Is the BeltLine Atlanta’s City Square?

This is the second article in a three-part series on the role of civic space and parks in Atlanta. We want to hear from you! What is your neighborhood park? Why do you like it? Comment below or email us at [email protected].

Hello, July. What a great time to talk about public spaces and parks! And there’s a lot to talk about, from sharing what we heard in response to our last post’s question (where is Atlanta’s town square?) to answering the question with a new one (is the BeltLine plaza Atlanta’s town square?)? Both good questions! And we asked two of our city-building partners to weigh in: Kaziem Woodbury, director of Just Solutions at the Partnership for Southern Equity, and Kevin Burke, design director for Atlanta BeltLine Inc. Both bowtie wearers bring a lot to this conversation.

But it’s hot outside, so let’s dive in.

Many people, including our Urban Design Team’s Design Director Jeff Williams, join Maria Saporta in proposing Piedmont Park as Atlanta’s city square. It makes sense. Historically and culturally significant, centrally located, and now well-connected to the BeltLine, Piedmont Park serves the neighborhood, the city, and the region as a place for gatherings large and small around all sorts of civic needs.

Bruce McEvoy, our studio’s co-director of design, cited Centennial Olympic Park for similar reasons, plus the fact that it’s downtown. The catch is that the park is actually owned by the Georgia World Congress Center Authority. Atlanta is very good at making it feel like a generous public space, but as we noted in our article on public art in the city, it can be hard to tell the difference between “private public space” and city-owned public space. Speaking of which, Day’Zhanera King, an Atlanta native in our studio (they do exist!), grew up in Summerhill and says Atlantic Station was her town square growing up. It’s also not a public space. But imagine if it were. Imagine how we’d feel if Centennial Olympic Park were an actual public space, right next door to the National Center for Civil and Human Rights!

Micah Lipscomb, a senior landscape architect in our studio, has reservations about the scale of Piedmont Park as a town square. When he thinks of a town square, he thinks of downtown Asheville or Portland, Oregon, he explains. Those cities have actual squares where, say, musicians play or people protest for everyone to see, participate in, or pass by. Town squares are discrete, well-defined spaces, like “single-parcel parks” where people can gather or talk, he explains. Here in Atlanta, Woodruff Park, Hurt Park, or Georgia Plaza Park might fit the bill in terms of scale and location. And yet, they clearly don’t anchor the city the way Piedmont Park does. For example, we bet you’ve looked up at least one of those parks.

Cassie Branum, who leads urban design in our studio and across Perkins&Will, then set the record straight: Could we consider the BeltLine Atlanta’s town square? Open and inviting to satisfy Piedmont Parkers. Downtown to satisfy Centennial Olympic-ers. Mixed-use to satisfy Atlantic Stationers. Discreet and well-defined to satisfy Woodruff Parkers. Certified public.

It’s a provocative idea, isn’t it? It might even please the exceptional Atlantans among us! More importantly, it conveys the importance of the BeltLine as an icon of Atlanta: We are a great city. A global city. A vibrant city. A creative city. Rooted in community. Always on the move. A city of dreams. And plans And The BeltLine is the result of all the qualities we pride ourselves on.

Now let’s see what our esteemed partners had to say, because they didn’t take the bait.

“Maybe 80 years ago, downtown was the town square, with Rich’s department store, government, city hall, businesses, railroads, all that,” says Kevin Burke. “But since I moved here in 2009, I don’t think there’s a downtown here.” Not that he needs any more validation, but somewhere in this moment, Rem Koolhaas is nodding in agreement.

To the list of Atlanta’s “decentralized city centers” from our last column, Kevin adds the Oakhurst Center intersection in Decatur. Restaurants, a grocery store, a garage, professional offices… This intersection ticks all the boxes for pedestrians to find themselves in a classic city square. And, not surprisingly, it hosts several annual festivals.

The BeltLine, on the other hand? Not so much. “If you describe ‘town square’ as a macro-scale place in the city where everyone goes, I don’t think the BeltLine qualifies for that.” Rather, it’s a series of town squares, he suggests, in part because they haven’t yet come full circle. He and Atlanta BeltLine Inc. (ABI), however, are “trying very hard to get the World Cup over from 1 p.m. to 10 p.m.,” he says.

If the agora is not the way we do things today, as Kevin points out, then perhaps we should ask ourselves whether the BeltLine is the way we do things today. Or better yet: if the BeltLine is the way we do things today, what does “it” mean?

As it happens, that’s precisely the question Kaziem Woodbury asked us: “‘Where is Atlanta’s town square?’ seems to me to be a quest for something,” he said. “What are we looking for?”

In fact, it’s not just arrive Kaziem has reset our reset. Reframing the question is the first step to solving the problem of equity in the built environment, he says. When his Just Solutions team joins a project, they look for “a question behind the question” to uncover the underlying motivation: What does the client think they’re missing?

If the city or the ABI is the client, Kevin might respond that the BeltLine is trying to restore the urban fabric that was torn apart by the “urban renewal” policies of the mid-century. He might also respond that the public space opened up by the BeltLine is essential to the strength and durability of that fabric. If we are the client, on the other hand, we might respond that we see a need for this invaluable civic space of yesteryear. We want a BeltLine that gives us back our agora, our forum, our piazza Or ride, our medina, our rynek.

And this is where Kaziem and his team come in again with the follow-up, because identifying needs is only the first step. The next question is: what are the “people in place” dreaming about? What do they think they need or what do they need?

Maybe were The only ones who miss the town square. When we’re not building the future with our partners, we can get excited about books with witty drawings of “The Real City.” Kaziem admits that in the absence of “doing everything” in such places, people once relied on public squares to get information and exchange ideas and goods. If the BeltLine is a place for civic engagement, that’s certainly not what we’re doing. that NOW.

So, are you a BeltLine person? If so, what do you dream of for this public space? What do you miss? Are you a BeltLine person? If you don’t need a public square, what can the essential public space the BeltLine provides do for you? Your neighbors? Your community?

We started this column with the idea that “good design starts with good questions.” Kaziem asks us to do a little soul-searching. What can we make room for—together, for all of us—with this new scope? What’s our “it,” Atlanta?

The BeltLine doesn’t have to be thought of as a series of public squares, but it’s undeniable that it will connect all of our parks. And look at all the people who proposed a park for Atlanta’s public square! In the third and final article in this series, we’ll look at why parks are essential infrastructure, not just the best place to have a barbecue.

In the meantime, we want to hear from you! What is your neighborhood park? Why do you like it? Leave your answer in a comment below, on IG @perkinswill_atl, or via email at [email protected].

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