Saturday, April 16, 2005

Southern Village and the Rest of the World

(Our servers are down today, so I'm getting some time to write.)
We met on site Tuesday in Southern Village, a planned community near Chapel Hill. Our site was a market square area - a horseshoe surrounding a small green with retail and office. The topography puts the square on a kind of sloping plateau, overlooking rolling residential streets with private homes on small lots. I noted to my supervisor that this square felt isolated - disconnected from any major city or thoroughfare. He responded that it was actually quite a large community.

This is a moment in history when developments, even whole towns are created, ex nihilo. Sprouting en masse, as if planted in entirely miscellaneous locations. In the past, development was traceable and predictable. It was at ports and points of trade, along rail corridors, or bounded by hills. Development now is selected, as if by darts on a map. Connection is not necessary (isolation is preferred.) Landscape is irrelevant. Natural resources are unleasable, redundant to public services, or undiscovered. A master plan is concocted in a half-week of meetings and late night brilliance while the grades are cleared. Construction is already behind schedule and delays are costing everyone money.

The master plan is too small.

North and South Bloodworth



Class lines in Raleigh are obscure. Where some towns have lines drawn by railroad tracks or school districts, Raleigh's seem to be drawn by developers and the limits of intention. These two storefronts are along South and North Bloodworth Street. The transition is over about four blocks of schoolyards, ball fields, and undeveloped land. Property values transition from mid 5 figures to mid 6. More telling are the portraits of homes - dilapidated two bedrooms to Victorian sixes. Driving through this Sunday, people were out on their streets, porches and yards - more in the South than the North. The shop owner on South Bloodworth approached us asking who we were and what the pictures were for. He was, to our surprise, white, mid-thirties, with a cell phone wired to his ear. He leaned against a telephone pole while we shot his store. The landcruiser was probably his. No one approached us on North Bloodworth, except for a man asking for money for food.

As a note - these shots were my first attempt at large format film (4x5). (!)