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16 / BUILDING DIALOGUE / MARCH 2017
“I have also thought of a model city from
which I deduce all others,” Marco an-
swered. “It is a city made only of excep-
tions, exclusions, incongruities, contradictions.
If such a city is the most improbable, by reduc-
ing the number of abnormal elements, we in-
crease the probability that the city really exists.
So I have only to subtract exception from my
model, and in whatever direction I proceed, I will
arrive at one of the cities which, always as an
exception, exist. But I cannot force my operation
beyond a certain limit: I would achieve cities too
probable to be real” Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
One evening, while waiting on my bike for the
light to change at the corner of 18th and Arapahoe,
I watched a pair of tourists pause to take a photo. I
turned to look at what they were trying to capture
and I was surprised to see a stone staircase with
a ramp woven into it, a sloped zigzag that blurred
the separateness of each incline. Ironically, I was al-
ready aware of stairs like this in Barcelona, Berlin
and Buenos Aires, but did not realize there was a
set I passed on my daily commute. Directly in front
of me was something I regarded as exotic; some-
thing that I believed would require a trip around
the world to see, when, in reality, I only needed to
stop and look.
Every day, the brain, which is the real mechanism
of vision, tackles the daunting task of distilling
what is important in the world around us, a task for
which it is particularly well designed. It culls what
it deems distracting or unimportant, so that it can
focus on the tasks ahead; the stoplight changing,
the right turn in 1,000 feet, the truck in your rear-
view mirror. To overcome this ever-efficient filter
requires pausing and making a deliberate choice of
observation. This choice can prove to be as valuable
and inspiring as meandering down the streets of
Kathmandu.
There is beauty all around us. Denver may not
be Vienna or Vail, but it can stir your soul, if you
pause and look. Beyond the obvious destinations,
Denver rewards those who stop and take it in. With
tree-lined boulevards, old houses, new houses, the
rake of sunlight across City Park, the spectacular
backdrop of the Rockies – Denver delivers on beau-
ty and, particularly, in unexpected places.
Though wandering the streets of our modern city,
taking in the sights and sounds and mosaic of ev-
eryday life is rewarding and beautiful, people con-
tinue to travel for experiences beyond this place.
How could Denver fill in the gaps, satisfy the thirst
for worldly experiences and become a destination
apart from its promise of snowy slopes and sun-
shine? How can we learn to find the beauty in our
own pedestrian streets instead of someone else's?
We have a tendency, perhaps some sort of innate
predilection, for touching and being touched by
old places and materials. We like the look and feel
of aged brick and stone. We enjoy, and perhaps ro-
manticize, the shaping, shine and irregularity of old
wood. The same for cities and streets: People love
the patina of Paris’s zinc rooftops and Tuscany’s
narrow hill town streets built for a world before
cars. The lure of the old is present even if it is ex-
perienced only through photographs and postcards.
Though many enjoy the quaint farmhouse, with
mossy trestle fences, rusting old plows and trees big
enough for a rope swing, it is important to remem-
ber that the tree with the swing began as a sapling,
the zinc was once shiny, and the wood, bricks, and
stones were new.
Andre LH
Baros, AIA
Architect,
Shears
Adkins
Rockmore
In the Details
Stairs: Stop and look.