July 13th, 2015
Bologna has extraordinary light. This is thanks not only to buildings painted in rich hues of red and orange, but to the city’s 45 kilometres of sidewalk arcades, which filter the sun into geometric shadows and turn sidewalks into softly glowing chambers. These arcades are not simply beautiful: they are a profoundly democratic innovation that enshrine the notion that streets should be comfortable, accessible gathering places.
Sidewalk arcades are better known in Bologna as porticoes. They first emerged more than 1,000 years ago, but their construction was made mandatory in 1288, when civic leaders recognized their usefulness to the public. Bologna is hardly unique in this regard, as sidewalk arcades became common, either by law or by habit, in cities around the world. In prewar Hong Kong, virtually every sidewalk was sheltered by porticoes — as was the case in Guangzhou, Taipei, Singapore and every other hot, rainy southeast Asian city.
What is curious is why they disappeared so quickly in the 20th century. Even in Bologna, they grow thin on the outskirts of the city – a building here or there, but nothing on the scale of the historic centre. At least they’ve been well preserved in the core.
July 6th, 2015
Maboneng Precinct, Johannesburg
The skies threatened rain, but the streets in Braamfontein were buzzing. On De Beer Street, crowds spilled out of the ground-floor bar of the Bannister, a hotel with retro 60s signage. Across the street, the scene was even more intense at the Neighbourgoods Market, which every Saturday transforms a parking garage into the most fashionable spot in Johannesburg. Downstairs, a crowd danced to a raucous jazz band. Upstairs: cocktails, street food and clothes made by local designers.
This was not the South Africa I had been warned about by people fed on a steady drip of news stories about violence, corruption and urban decay. Johannesburg in particular has been the subject of countless sensational stories about crime and abandonment, but my visit to the city revealed something far more compelling: rebirth. For all its troubles, Johannesburg felt like a city on the up and up, a place with the hustle and energy of a great metropolis in the making. What wasn’t clear was how widely the fruits of its renaissance will be spread.
In Braamfontein, I wander into Dokter and Misses, a design studio run by Katy Taplin and Adriaan Hugo. The ground floor is a slick showroom for their colourful, eclectic furniture, most of which is made in a large workshop downstairs. “When we started here about five years ago, there was almost nothing,” said Taplin. “Then the market opened up and the critical mass started. Bars, students, cool kids, then the Nike and Puma pop-ups. It’s a spirit of creativity and expression that’s going on here.”