This essay is the third in a series of works by urban designer Mikael Colville Andersen, who was reported by Kyiv, called urbanism in the age of war. Read more in this series here.
I think it’s safe to say that things haven’t progressed much in the past few years as much as we might have hoped. A global pandemic, a brutal invasion of Ukraine that threatens the security of Europe, a geopolitical invasion that looms above all of its fueled by the White House, a dark cloud of climate change.
But hey, I’m Danish, we have an expression for this: “There’s nothing worse than something that’s not good.”
Since the early days of the pandemic, I have begun to document how cities and urban citizens are responding to the crisis. The scientific community has gone beyond developing vaccines at a record time, but what happened in our city was clearly low tech.
Think about that. Many people worked from home, which caused a series of effects. We have proven to skeptical employers that productivity can flourish when people have a say in work-life balance. We walked the neighborhood more than ever before, reconnected with the local environment and gained a stronger sense of ownership. I discovered previously invisible parks, sculptures and cool spaces that were tucked into the corner of my Copenhagen area. I have noticed the details of the architecture of the building that I have passed over 20 years.
I began to see the potential for urban infills and documented which streets had more trees than the others. We wouldn’t have had time to do that without lockdown. Add to that, the unexpected joy of the street, missing the soundtrack of car noise and amplified bird sounds.
A slow, bureaucratic city suddenly showed that they could turn quickly (who knew?!) injected creativity into public space solutions. Temporary bike lanes and expanded sidewalks have appeared around the world to provide alternatives to nerve transport riders as well as social distancing. Cool cities like Paris and Milan saw this as an important opportunity. Most of the new infrastructure is becoming permanent in these cities.
Many other cities retreated and removed “temporary” interventions. But one heritage remains in most of the world: outdoor seating. It was a huge success, taking away some parking spaces to provide bar and restaurant rooms for tables and chairs. And yes – people are sitting outside in cold weather. That’s what I said.
Like the mayor of Vilnius, who transformed the main square into the “world’s largest cafe,” he praised the legend of his age of symbiosis. Yes, he wanted the corporation to survive, but he also knew something else. This means that urban citizens have a deep desire to remain part of urban theatres.
Everything else feels chaotic and our lives are overwhelmed, and simply sitting on a table or a bench in the city will become the needs of Maslovia. Bricks, mortar, and wood are proof of the quiet we still stand. That we are still here. The city life scene becomes a calm pillar in the midst of chaos.
And this wasn’t from a “smart city.” It came from clever people who make the city more liveable when everything else falls apart. And the best part? The solution that worked was beautifully similar. paint. bench. Straw veil. Zip tie and plywood. Silicon Valley Tech bra is not required.
We went back to the future and elicited a basic urban concept from 7,000 years of human city creation before car-centric planning derailed it all.
Fast forward a bit. On February 24, 2022, the world was shocked as Russia launched a massive, illegal and brutal invasion of a European country. I came to Ukraine in June 2022, and ever since, I have been adamant at the countless ways Ukrainians in the city responded to hardships, and I was amazed at the simplicity of it all.
We have seen enough dystopian fiction, so I think we know how to deal with extreme adversity. But when you peel off the Hollywood luster of these films and series, there are details of the city where off-grid life, preparation and bikes ring as an important tool.
Yeah. Ukraine saw it all and shrugged it and raised it. It’s hard to summarise everything I’ve seen and become a part of it. That is constant. It fills my daily life in Kiev and other cities.
First – always in my career – bike. A few years ago I wrote about how bicycles are essential in times of crisis. At that time, I had little idea about seeing it every day. Second hand donated bicycles I brought from Europe have become lifelines. One undesirable bike becomes a liberation vehicle. Social workers use them to deliver food, water, humanitarian aid, and medicine to vulnerable citizens in broken areas. I see bikes everywhere and transport what they have been designed to do for over 130 years: people and goods.
In Mykolaiv, where water supplies were destroyed early in the invasion, the city converted trams and trolley buses into mobile water stations. There is no app. There are no high-tech startups. Just a practical and honest response. It was a masterclass in dual purpose infrastructure. The theme that is now constantly occupying my heart.
A Ukrainian colleague told me when designing the cycling strategy for Mikolife, he said, “Hey, remember the evacuation routes…” of course. of course. During the early days of the invasion, so many Ukrainians grabbed bicycles and used them to escape from the invading forces. I had never planned a cycling network for both my daily commute and wartime evacuation. But now I think about it every time.
