Problem: a couple of badly sited Hydro boxes in front of Elsie Roy School near the Roundhouse.
Scot Hein, head of the Urban Design Studio at City Hall, along with his assistant Phil Scott, came up with an elegant solution. How about a screen made up of images drawn by the students themselves, of themselves?
Other problem: no money. But they got the buy-in from principal Isabel Grant and, better yet, School Board shop manager Walter Adolph, who fabricated the screen in house.
The Concord project is often criticized for having a relentless sterility, albeit a very well designed sterility. Here’s a fine example of how time and personal touches take care of that.
What happened to car alarms?
I may be totally wrong on this – especially since we moved to a quieter part of the West End – but I don’t think I’m hearing as many car alarms going off. Particularly at night. I asked a few others about this, and they concurred.
Maybe it was because car owners realized the alarms were being ignored, or reset their sensitivity, or replaced them with bars on the steering wheel, or I’m going deaf. Whatever. But thank you, thank you.
In a comment to “Car-less in Vancouver,” Seattle reader Patrick McGrath asks:
Are societal ills like those mentioned in the Sun articles (here and here) part of your calculus when you teach about increased density, nonmotorized transport, etc? If so, how do you address the intersection of your work with those issues?
A tough question, and one I’ve struggled with over the years, both as a writer and politician. Given the recent headlines and letters in the local papers, the subject of street disorder is one a lot of Vancouverites are struggling with today. In Alan Durning’s comments referenced in the previous post, he notes that the city’s mayor Sam Sullivan “sees the scourge of petty crime, drug dealing, and aggressive panhandling as a first-order threat to Vancouver’s urban renaissance.”
So let me add some perspective.
First night of the fireworks at English Bay. Just us and a quarter million of our neighbours.
I’m not sure why photographers try to capture fireworks, or sunsets. The result is always going to be a little disappointing, since you’re turning something that generates light into something that reflects it. So we get a little arty instead.
But here’s something you might not have seen if you don’t stick around after the crowds have dispersed. Down on Beach Avenue by the Aquatic Centre, there’s a convoy of sanitation trucks waiting to move into action, preceded by a phalanx of motorcycle cops, their lights ablaze.
As the parade gets underway, there are cheers from the balconies above; people applaud from the curbs. Someone even has a trumpet. This must be a thrill for guys in the Engineering Department. Talk about respect.
And for boys, who are genetically programmed to get off on trucks, the engineering parade must be a bigger blast than the fireworks.
Just over two years ago, when I was first started Price Tags, Khenko was on the cover of No. 28. Khenko is Coast Salish for the Great Blue Heron – in this case, the wired version.
Artist Doug Taylor had a vision for a work of art that would celebrate the bird’s return to False Creek: sail-covered blades to capture the wind and move the gears that in turn would raise and lower the wings of the heron. He had a model too:
Now it’s not just a model. Khenko is flying. The sculpture was raised last Friday.
You can see the sail-blades from Granville Island. In fact Khenko is visible from many points along the Creek, since it’s placed at the southern-most point of George Wainborn Park, on the north shore of False Creek, just east of the Granville Bridge.
Back in 2004 I wrote: “This is going to be amazing.”
A perfect day, really: sunny but not too hot. The beaches and bikeways are packed, and people seem in the mood to dance the day away. In some cases literally.
On Granville Island, a tuxedoed busker serenades the crowd with French ballads. A young couple finds just the right tempo to dance to his songs, and because they’re good, because they can really dance, their performance enchants the surrounding audience. They, however, only have eyes for each other as they dance among the pigeons and the children, perfectly in step and, you’d guess, in love. If it wasn’t all happening spontaneously, it would seem way too hokey. But it isn’t, of course. It’s a Sunday afternoon on Granville Island.
Not too far away, on Kits Beach, another kind of dance. I’m not really sure who they were or what they do, but here’s the scene:
In amongst the beautiful bodies, seated in a circle, half-dressed in white, chanting to the beat of some oddly shaped instruments, these young people from a myriad of races watch two of their own engage in what seems to be a highly choreographed version of martial arts. “Dance fighting,” says one of the observers.
Whatever it is (something Brazilian, perhaps), it’s perfect for Kits Beach.
Oh man, I love this city in the sunshine.Read more »