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Graduate Thesis Project

Mourning Small Spaces

urban interaction design | design
research | experience design

Digital Placemaking in
the Urban Environment:
Creating a Mourning
Process for Lost Spaces

Urban areas have been experiencing rapid change and growth for many years now and the city of Seattle is no exemption to this trend. While there are many good things that come with creating dense urban neighborhoods, rapid growth can cause disruptions to local businesses and re-shape public spaces. This project examines the rapid development in two neighborhoods of Seattle— southwest Capitol Hill and north Beacon Hill—and provides a platform for resident observation about the way neighborhoods’ small spaces are changing. This temporary platform asks residents to engage with the loss of small spaces by mourning them—or asking them to contemplate the changes through a situational futuristic experience and documenting the qualities of these spaces they will miss.

Overview

Design Question: How might I create a space for residents to mourn or remember a changing space in their neighborhood?
Length: 10 months
Scope: Mourning Small Spaces is my University of Washington graduate thesis project. This page is an overview of my research and design process, culminating in the creation of a website that allows residents to contemplate their changing spaces while situated near the space.

You can read a more in-depth article about my fall quarter here and the winter quarter here.

Problem Space

Large, well-known spaces are sometimes mourned with gatherings. One example of this is the Viaduct that cut through downtown Seattle—this strip of elevated roadway received a Viaduct Arts Festival before its demolition. These types of events are more rare for smaller, private spaces. This project defines “small” in terms of scale and considers how rapid growth might double or triple the occupancy, increase the space taken up on the lot, decrease the private space proximity to the sidewalk, or increase the height compared to other buildings around it. This rapid shift in scale can completely change what a neighborhood looks or feels like as more of these small spaces experience this change. 

As demand for housing grows, communities recognize that some of these space changes are necessary. I argue that it is still important to mourn and reflect on the qualities neighborhoods lose and gain with these changes. With this project, I sought to create a platform for residents to reflect on these changing spaces as well as the qualities their neighborhoods would be losing or gaining with the recent construction.
Above: The Viaduct Arts Festival gave Seattleites
the opportunity to say goodbye.  
Credit: Seattle Public Works

Above: Compare the Viaduct Arts Festival to the discussion on a @VanishingSeattle post. Mouse over and scroll to see the comments.
Credit: @VanishingSeattle
Below: The pace and scale of a rapidly changing block in Beacon Hill. The orange structures are recently built within one year or have plans to be built.

Research

My process included months of secondary research and research through design. With the latter, I observed spaces and interviewed people in my neighborhood and created a series of probes that were left in public spaces.

Neighborhood Observations

Observing spaces in my neighborhood came in the form of sketching. These were initially in public spaces like small pocket parks or street corners. I sketched the people interacting, the systems of a city the space contained (bus wires, mailboxes, trash cans, etc.) These soon became sketches of buildings that were set to be torn down in my neighborhood. The sketches became a way to memorialize them for myself.

Thomas Street
Mini Park
This sketch was a practice in noticing some of the public connections and utilities of a city.
Feathered Friends Building
One of my first sketches was to document a building that would be demolished.
North Summit
Street Bars
In the beginning,
I focused on meeting spaces and hubs within residential areas.
Summit Slope Park
Sometimes my sketches were about observing the ways people moved through public space. This park provides a nice flow for people walking through.

Research Findings

My urban probes were the final research/prototyping I did before moving on to my design phase. There were three key design opportunities from all of my research:

Situated, online experiences were
convenient, familiar, and even fun.

Creating an online space for memories
of a place could become its own form
of gathering.

Mourning these spaces can be the cathartic experience that people need to accept the change in building and density.

The google survey gleaned more responses than the postcards. It was easier to leave out in the open (no constantly walking to check for responses) and allowed for more depth and breadth in answers. The tongue-in-cheek nature of the Time Travel probe allowed for a level of fun. When I showed this to my grad co-hort, they were intrigued by the “ghosts” of the past and future.
My early approach to this project centered around how online spaces can impact the way we feel about our physical spaces. One example of this that stood out to me was the instagram account @vanishingseattle. This account highlights homes and businesses that are vanishing (and sometimes points out what structures will replace them). It fosters online discussion about the spaces and followers share their memories and hopes for the future on each post.

