are the public spaces in between them. And today, some of the most transformative changes in cities are happening in these public spaces.
Kada misle o gradovima, ljudi su skloni da misle o određenim stvarima. Razmišljaju o zgradama i ulicama i neboderima, bučnim taksijima. Ali kada ja razmišljam o gradovima, razmišljam o ljudima. U osnovi gradova su ljudi, i to kuda se oni kreću, i gde se sastaju, to je suština toga kako gradovi funkcionišu. Ovo znači da su u odnosu na zgrade u gradu važniji javni prostori među njima. A danas se neke od najznačajnijih promena u gradovima dešavaju upravo u javnim prostorima.
So I believe that lively, enjoyable public spaces are the key to planning a great city. They are what makes it come alive. But what makes a public space work? What attracts people to successful public spaces, and what is it about unsuccessful places that keeps people away? I thought, if I could answer those questions, I could make a huge contribution to my city. But one of the more wonky things about me is that I am an animal behaviorist, and I use those skills not to study animal behavior but to study how people in cities use city public spaces.
Tako ja verujem da su javna mesta puna života i uživanja ključna u planiranju divnog grada. Oni čine da grad oživi. Ali šta čini da javni prostor funkcioniše? Šta ljude privlači uspešnim javnim mestima, i šta je to što u neuspešnim prostorima ljude odbija? Pomislila sam da bih, kada bih mogla odgovoriti na ovo, mogla značajno doprineti svom gradu. Ali jedna od stvari koje su čudne kod mene, jeste da sam stručnjak za ponašanje životinja i svoje veštine ne koristim za proučavanje životinja već za analizu kako ljudi u gradovima koriste javne prostore.
One of the first spaces that I studied was this little vest pocket park called Paley Park in midtown Manhattan. This little space became a small phenomenon, and because it had such a profound impact on New Yorkers, it made an enormous impression on me. I studied this park very early on in my career because it happened to have been built by my stepfather, so I knew that places like Paley Park didn't happen by accident. I saw firsthand that they required incredible dedication and enormous attention to detail. But what was it about this space that made it special and drew people to it? Well, I would sit in the park and watch very carefully, and first among other things were the comfortable, movable chairs. People would come in, find their own seat, move it a bit, actually, and then stay a while, and then interestingly, people themselves attracted other people, and ironically, I felt more peaceful if there were other people around. And it was green. This little park provided what New Yorkers crave: comfort and greenery. But my question was, why weren't there more places with greenery and places to sit in the middle of the city where you didn't feel alone, or like a trespasser? Unfortunately, that's not how cities were being designed.
Jedan od prvih prostora koje sam proučavala jeste ovaj maleni park nazvan park Pejli u srednjoj oblasti Menhetna. Ovaj mali prostor je postao mali fenomen, i zbog toga što je značajno uticao na stanovnike Njujorka, ostavio je veliki utisak na mene. Ovaj park sam proučavala na samom početku svoje karijere jer ga je sagradio moj očuh, tako da sam znala da mesta poput parka Pejli ne nastaju slučajno. Iz prve ruke sam videla da zahtevaju izuzetnu posvećenost i ogromnu pažnju datu detaljima. Ali šta je ovaj prostor načinilo tako posebnim i privuklo ljude? Sedela bih u parku i veoma pažljivo gledala, i jedna od prvih stvari su bile udobne, pokretne stolice. Ljudi bi došli, pronašli svoje mesto, te ga malo i pomerili, i ostali neko vreme a zatim su iznenađujuće, sami ljudi privlačili druge ljude, i ironično, osećala sam se mirnije kada je oko mene bilo još ljudi. I park je bio zelen. Ovaj mali park je Njujorčanima pružao ono za čime žude: udobnost i zelenilo. Ali moje pitanje je bilo, zašto nije bilo više mesta sa zelenilom i prostora za sedenje usred grada gde se ne bi osećao usamljenim, ili samo kao prestupnik? Nažalost, gradovi nisu tako bili osmišljeni.
