Experiential Transition

The transition from one neighborhood to the next reveals a transformation of form, psychology, community, and accessibility, whether subtly or overwhelmingly. New Orleans contains many vibrant neighborhoods, each intensely unique and specific to certain demographics. Confronted with the choice to embark on an experiential route, I am curious to explore the neighborhoods I typically visit, not because I know them so well, but to analyze them in a new light and understand why my psyche interprets Bywater, Marigny, and the French Quarter as different entities. The journey I will make from Bywater to the French Quarter is a purely experiential testimony to how “physical environments influence and ultimately shape” human behavior, in this case my reaction to the conditions each present.
As I leave my Bywater home to make this journey down Burgundy Street, I immediately notice an ambience of dishevelment. Weeds exist where sidewalks should be; broken furniture is left in these areas of overgrowth and is never moved because no one uses these areas. The trees existing on the sidewalks are too low because of the lack of maintenance, and therefore a dialogue between the street and the built is not established. Some corners make an attempt at a streetscape with managed trees and semi-smooth sidewalks. The road conditions do not make the experience any better, as they are filled with cracks and potholes, leaving me somewhat numb. The houses have a rundown look as well, leaving me to deduce that people within this neighborhood have little regard for outward appearance. Some houses simply have peeling paint issues, whereas others are abandoned and create a negative energy, dividing the neighborhood at that point. Broken windows and rusted overhangs give Bywater an overall rundown aura. The architecture of the area is simply a repetition of shotgun style houses with simple ornamentation; bars covering the windows and doors are simply bars and nothing more. Fencing in this neighborhood is utilized as both security devices but also as a way to have private frontage. Residents want to experience community and therefore are constantly outside in these secure zones surrounded by a chain-link fence screen or lounging on the front porches. Despite a very poor visual setting, the sense of community is strong. Chairs of every variety are scattered throughout the area, implying that everyone is welcome to hang around for a while. Perhaps the disheveled appearance acts as form of eclectic release for the residents, where they have no real regard for superficial aesthetics and instead allow everyone to express themselves and the represent the community; underground culture triumphs superficial façade.
As I leave the Bywater neighborhood, I cross over Franklin Street into Marigny and instantly feel more secure in my surroundings. The shift between neighborhoods is very subtle at first, but is most noticeably visible in a vertical rise. The houses become two stories, and the level of maintenance increases dramatically. Street dialogue is actually considered in this neighborhood through wider less cracked sidewalks and manicured trees for shade purposes. Landscaping is embedded in the sidewalks and is very well maintained. The streetscape is inviting and provides multiple gathering points. Color is another aspect that underwent transformation; Bywater was somewhat drab, but Marigny is vibrant with both pristine house colors and eye-catching greenery. Storefronts are also more inviting; the simple choice of a vibrant blue awning and large windows makes one feel drawn to the establishment. There is even an attempt in this neighborhood to break from the traditional New Orleans architecture at the corner of Touro Street, where there is a semi-modern design of stucco, modern light fixtures, glass, and large doors. Everything in Marigny is more ornate. Even the bars in the windows are over designed, as is the trim, shutters, and porch columns. Everyone seems to the most deluxe house on the block. The feeling this neighborhood is definitely more inviting than Bywater, yet the streets are vacant. Porches are not as prevalent, and side courtyards are completely blocked off from the public. Shutter doors are more apparent here, emitting a repelling force due to their solid fortress-like appearance. Marigny has a safer, more aesthetically pleasing look, but the inhabitants are more reserved and stay in their own worlds, and the sense of community is never really established.
Lastly, I pedal into the infamous French Quarter. The first visual cue I notice is another rise in verticality, both in the built and the trees. This is a very established neighborhood, and its European origins are very apparent. The three level buildings are very narrow and densely packed. Decoration becomes even more ornate, especially in the balcony railings, perhaps in a more symbolic than competitive manner. Streetscape is also addressed here with overhanging balconies creating a narrower channel and trees creating a more intimate scale. This, however, is all for the public. The buildings themselves say very little on the first floor with simply an entrance condition. The second floor is where the French Quarter residents reside, removed from the public disarray securely but still able to observe and experience the community. Residents also escape the extreme public orientation of the neighborhood with well-blocked courtyards to regain intimacy. Safety is also a major issue here and is taken to the extreme with barbed wire and spikes, something not as common in the more treacherous Bywater due to the mythic sense of community that is lacking in the French Quarter. Even the architecture emits a medieval fortress vibe, keeping the public in its place with its massive scale.
Community in a psychological sense is vital to the stability and vitality of a neighborhood. As I traveled through each area, I discovered different cues, however subtle, made great differences in how I as a visitor felt within the neighborhood. Each had both perks and disinclining factors, and each was intensely unique despite my initial inclination that I would fail on my drive to discover these distinguishing architectural cues. I did indeed find and analyze these factors but was most fascinated that some improvement in these factors did not always mean an improvement in “community”. Overall, it’s the unique variety of neighborhoods that is most important, because not everyone wants to exist in the same type of community, which is the driving factor behind how these neighborhoods and their edges formed initially. Lyndon B. Johnson described community as a place where “each individual’s dignity and self-respect is strengthened by the respect and affection of his neighbors”. By this definition, out of the three neighborhoods I visited, Bywater was the most community oriented despite its outward appearance and security issues and therefore the most appealing place according to my wants for a neighborhood, although I felt more secure in aesthetically pleasing Marigny. A place that embraces individuality is a place that embraces community.