Impasse No More

Turning a Dead End into a Destination

The French have several words for a dead-end street. I like impasse, but there's voie sans issue or cul de sac - this latter implies a road that bulbs out at the dead end, giving enough space for a vehicle to turn around.  

Dead-end streets seem to have a negative connotation in America, much like back alleys. My feeling is that little streets are what you make of them. 

Philadelphia has lots of little streets. Some of them are quite beautiful, and some, like Elfreth's Alley, are even tourist destinations. And then some are terrible. And some are just muddling along, with a few nice features and a certain amount of dreck that drags the whole scene down.

The 2000 block of Latimer is a muddle street in the process of raising its game. It's a dead end that can only be entered from 21st Street. On 20th Street, St. Patrick's Church and its ancillary buildings occupy the full block from Rittenhouse to Locust.

Belgian Block

Not too long ago, a friend asked me to look at the repaving of the 2000 block of Latimer Street, which he said had been going on for nine months. The workers had carefully removed the Belgian block pavers, replaced the water main, and just now were getting around to resetting the pavers, and he was wondering how much longer it would take.

I'm glad I had a look. I'd never seen a reconstruction of a Belgian block street. It was a pretty elaborate thing. There was a concrete sub-pavement that joined seamlessly to the concrete curbs, forming a sort of bathtub without a drain. On the sub-pavement the workers laid a layer of sand; on this they placed the Belgian blocks, well spaced; and then they poured more sand into the gaps between the pavers. 

I was a bit concerned that they were creating a permeable pavement in a bathtub without a drain, but when I went back the spaces between the pavers had been capped with grout. Pretty impermeable.

I told my friend the workers should probably be done in a week or two, if they didn't go away for an extended period, which they had already done several times. I was wrong. The workers kept showing up, but the process of laying in the pavers was very slow.

So, aside from the historic preservation angle - we're a World Heritage City, so we should probably hold on to some of our legacy fabric - why go to the bother of replacing an old Belgian block street with a new Belgian block street, when it would be quicker and easier just to slather everything in asphalt? 

Have a look at the photograph below.

Now imagine what it would be like with an asphalt pavement in the place of the Belgian block. Asphalt is like a black river. It divides. Belgian block unites. See how the Belgian block and the concrete curb and sidewalk and the brick of the building and the green of the plantings are all talking to one another. (It would work even better with granite curbstones, but that's another story.)

The articulation of harmonious elements, particularly in texture and color, creates an outdoor floor and, I would argue, an outdoor room. Look at the photo at the top of this story and see if you agree with me.

Charming intimacy is easier to do with a small street than a wide street, which is one of the many reasons why I like small streets. 

The North Side

The photo at the top shows mainly the south side of the street. You can see that there's a continuous facade line,  or street wall. The north side is not quite so fortunate. Many of the north side buildings front on Locust Street and present a very utilitarian backside on Latimer.

This is to be expected. After all, back doors, fire escapes for the larger buildings, slots for parking cars - these are all part of life in the big city. The question is not what you do, but how you do it.

Take this building, for instance. I think it's just fine. I do wonder about what used to be where the new brick and the glass block window now are, but really, it is what it is, it doesn't pretend to be anything else, and I think it's reasonably well done and well maintained.

I have different feelings about this rather flimsy wood-slat wall with razor wire as icing on top of the cake. I really don't like razor wire. It's kind of a buzzkill when you're trying to create a warm, friendly, intimate street. And, in this case, if its purpose is to deter intruders rather than simply make everybody feel like they're in a war zone, I think it's highly ineffective. Any enterprising burglar would, in my opinion, hop up on the adjacent cinderblock wall and scan the area for his opportunities.

Buddy, go buy yourself a few more sensors, and hook them into your alarm system. And lose the razor wire. It's antisocial.

As for cinderblock, yes, it's ugly, but you can deal with it. My go-to suggestion is a mural. Isaiah Zagar has made a career of brightening up boring walls with his mosaics, mostly around South Street east of Broad. 

The Church Parking Lot

At the east end of the street lies a sizable parking lot that serves the various buildings of the St. Patrick's church complex. Back in the summer, I was chatting with a Latimer resident who told me that, when the street is not closed for construction, the lot is in use throughout the day, seven days a week. And this block of Latimer is the driveway.

In other words, this lot is an important access point for the church and its ancillary buildings. It is also the focal point for the whole street - the center of the composition.

So maybe it shouldn't have quite such a poor feel. Have a look at the gate. Despite the rust, it's in good condition, but it would look more at home standing outside a fertilizer warehouse. 

This is, after all, the same Catholic church that gave us the Sistine Chapel. Let's upgrade the gate. And I have a good example of what I think a more ambitious gate could look like. Let's go around to the front of St. Patrick's, where we can see the wrought-iron gate in the photograph below, complete with green trefoil clover.

The rear face of the clergy house is also problematic. There is a large expanse of blank wall above the ground floor that I think would make a lovely home for a large mural featuring a colossal rendering of St. Patrick expelling the snakes from Ireland.

The Value of Trees

Parts of this block are very bright in the sun, and parts are very shady. The mottled shade in the picture above comes from the several trees that live at mid-block. I personally think this street could do with a few more trees, although I'm not quite sure where to put them. This is, after all, a small street.

If you'd like to learn more about the ins and outs of Belgian block pavement, have a look at the website of the Philadelphia Society of Small Streets.

See also A Tale of Three Alleys, Gordon Cullen and the Outdoor Floor, City Beautiful Sprouts on Cypress Street, Small Streets Are Like Diamonds, Streets Without Joy, Second and Chestnut, Missing the Point.