So here you see a familiar sight. This is how plazas have been designed for generations. They have that stylish, Spartan look that we often associate with modern architecture, but it's not surprising that people avoid spaces like this. They not only look desolate, they feel downright dangerous. I mean, where would you sit here? What would you do here? But architects love them. They are plinths for their creations. They might tolerate a sculpture or two, but that's about it. And for developers, they are ideal. There's nothing to water, nothing to maintain, and no undesirable people to worry about. But don't you think this is a waste? For me, becoming a city planner meant being able to truly change the city that I lived in and loved. I wanted to be able to create places that would give you the feeling that you got in Paley Park, and not allow developers to build bleak plazas like this. But over the many years, I have learned how hard it is to create successful, meaningful, enjoyable public spaces. As I learned from my stepfather, they certainly do not happen by accident, especially in a city like New York, where public space has to be fought for to begin with, and then for them to be successful, somebody has to think very hard about every detail.
Ovde vidite poznat prizor. Ovako su trgovi generacijama planirani. Imaju taj stil i spartanski izgled koji nas često asocira na modernu arhitekturu, ali ne iznenađuje što ljudi izbegavaju ovakva mesta. Ona ne samo što izgledaju napuštena, na njima se oseća opasnost. Zaista, gde biste ovde seli? Šta biste ovde radili? Ali, arhitekte ih vole. Oni su baza njihovog stvaralaštva. Možda tolerišu skulpturu ili dve, i to je sve. A za investitora su ona idealna. Tu nema šta da se zaliva, niti da se održava, i nema nepoželjnih ljudi o kojima bi trebalo brinuti. Zar ne mislite da je to gubitak? Za mene je to što sam postala urbanista značilo da mogu zapravo promeniti grad u kom živim i koji volim. Htela sam da napravim mesta koja bi vam dala utisak koji se stiče u parku Pejli, i da ne dozvolim da investitori grade sumorne trgove poput ovog. Ali tokom mnogih godina, naučila sam kako je teško napraviti uspešna, značajna, prijatna javna mesta. Kao što sam naučila od svog očuha, ona se ne dešavaju slučajno, naročito u gradu kao što je Njujork, gde se za početak treba boriti za javne prostore, a da bi zatim bila uspešna, neko treba da dobro razmisli o svakom detalju.
Now, open spaces in cities are opportunities. Yes, they are opportunities for commercial investment, but they are also opportunities for the common good of the city, and those two goals are often not aligned with one another, and therein lies the conflict.
Otvoreni prostori u gradu su prilike. Da, to su prilike za komercijalnu investiciju, ali to su takođe prilike za dobro zajednice u gradu, a ta dva cilja često nisu usklađena, i tu se nalazi sukob.
The first opportunity I had to fight for a great public open space was in the early 1980s, when I was leading a team of planners at a gigantic landfill called Battery Park City in lower Manhattan on the Hudson River. And this sandy wasteland had lain barren for 10 years, and we were told, unless we found a developer in six months, it would go bankrupt. So we came up with a radical, almost insane idea. Instead of building a park as a complement to future development, why don't we reverse that equation and build a small but very high-quality public open space first, and see if that made a difference. So we only could afford to build a two-block section of what would become a mile-long esplanade, so whatever we built had to be perfect. So just to make sure, I insisted that we build a mock-up in wood, at scale, of the railing and the sea wall. And when I sat down on that test bench with sand still swirling all around me, the railing hit exactly at eye level, blocking my view and ruining my experience at the water's edge.
Prva prilika gde sam se borila za sjajan javni prostor je bilo u ranim 1980-im godinama, kada sam predvodila tim urbanista na ogromnoj deponiji Bateri park siti u donjem Menhetnu, uz reku Hadson. Ta peščana deponija je bila napuštena 10 godina, i rečeno nam je da bi, osim ako pronađemo investitora za šest meseci, ta deponija propala. Došli smo do radikalne, gotovo lude ideje. Umesto da napravimo park kao prateći sadržaj budućeg naselja, zašto ne bismo preokrenuli situaciju i prvo izgradili mali, ali veoma kvalitetan otvoreni javni prostor, da bismo videli da li će ovo nešto promeniti. Mogli smo samo da priuštimo dva bloka, da izgradimo šetalište dugo kilometar ipo, što znači da je to moralo biti savršeno. I da bismo bili sigurni, insistirala sam da napravimo maketu od drveta, u razmeri, sa ogradom i morskim zidom. I kada sam sela na probnu klupu sa peskom koji se kovitlao oko mene, ograda je bila tačno u visini mojih očiju, zaklanjajući mi pogled i kvareći mi doživljaj na ivici mora.
So you see, details really do make a difference. But design is not just how something looks, it's how your body feels on that seat in that space, and I believe that successful design always depends on that very individual experience. In this photo, everything looks very finished, but that granite edge, those lights, the back on that bench, the trees in planting, and the many different kinds of places to sit were all little battles that turned this project into a place that people wanted to be.