After the neighborhood probes, I began to compare the changing of small spaces compared to large ones. Large, well-known spaces are sometimes mourned with gatherings. These types of events are more rare for smaller, private spaces. This project defines “small” in terms of scale and considers how rapid growth might double or triple the occupancy, increase the space taken up on the lot, decrease the private space proximity to the sidewalk, or increase the height compared to other buildings around it. This rapid shift in scale can completely change what a neighborhood looks or feels like as more of these small spaces experience this change. This has been the case in my neighborhood of Capitol Hill for several years now, but I was interested in what it might look like in other neighborhoods who are just starting to deal with this change. I added the neighborhood of Beacon Hill to my experience because the rate of change and density were changing more rapidly than that of Capitol Hill. I was curious what residents felt or wanted to share.


Quite a few of my neighbors expressed sadness in the buildings that were being demolished, but were hopeful about more affordable density so they could share their neighborhood with more people. During this project, the Viaduct Arts Festival took place to celebrate the end of Seattle’s viaduct—a strip of road that ran between the Puget Sound and downtown. Seattleites got to gather on the viaduct and celebrate the end of one of the best free views of the city and look forward to the park that will replace it. This festival reminded me that while change is inevitable, mourning the past can help people embrace that change. This was the point where I shifted from asking what people thought about a space to asking them to remember it.

Research Findings

I wanted to be physically there when we talked about things they observed in their environment. When I first brought this exercise up with future participants, they would immediately start talking about a park they enjoy. On further questioning, they would admit to visiting that park infrequently. This doesn’t make their enjoyment of that space invalid, but I wanted them to observe and point to things they notice in new light on more frequented routes or destinations. I also asked participants to draw a cognitive map at the end of each walk to help give me an idea of what they felt was most important on our walks versus just what they were observing in real time.

I tested the method on myself first. I took a twenty minute walk on a familiar route and took pictures of things I noticed or had always stood out to me. I had three participants (not including myself) in total and the walks ranged from fifteen to seventy minutes. They consisted of both wanderings and commutes—the commute routes were not necessarily chosen based on efficiency as there were multiple routes that the participants could have taken to their destinations and arrived at the same time.

One finding from this experiment was that participants paid attention to the ways that others were manipulating public space. This was in the form of decorating lamp posts, yarn bombing, or even stickering. The stickers were often in places that fliers were not seen and had messages that connected to bigger ideas or movements that could be found online—a prime example of public authoring. Later, I would recall seeing examples of public authoring on construction notices in front of buildings. One pointed to Vanishing Seattle, the instagram account mentioned earlier that posted spaces that were set to be closed or demolished.

Another finding was that the knowledge you bring to your neighborhood helps you recognize and appreciate the subtle or hidden things in the environment. Sharing this with others grows that appreciation and creates a richer experience of the neighborhood space. For instance, one participant has knowledge of many plant species and pointed out the California Buckeye plant out to me. He told me how native people would use the neurotoxic qualities of the Buckeye nut to stun fish. This is an important part of the way this participant chooses what route to take (he likes to walk by a street with an abundance of plants) but it is now part of the way I think of that particular street. This sharing of knowledge reminded me of the Capitol Hill Blog’s flickr account—people post photos of the things they notice or value in this neighborhood. This sharing builds up a collective knowledge of what the neighborhood looks and feels like.

Throughout this, I was still sketching for parts of my neighborhood when I noticed a construction sign had gone up on a early 1900’s Craftsman house close to my apartment. I started to draw it as a way to document it as I had done for the Feathered Friends building. At the time, this action was just part of the many sketches I had made of my neighborhood. While I had felt sad to know this incredible building would be gone, it made me feel better to capture this house as it was. This led to me going around the rest of my neighborhood and sketching other buildings that had construction notices in front of them. I began to feel this urgency in documenting these spaces that would soon be gone.

Both of these research methods—neighborhood sketching and Walk and Talks—helped me to narrow down my research area and affected the way this project was formed. Once I stopped sketching observationally and started to sketch in order to preserve or document, my motivations for this project became more clear.

Seeing what others noticed the most in their neighborhood helped give me an idea of how my design intervention might best grab attention when put into an urban environment.
Cognitive Sketches
Volunteers sketched their walk and talk journeys after to determine what sticks out to them.
Stickers and Yarn Bombing
Residents alter their urban environment with links to bigger ideas or movements.
Neighborhood Knowledge
Residents share their knowledge of the neighborhood shapes how other residents see the neighborhood.