In Japan, they far outperform the curve when it comes to dual designs. Facing earthquakes and tsunamis, they use dual designs in nearby parks, combining landscape architecture and disaster preparation.
During the first winter of the invasion, Russia targeted Ukrainian energy infrastructure. the goal? Freeze and subjugate the Ukrainians. response? Generator. Anywhere. There was one outside in the small cafe for the coffee machine. The hotel ran throughout the building. My office has something that illuminates the space with just one pull. Certainly, burning diesel is no longer cool, but here, the low hum of that simple machine is the sound of resilience.
There is always an opportunity for positive urban change in the crisis. At Kyiv, where I volunteer every day, I live in Podil. This is a proud, independent historic neighborhood. Beautiful architecture, third wave coffee, and a clear civic spirit.
It started with a sad, devastated parklet, one of the first in the city. It was installed by a local architect several years ago and was in ruins. I spent 50 euros on paint and grabbed some friends and beer to bring it back to life. The swing has also been corrected.
the next day? The children are shaking, teenagers, and older women chatting. Afterwards, we repaired an unbelievable outdoor ping pong table. Low effort. Low cost. Immediate impact. Several basketball guys wandered around. “Can we help?”
yes. Always yes. That’s how you can enable public spaces. It has a presence, trust, paintbrush or drill, rather than white paper or predictive analytics. More than that is needed. All streets, in all cities.
The beauty of analog solutions is their adaptability. The pandemic and the war in Ukraine made that clear. The same basic idea applies to the biggest challenge we face: climate change. No, it’s not flashy. It’s basic and practical.
I don’t know about your Instagram feed, but the algorithms know what I want to see. My feed is filled with ideas and solutions to mitigate climate change. They are all beautiful, simple, practical, and ready for implementation. I’m from Copenhagen. Copenhagen is the only city in the world with city-wide climate adaptation plans, with over a decade of work already creating “sponge cities” and working on a new normal, massive cloudburst. Permeable surfaces, reservoirs, pumps. The goodness of low technology.
The streets should move people in peace and evacuate them in war. Public spaces welcome spring life and store water during the millennium storm. Infrastructure should be beautiful on a good day, and in the worst case scenarios it is essential.
I am one of my most crazy projects. This is the world’s largest temporary urbanist venture in the historic Kontraktova Square called Torv Kyiv. Convert 11,000 m3 of lively asphalt into spaces with seating, trees, plants, shade and physical activity. why? Urbanism is always good for mental health, when done right. It also shows how to reduce the heat island effect, improve biodiversity, and give citizens space ownership. It was all built and implemented with a tireless army of volunteers.
It is always said that smart cities are the future. The next wave of city life is managed by sensors, optimized by AI, and frictionless by platforms. Homo Sapiens are essentially “techno optimalists,” and their questionable personality traits have led us down so many wrong paths. Back-to-Back Crisis – After living five years in the pandemic and the war in Europe, I am sure something simpler and much more powerful:
When the grid goes down, when the system fails, when the supply chain breaks, only things that don’t rely on other people’s servers will continue to function. A bicycle for moving things. Barrel for rainwater collection. Permeable surfaces that replace asphalt. Community Garden for Food Security. Citizens planting trees. The empty cans and plastic bottles were converted to solar collectors and hot water was added. Interpersonal relationships enhanced by urban fabrics are not separated by flawed urban planning. Here in Ukraine, we have seen this truth unfold over and over again.
Proofing the future means remembering
Just as climate change is intensifying and war and economic shocks continue to emerge, thriving cities are unlikely to be the most engineers. They will be the ones they practice the most. The most agile reflexes, collective memories, and the most courageous way to do simple things. Don’t wait for the next disaster to remember how powerful it is.
Here we will discuss “green” infrastructure like these, such as “activating” and “regeneration” public spaces. They aren’t. They are ancient. Before we lose the plot, we’re just going back to where we were.
And when a disaster occurs, it is not a shining “smart city” (whatever it actually is). It will be analog darling. There are benches that double as barbecues, streetcars that supply water, and bicycle fleets that carry out logistics. Everything is led by people who know how to pivot. And don’t wait for permission.
Let’s start building that analog, human-centric toolbox. You don’t have to invent everything. Please remember.
Remember how to adapt.
include.
To listen.
share.
Take action.
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