Dakle, detalji stvarno mogu napraviti razliku. Ali dizajn nije samo to kako nešto izgleda, već kako vam se telo oseća na tom sedištu u tom prostoru, i verujem da uspešan dizajn uvek zavisi od tog veoma ličnog iskustva. Na ovoj fotografiji, sve izgleda završeno, ali ta ivica granita, ta svetla, naslon te klupe, zasađeno drveće, i mnoga različita mesta za sedenje su bile male pobede koje su ovaj projekat pretvorile u mesto na kom ljudi žele da budu.
Now, this proved very valuable 20 years later when Michael Bloomberg asked me to be his planning commissioner and put me in charge of shaping the entire city of New York. And he said to me on that very day, he said that New York was projected to grow from eight to nine million people. And he asked me, "So where are you going to put one million additional New Yorkers?"
Ovo se pokazalo veoma vrednim 20 godina kasnije kada mi je Majkl Blumberg ponudio da postanem njegov poverenik za planiranje i poverio mi da oblikujem ceo grad Njujork. Tog dana mi je rekao, da se predviđa da će Njujork narasti sa osam na devet miliona stanovnika. Pitao me je: "I gde ćeš postaviti dodatni milion Njujorčana?"
Well, I didn't have any idea. Now, you know that New York does place a high value on attracting immigrants, so we were excited about the prospect of growth, but honestly, where were we going to grow in a city that was already built out to its edges and surrounded by water? How were we going to find housing for that many new New Yorkers? And if we couldn't spread out, which was probably a good thing, where could new housing go? And what about cars? Our city couldn't possibly handle any more cars.
Tada nisam imala nikakvu ideju. Znate da Njujork polaže puno na privlačenje imigranata, i bili smo uzbuđeni zbog ovog rasta, ali iskreno, pitali smo se gde ćemo rasti u gradu koji je već bio izgrađen do svojih granica i okružen vodom? Kako ćemo pronaći mesta za život za toliko novih Njujorčana? Ako ne možemo da proširimo grad, što je verovatno bilo dobro, gde bi novo stanovanje bilo? A automobili? Naš grad nikako ne bi podneo još automobila.
So what were we going to do? If we couldn't spread out, we had to go up. And if we had to go up, we had to go up in places where you wouldn't need to own a car. So that meant using one of our greatest assets: our transit system. But we had never before thought of how we could make the most of it. So here was the answer to our puzzle. If we were to channel and redirect all new development around transit, we could actually handle that population increase, we thought. And so here was the plan, what we really needed to do: We needed to redo our zoning -- and zoning is the city planner's regulatory tool -- and basically reshape the entire city, targeting where new development could go and prohibiting any development at all in our car-oriented, suburban-style neighborhoods. Well, this was an unbelievably ambitious idea, ambitious because communities had to approve those plans.
Dakle, šta ćemo uraditi? Ako ne možemo da se proširimo, morali bismo da rastemo u visinu. A kada bismo morali rasti u visinu, morali bismo rasti tamo gde nam automobil ne bi ni trebao. A to znači da bismo koristili naše najveće preimućstvo: naš sistem prevoza. Ali ranije nismo razmišljali o tome kako ga na najbolji način iskoristiti. I tu se krio odgovor na naše probleme. Ako je potrebno da kanališemo i preusmerimo novu izgradnju oko tranzita, zapravo bismo mogli da izdržimo povećanje naseljenosti, pomislili smo. I tu je bio plan, ono što je trebalo uraditi: Bilo je potrebno da preradimo naše zoniranje - a zonama urbanisti regulišu grad - i praktično preoblikujemo ceo grad, ciljajući gde bi nova izgradnja bila moguća, i zabranimo građenje u prigradskim naseljima, gde se prevozi automobilom. Ovo je bila neverovatno ambiciozna ideja, ambiciozna jer su zajednice morale te planove odobriti.
So how was I going to get this done? By listening. So I began listening, in fact, thousands of hours of listening just to establish trust. You know, communities can tell whether or not you understand their neighborhoods. It's not something you can just fake. And so I began walking. I can't tell you how many blocks I walked, in sweltering summers, in freezing winters, year after year, just so I could get to understand the DNA of each neighborhood and know what each street felt like. I became an incredibly geeky zoning expert, finding ways that zoning could address communities' concerns. So little by little, neighborhood by neighborhood, block by block, we began to set height limits so that all new development would be predictable and near transit. Over the course of 12 years, we were able to rezone 124 neighborhoods, 40 percent of the city, 12,500 blocks, so that now, 90 percent of all new development of New York is within a 10-minute walk of a subway. In other words, nobody in those new buildings needs to own a car.