Urban Probes

The research portion of this project took up almost two-thirds of my thesis time. Once I had decided on a problem space, I got to work by seeing what other residents thought of the changes in their neighborhood. These included a series of postcards and a webpage that lets users time travel on a construction site.

I've written a separate project page detailing my work on urban probes that you can read here.

Design Process

Designing the Documentation Experience

As demand for housing grows, communities recognize that some of these space changes are necessary. I argue that it is still important to mourn and reflect on the qualities neighborhoods lose and gain with these changes. With this project, I sought to create a platform for residents to reflect on these changing spaces as well as the qualities their neighborhoods would be losing or gaining with the recent construction.

I thought about all the ways you can document a space—you can talk about it, take pictures of it, sketch it, share memories of it, etc.—and what I thought would be an acceptable ask of people who came upon this experience in their neighborhood. I also wanted to promote contemplation of the change, so I decided to ask people to submit images (the amount was optional as were any extra comments they wanted to submit).

User Journey + Wireframe Experience Map

The experience asks that your attention move back and forth from the physical world and what is being presented online (and sometimes both at the same time). To show this, I created the persona of Val to map out how a resident might interact with the physical site and website.

Adding a Neighborhood

Before I started the final version of this platform for mourning, I looked at how other neighborhoods were dealing with rapid space turnover. After visiting a few sites in north Beacon Hill, I decided to add sites in this neighborhood to the final.

This addition changed how this final version looked because experiencing this neighborhood’s changes was very different than experiencing Capitol Hill’s. An important part of project was discovery and opportunity—I had planned to make the experience markers revolve around the construction notices, but Beacon Hill presented a challenge. The signs were in yards (versus on the sidewalks in Capitol Hill) and it felt more intrusive to put signage up in people’s yards without permission.

When I started to visit sites that I was considering to use in the project, I saw that it wasn’t just a few lots that were changing—whole blocks were going to look different in one to two years. There was a massive shift in scale that this neighborhood would be experiencing that was felt more acutely here than in Capitol Hill. I wanted to capture more than one site with an experience, so I decided to set the markers up across the street. This had the added bonus of solving the issues of intrusive markers.

Adding this neighborhood affected this project in a variety of ways. I saw how mourning a space was as important as ever—whole blocks were changing rapidly, and it was important to let people grieve and document what their neighborhood looked like in the present. One way to do this was to give them a glimpse of what a block might look like a year from now. This led to me sketching futuristic overlays and making them into filters (similar to the time traveling prototype). This was not something I had been planning to do with the documentation experience, but it soon became a component of every site’s experience. This took more work, but I saw it as an important introduction to situating and a shift in realizing that the way things look now is not what they will look like forever.
Neighborhood in Transition
These images show how this block is rapidly changing—the lighter orange on the left denotes recent construction and the bright orange highlights future construction.

Results

For the final iteration of this project, I created a documentation experience for four sites and used my time traveling prototype for a fifth site.
In Capitol Hill, I used sites that had been part of my postcard probe. The Beacon Hill locations were less familiar and it felt more uncomfortable to put up signage or markers in that neighborhood. I often felt exposed because of the lack of density there and from the close proximity that the houses had to the street.

Markers

An important part of this experience was the discovery of the markers that gave residents a site address to type in on their mobile devices. I wanted this sense of discovery to feel special, so I made plaque-like tiles with drawings of the houses that would be demolished on them to mark where you should begin the documentation experience. I experimented with various ways to stick this to the ground—in the end, I decided on putting a thick layer of hot glue on the backs of the tiles and re-heating it with a very large lighter when I got to the site’s sidewalk. I was worried about affixing something permanently to the sidewalk (and I wanted to collect them later). I left the area and started watching the analytics of the website show only hits from Ashburn, Virginia as visitors. A quick Google search told me that these were bots and that I was getting no human visitors. The next morning I went to the sites, saw the tiles had been taken, and put up signage in roughly the same area. It wasn’t ideal, but I was still hopeful that residents would use the experience.

