Within four weeks of the September 4 2010 Canterbury Earthquake a new, loosely-knit community group appeared in Christchurch under the banner of “Greening the Rubble.” The general aim of those who attended the first few meetings was to do something to help plug the holes that had already appeared or were likely to appear over the coming weeks in the city fabric with some temporary landscaping and planting projects. This article charts the first eighteen months of Greening the Rubble and places the initiative in a broader context to argue that although seismic events in Christchurch acted as a “call to palms,” so to speak, the city was already in need of some remedial greening. It concludes with a reflection on lessons learned to date by GTR and commentary on the likely issues ahead for this new mini-social-environmental movement in the context of a quake-affected and still quake-prone major New Zealand city. One of the key lessons for GTR and all of those involved in Christchurch recovery activities to date is that the city is still very much in the middle of the event and is to some extent a laboratory for seismic and agency management studies alike.
Introduction In 2011 Christchurch city centre was partially destroyed by an earthquake. Government-led anchor projects were tasked with bringing Christchurch back from rubble. After a period of 7 years out of 16 proposed projects, 10 are already over time for their initial completion dates and the ones completed, are under scrutiny for failing to deliver their expected outcome.
The Canterbury earthquake sequence of 2010-2011 wrought ruptures in not only the physical landscape of Canterbury and Christchurch’s material form, but also in its social, economic, and political fabrics and the lives of Christchurch inhabitants. In the years that followed, the widespread demolition of the CBD that followed the earthquakes produced a bleak landscape of grey rubble punctuated by damaged, abandoned buildings. It was into this post-earthquake landscape that Gap Filler and other ‘transitional’ organisations inserted playful, creative, experimental projects to bring life and energy back into the CBD. This thesis examines those interventions and the development of the ‘Transitional Movement’ between July 2013 and June 2015 via the methods of walking interviews and participant observation. This critical period in Christchurch’s recovery serves as an example of what happens when do-it-yourself (DIY) urbanism is done at scale across the CBD and what urban experimentation can offer city-making. Through an understanding of space as produced, informed by Lefebvre’s thinking, I explore how these creative urban interventions manifested a different temporality to orthodox planning and demonstrate how the ‘soft’ politics of these interventions contain the potential for gentrification and also a more radical politics of the city, by creating an opening space for difference.
<b>Ōtautahi-Christchurch faces the future in an enviable position. Compared to other New Zealand cities Christchurch has lower housing costs, less congestion, and a brand-new central city emerging from the rubble of the 2011 earthquakes. ‘Room to Breathe: designing a framework for medium density housing (MDH) in Ōtautahi-Christchurch’ seeks to answer the timely question how can medium density housing assist Ōtautahi-Christchurch to respond to growth in a way that supports a well-functioning urban environment? Using research by design, the argument is made that MDH can be used to support a safe, accessible, and connected urban environment that fosters community, while retaining a level of privacy. This is achieved through designing a neighbourhood concept addressing 3 morphological scales- macro- the city; meso- the neighbourhood; and micro- the home and street. The scales are used to inform a design framework for MDH specific to Ōtautahi-Christchurch, presenting a typological concept that takes full advantage of the benefits higher density living has to offer.</b>
Room to Breathe proposes repurposing underutilised areas surrounding existing mass transit infrastructure to provide a concentrated populous who do not solely rely on private vehicles for transport. By considering all morphological scales Room to Breathe provides one suggestion on how MDH could become accepted as part of a well-functioning urban environment.
On September the 4th 2010 and February 22nd 2011
the Canterbury region of New Zealand was shaken by
two massive earthquakes. This paper is set broadly
within the civil defence and emergency management
literature and informed by recent work on community
participation and social capital in the building of resilient
cities. Work in this area indicates a need to recognise
both the formal institutional response to the earthquakes
as well as the substantive role communities play in their
own recovery. The range of factors that facilitate or
hinder community involvement also needs to be better
understood. This paper interrogates the assumption
that recovery agencies and officials are both willing
and able to engage communities who are themselves
willing and able to be engaged in accordance with
recovery best practice. Case studies of three community
groups – CanCERN, Greening the Rubble and Gap
Filler – illustrate some of the difficulties associated
with becoming a community during the disaster
recovery phase. Based on my own observations and
experiences, combined with data from approximately
50 in-depth interviews with Christchurch residents
and representatives from community groups, the
Christchurch City Council, the Earthquake Commission
and so on, this paper outlines some practical strategies
emerging communities may use in the early disaster
recovery phase that then strengthens their ability to
‘participate’ in the recovery process.
Creative temporary or transitional use of vacant urban open spaces is
seldom foreseen in traditional urban planning and has historically been
linked to economic or political disturbances. Christchurch, like most
cities, has had a relatively small stock of vacant spaces throughout
much of its history. This changed dramatically after an earthquake and
several damaging aftershocks hit the city in 2010 and 2011; temporary
uses emerged on post-earthquake sites that ran parallel to the “official”
rebuild discourse and programmes of action. The paper examines
a post-earthquake transitional community-initiated open space (CIOS)
in central Christchurch. CIOS have been established by local community
groups as bottom-up initiatives relying on financial sponsorship,
agreements with local landowners who leave their land for temporary
projects until they are ready to redevelop, and volunteers who build
and maintain the spaces. The paper discusses bottom-up governance
approaches in depth in a single temporary post-earthquake community
garden project using the concepts of community resilience and social
capital. The study analyses and highlights the evolution and actions of
the facilitating community organisation (Greening the Rubble) and the
impact of this on the project. It discusses key actors’ motivations and
values, perceived benefits and challenges, and their current involvement
with the garden. The paper concludes with observations and recommendations about the initiation of such projects and the challenges for those wishing to study ephemeral social recovery phenomena.
The city of Christchurch, New Zealand, was until very recently a “Junior England”—a small city that still bore the strong imprint of nineteenth-century British colonization, alongside a growing interest in the underlying biophysical setting and the indigenous pre-European landscape. All of this has changed as the city has been subjected to a devastating series of earthquakes, beginning in September 2010, and still continuing, with over 12,000 aftershocks recorded. One of these aftershocks, on February 22, 2011, was very close to the city center and very shallow with disastrous consequences, including a death toll of 185. Many buildings collapsed, and many more need to be demolished for safety purposes, meaning that over 80 percent of the central city will have gone. Tied up with this is the city’s precious heritage—its buildings and parks, rivers, and trees. The threats to heritage throw debates over economics and emotion into sharp relief. A number of nostalgic positions emerge from the dust and rubble, and in one form is a reverse-amnesia—an insistence of the past in the present. Individuals can respond to nostalgia in very different ways, at one extreme become mired in it and unable to move on, and at the other, dismissive of nostalgia as a luxury in the face of more pressing crises. The range of positions on nostalgia represent the complexity of heritage debates, attachment, and identity—and the ways in which disasters amplify the ongoing discourse on approaches to conservation and the value of historic landscapes.