Kako sam mogla to da uradim? Slušajući. I, počela sam da slušam, da slušam na hiljade sati kako bih razvila poverenje. Znate, zajednice mogu reći da li razumemo njihova naselja. Tako nešto se ne može lažirati. I počela sam da idem pešice. Ne mogu ni reći koliko sam blokova zgrada prešla pešice, tokom znojavih leta, smrznutih zima, godinu za godinom, samo da bih mogla razumeti srž svakog naselja i osetiti svaku ulicu. Postala sam veliki štreber koji poznaje gradske zone, pronalazeći načine na koje bi zoniranje moglo rešiti brige zajednica. I malo po malo, naselje po naselje, blok po blok, počeli smo da definišemo granične visine kako bi nova gradnja mogla da bude predvidiva i blizu tranzita. Tokom 12 godina uspeli smo da promenimo zone u 124 naselja, na 40% gradske površine, u 12.500 blokova, tako da je sada 90% nove gradnje u Njujorku na 10 minuta hoda od podzemne železnice. Drugim rečima: nikom u tim novim zgradama automobil nije potreban.
Well, those rezonings were exhausting and enervating and important, but rezoning was never my mission. You can't see zoning and you can't feel zoning. My mission was always to create great public spaces. So in the areas where we zoned for significant development, I was determined to create places that would make a difference in people's lives. Here you see what was two miles of abandoned, degraded waterfront in the neighborhoods of Greenpoint and Williamsburg in Brooklyn, impossible to get to and impossible to use. Now the zoning here was massive, so I felt an obligation to create magnificent parks on these waterfronts, and I spent an incredible amount of time on every square inch of these plans. I wanted to make sure that there were tree-lined paths from the upland to the water, that there were trees and plantings everywhere, and, of course, lots and lots of places to sit. Honestly, I had no idea how it would turn out. I had to have faith. But I put everything that I had studied and learned into those plans.
Te izmene zona su bile iscrpljujuće i iscrpne i važne, ali izmene zona nikad nisu bile moj cilj. Zone ne možete videti i osetiti. Moj cilj je uvek bio da napravim odlična javna mesta. Tako sam u delovima gde smo zonirali zbog značajne izgradnje, bila odlučna da stvorim mesta koja bi donela promenu u ljudske živote. Ovde možete videti ono što je bilo tri kilometra napuštene i uništene rečne obale. U naseljima Grinpoint i Vilijamsburg u Bruklinu, bilo je nemoguće doći do obale i koristiti je. Tadašnje zone su tu bile mnogobrojna, i osećala sam obavezu da napravim divne parkove na tim obalama, i provela sam puno vremena na svakom deliću ovih planova. Htela sam da se postaram da tu budu staze sa drvoredima od nasipa ka vodi, da su svuda zasađeni drveće i zelenilo, i naravno veoma mnogo mesta za sedenje. Iskreno, nisam znala kako će sve ispasti. Morala sam verovati da će sve biti dobro. Ali sam u planove uložila sve što sam naučila.
And then it opened, and I have to tell you, it was incredible. People came from all over the city to be in these parks. I know they changed the lives of the people who live there, but they also changed New Yorkers' whole image of their city. I often come down and watch people get on this little ferry that now runs between the boroughs, and I can't tell you why, but I'm completely moved by the fact that people are using it as if it had always been there.
I kada je to otvoreno, moram priznati da je bilo neverovatno. Ljudi iz celog grada su došli da provedu vreme u tim parkovima. Znam da su promenili živote ljudi koji su tu stanovali, ali su takođe promenili kako su Njujorčani videli svoj grad. Često dolazim i posmatram ljude kako se penju na taj mali trajekt koji sada vozi među naseljima, i ne mogu reći zašto, ali me je potpuno ganula činjenica da to ljudi koriste kao da je oduvek tamo.
