IN June of 2009, New York City unveiled the first segment of an ambitious urban-renewal project called The High Line. Built on a long stretch of derelict elevated freight rail structures that date back to the 1930s, the High Line is an urban park that traverses three of Manhattan’s most vibrant neighborhoods: Hell’s Kitchen/Clinton, the Meatpacking District and West Chelsea.
This urban park is a meandering nature trail that has sundecks, water features, viewing platforms for the Hudson River and the city skyline, as well as a traffic-viewing theater—all built upon a reclaimed elevated railway. What was once a derelict expanse of unused metal is now a cohesive and welcoming public amenity, one that offers people the opportunity to relax and walk through the city with an exciting lofted view.
The High Line has achieved great success since its opening. Dubbed as New York’s park in the sky, the High Line has been embraced by the local community and by New York itself for its advocacy for preservation and for its transformative design ingenuity. Now celebrated as one of the city’s must-see contemporary destinations, the High Line is a success story of resurrection through innovation and design.
There has been a lot of talk about this particular project and what it represents for real-estate development. More than just being a hip new park built on an old structure, the High Line is today’s model of urban renewal: a model that successfully bridges the gap between real-estate development and historic preservation.
This project proves that development does not have to mean displacement: a conundrum almost always faced by developers embarking on new projects. By governing their development projects with a sensitive and site-specific adaptive reuse approach, developers are given an economically viable method to alter and transform the urban landscape in ways that will meet contemporary needs while still preserving community culture and heritage.
Most heritage structures stand on premium real-estate properties, calling to mind the age-old question of the chicken and the egg and which came first. Development in these areas has been tricky, as historical preservationists keen on protecting heritage lock developers and investors in a stalemate. While this is effective in keeping the status quo, it also effectively thwarts urban and economic development from advancing in the process. Awareness for site-specific adaptive reuse and its many benefits, therefore, needs to grow among real-estate developers and preservationists alike, to serve as the key in breaking down the siloed mentalities held by both sides. Awareness about this sustainable and holistic approach to urban renewal, one that does not involve bulldozers and demolition crews, bridges the gap between historical preservation and real-estate development, and opens the door for projects that embrace continuity and promote change.
Understanding the capability of adaptive reuse in enhancing the sense of place of heritage sites, as well as its capability for community nurturance, is crucial. Developments that fuse historic preservation with innovative design reinvigorate their surroundings in many ways. Job creation, growth in local retail businesses, commercial real-estate development, and communication and transportation upgrades are just some of the benefits invited by this approach to urban renewal. These are changes that foster communities by creating more opportunities.
The High Line in New York City is just one example of how heritage sites can be transformed through sensitive and site-specific adaptive reuse. We, in the Philippines, have shining examples of this principle in the Tutuban Centermall, which used to be the Tutuban Railway Station; the Museo Ilocos Norte, which was originally a tabacalera warehouse; and the Nielson Tower in Makati City. The Nielson Tower is what remains of the Manila International Air Terminal, as preserved by the Ayala Foundation, and is where Philippine Airlines made its maiden flight. It also became a base for American troops during World War II and, at one point, was the official port of entry into the Philippines as the country’s premier International Airport. As it stands today, the Nielson Tower is the only pre-World War II structure left standing in Makati City and has since been adaptively reused as a library and as a contemporary fine-dining restaurant.
In the face of an ever increasing urban population, real estate developers and historical preservationists must work together—along with planners, architects, engineers and environmentalists—and become the stewards of our cities. By embracing the concept of adaptive reuse, we ensure that our future cities are economically, socially, environmentally and historically sustainable.