And here is a new park in lower Manhattan. Now, the water's edge in lower Manhattan was a complete mess before 9/11. Wall Street was essentially landlocked because you couldn't get anywhere near this edge. And after 9/11, the city had very little control. But I thought if we went to the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation and got money to reclaim this two miles of degraded waterfront that it would have an enormous effect on the rebuilding of lower Manhattan. And it did. Lower Manhattan finally has a public waterfront on all three sides.
A ovo je novi park u donjem delu Menhetna. Rečna obala u donjem Menhetnu je pre 11. septembra bila sva u neredu. Vol strit je u suštini ograničen kopnom jer se nije moglo prići ovoj ivici. A nakon 11. septembra, grad je imao vrlo malo kontrole. Ali ja sam pomislila da, ako bismo otišli u korporaciju Louer Menhetn Development i pribavili novac za povraćaj ova tri kilometra degradirane obale to bi imalo ogroman uticaj na ponovnu izgradnju donjeg Menhetna. I tako je bilo. Donji Menhetn konačno ima javnu obalu na sve tri strane.
I really love this park. You know, railings have to be higher now, so we put bar seating at the edge, and you can get so close to the water you're practically on it. And see how the railing widens and flattens out so you can lay down your lunch or your laptop. And I love when people come there and look up and they say, "Wow, there's Brooklyn, and it's so close."
Zaista volim ovaj park. Ograde treba da su sada više, tako da smo postavili barske stolice na ivicu, tako da možete toliko prići vodi da ste praktično zagazili u nju. I vidite kako se ograda proširuje i postaje ravna da biste na nju moguli postaviti svoj ručak ili laptop. Volim kada ljudi dođu ovde razgledaju i kažu, "Vidi, tamo je Bruklin, i tako je blizu."
So what's the trick? How do you turn a park into a place that people want to be? Well, it's up to you, not as a city planner but as a human being. You don't tap into your design expertise. You tap into your humanity. I mean, would you want to go there? Would you want to stay there? Can you see into it and out of it? Are there other people there? Does it seem green and friendly? Can you find your very own seat?
I gde je tu trik? Kako pretvoriti park u mesto na kom ljudi žele biti? Pa, to je na vama, ne kao urbanisti, već kao ljudskom biću. Za ovo ne koristite dizajnerska znanja. Ovde se radi sa humanošću. Zaista, da li biste voleli otići tamo? Da li biste tamo voleli da ostanete? Možete li videti ka unutra i ka spolja? Da li su tamo i drugi ljudi? Da li se čini zelenim i prijateljskim? Da li možete sebi naći mesto za sedenje?
Well now, all over New York City, there are places where you can find your very own seat. Where there used to be parking spaces, there are now pop-up cafes. Where Broadway traffic used to run, there are now tables and chairs. Where 12 years ago, sidewalk cafes were not allowed, they are now everywhere. But claiming these spaces for public use was not simple, and it's even harder to keep them that way.
Sada se širom Njujorka nalaze mesta gde možete sebi naći mesto za sedenje. Tamo gde su nekada bili parkinzi, sada su mali kafei. Tamo kuda je saobraćaj Brodveja nekada prolazio, sada su stolovi i stolice. Gde su pre 12 godina kafei na trotoaru bili zabranjeni, sada se nalaze svuda. A pretvaranje ovih mesta u javna nije bilo jednostavno, i čak je teže održati ih.
So now I'm going to tell you a story about a very unusual park called the High Line. The High Line was an elevated railway. (Applause) The High Line was an elevated railway that ran through three neighborhoods on Manhattan's West Side, and when the train stopped running, it became a self-seeded landscape, a kind of a garden in the sky. And when I saw it the first time, honestly, when I went up on that old viaduct, I fell in love the way you fall in love with a person, honestly. And when I was appointed, saving the first two sections of the High Line from demolition became my first priority and my most important project. I knew if there was a day that I didn't worry about the High Line, it would come down. And the High Line, even though it is widely known now and phenomenally popular, it is the most contested public space in the city. You might see a beautiful park, but not everyone does. You know, it's true, commercial interests will always battle against public space. You might say, "How wonderful it is that more than four million people come from all over the world to visit the High Line." Well, a developer sees just one thing: customers. Hey, why not take out those plantings and have shops all along the High Line? Wouldn't that be terrific and won't it mean a lot more money for the city? Well no, it would not be terrific. It would be a mall, and not a park. (Applause) And you know what, it might mean more money for the city, but a city has to take the long view, the view for the common good. Most recently, the last section of the High Line, the third section of the High Line, the final section of the High Line, has been pitted against development interests, where some of the city's leading developers are building more than 17 million square feet at the Hudson Yards. And they came to me and proposed that they "temporarily disassemble" that third and final section. Perhaps the High Line didn't fit in with their image of a gleaming city of skyscrapers on a hill. Perhaps it was just in their way. But in any case, it took nine months of nonstop daily negotiation to finally get the signed agreement to prohibit its demolition, and that was only two years ago.
Sada ću vam ispričati priču o veoma neobičnom parku Haj Lajn. Haj Lajn je bio uzdignuta pruga. (Aplauz) Haj Lajn je bio uzdignuta pruga koja je tekla kroz tri naselja na zapadnoj strani Menhetna, i kada je voz prestao da ide, ovo je zaraslo u nekakvu baštu na nebu. Kada sam to prvi put videla, iskreno, kada sam se prvi put popela, zaljubila sam se kao što se da zaljubiti u osobu, iskreno. I kada sam se zaposlila, spašavanje prve dve trase Haj Lajna od rušenja je postao moj prioritet i moj najvažniji projekat. Znala sam da kada samo jedan dan ne bih brinula o Haj Lajnu, to bi bilo srušeno. A Haj Lajn, iako je to mesto slavno danas i izuzetno popularno, je najosporeniji javni prostor u gradu. Vama se čini kao divan park, ali ne misle svi tako. Znate, istina je, komercijalni interesi će se uvek boriti protiv javnih prostora. Možete reći: "Divno je to što više od četiri miliona ljudi iz celog sveta posećuje Haj Lajn." Ali investitor to vidi drugačije: klijenti. Zašto ne bismo iskopali ove biljke i otvorili prodavnice duž Haj Lajna? Zar ne bi bilo odlično i donelo više novca gradu? Ne, to ne bi bilo odlično. To bi bio tržni centar, a ne park. (Aplauz) I moglo bi značiti više novca za grad, ali grad mora planirati dugoročno, za opšte dobro. Nedavno je krajnja trasa Haj Lajna, to je treća trasa Haj Lajna, krajnja trasa Haj Lajna, bila spašena od interesa investitora, gde je nekoliko vodećih gradskih investitora gradilo više od 2 kvadratna kilometra na Hadson Jardsu. Došli su i predložili mi da "privremeno demontiraju" tu treću, krajnju trasu. Možda se Haj Lajn ne uklapa u sliku svetlucavih gradskih nebodera na brdu. Možda im je samo smetao. U svakom slučaju, trebalo je devet meseci neprekidnih svakodnevnih pregovora da bi se konačno potpisala zabrana ovog rušenja, i to je bilo pre samo dve godine.
So you see, no matter how popular and successful a public space may be, it can never be taken for granted. Public spaces always -- this is it saved -- public spaces always need vigilant champions, not only to claim them at the outset for public use, but to design them for the people that use them, then to maintain them to ensure that they are for everyone, that they are not violated, invaded, abandoned or ignored. If there is any one lesson that I have learned in my life as a city planner, it is that public spaces have power. It's not just the number of people using them, it's the even greater number of people who feel better about their city just knowing that they are there. Public space can change how you live in a city, how you feel about a city, whether you choose one city over another, and public space is one of the most important reasons why you stay in a city.
Vidite, bez obzira koliko je popularno i uspešno neko javno mesto, ne može se uzeti zdravo za gotovo. Javnim mestima uvek - ako se sačuvaju - javnim mestima su uvek potrebni budni borci, ne samo da ih sačuvaju za prvenstveno javnu upotrebu, već da ih projektuju za korisnike, a zatim održavaju da bi bili sigurni da su za svakog, da nisu narušena, demolirana, napuštena ili zanemarena. Ako postoji jedna lekcija koju sam naučila u svom urbanističkom radu, to je da javna mesta imaju moć. Nju ne čini samo broj korisnika, nego mnogo veći broj ljudi koji se osećaju bolje u svom gradu samim tim što su tamo. Javna mesta mogu promeniti to kako živite u gradu, kako se u njemu osećate, koji grad ćete odabrati, i javno mesto je jedno od najbitnijih razloga zašto u gradu ostajete.
I believe that a successful city is like a fabulous party. People stay because they are having a great time.
Verujem da je uspešan grad kao odlična žurka. Ljudi ostaju jer se sjajno provode.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause) Thank you. (Applause)
(Aplauz) Hvala. (Aplauz)