I had been thinking of making some tiles for the Capitol Hill sites, but decided against it after the failed attempt in Beacon Hill. The Capitol Hill sites had signage that I was able to staple or attach to the construction signs. I have occasionally had to go by and re-staple things, but there hasn’t been any other issues.
Markers
Tiles were used initially to mark spots in Beacon Hill to mark where the mobile experience worked the best. These quickly gave way to paper signage.
In Situ Design
Left: When users come across the signage near the sites, they are pointed to a mobile website that asks them to choose which physical site they are at.
Bottom: The documentation experience runs through a variety of overlays with different asks.

Documentation Experience

When someone walking by uses their mobile device to go to the website, they land on the homepage with a pop-up that lets them find their location for their experience. Each location page starts with instructions on how to go through the documentation experience and starts with a futuristic sketch overlay of what that space will look like.

I had worried that if I instructed people to only take pictures of the things they will miss most about the spaces, they would only take one that featured the front of the building and move on. After they see the sketch of the future, they are asked to document what their favorite part of this space is, the details they will miss the most, and to take a photo that represents the way that the loss of this space might change their routine. When they press the “Document!” button, a small frame appears at the top right corner above the filter and is filled with the most recent snapshot. They can download the snapshot and save it to upload to the Google survey later. For each ask (favorite part, details, routine) there is an instructional slide followed by a slide with a playful frame that lets the camera stream be seen more clearly

Final Website Design

Throughout the experience, there are options to go to the homepage where there is an overview of the project as well as the neighborhood pages. Each neighborhood page has tabs that displays the map where the sites are (each site marker linked to that site’s experience) and another tab that displays the submissions for each site.

Click through the interactive prototype
to see the experience.

Submissions

An important aspect of this project was the shared knowledge that residents could view. As more and more people submitted what they would miss and the qualities they were sad to see go, I had hoped to see a trend that could point out what these communities wanted to see in their neighborhoods.

Sadly, that did not happen. The Submissions tab under each neighborhood’s page was created to display this information from the Google survey (there are instructions on where to find this in the documentation experience). However, the reactions to the time travel prototype were incorporated into the Submission tab for the Capitol Hill page.

Technical Issues

A lot of time was spent trying to create a Snap Chat-like filter that would be captured on top of the picture when it was taken (the final one is only an overlay on the screen—it doesn’t get captured when you press the “Document!” button). The snap feature would have made it more playful and possibly attractive to use, but I realized the design didn’t have to have this—not having it might create for a better submission. Because I could not figure out how to do this anyway (after months of trying), I decided to focus on the experience of documenting and not what was being produced when you document. There could be an argument for either approach and this might be something I explore in the future.

Reflection

My goal for this thesis was to provide a platform for expression about the way a neighborhood’s small spaces are changing. I specifically made it about mourning, but with the idea that mourning something takes many forms. I was successful in creating a platform, but unsuccessful in having people using it. A lot of work went into this, but there were a lot of rushed decisions (some detailed above) that I had to make at the end because I was short on time. Those decisions might have cost me the opportunity to receive more feedback from the public. In this section I will discuss some ideas I have on where I went wrong and where some of the value still lies in this project.

One issue I discovered was that relying on the virtual experience to explain everything might not be as effective as allowing physical signifiers to do more heavy lifting. It might even have the added bonus of creating more intrigue for those who come upon it. For my time travel prototype, I had a bright poster that I thought looked terrible but did its job. It had more instructions on it and was a bit more playful even if it wasn’t well-designed. Maybe something less polished intrigued people more? Maybe something about this unrefined poster was less threatening? It’s also worth noting that I’ve had more instances where people have tried to take down the newer posters, but this could also be a factor of the weather and more people being outside at night.

The documentation experience could have done with more refinement but also lacked the playfulness that the gifs of the time travel prototype had. I mentioned this before in the Process section, but I regret that this was not one of the qualities that was used from this prototype (mostly due to time restraints). Because I was happy with the time travel prototype, I used a lot of design decisions from it to make my final documentation experience. I thought that the instructions on the pop-up when you first open the site webpage were enough, but maybe more instructions on the signage would have been more clear. I assumed that because users were willing to click once to see another gif meant that they would swipe through eight times, take pictures, then click to save those pictures. A last minute discovery that I couldn’t embed Google surveys that asked for file uploads into a webpage meant that the user now had to click out of the experience (whereas they just scrolled down to see it in the time travel prototype). The experience had become more complicated and further away from the spirit of the original prototype.

Creating a platform that asks people to mourn doesn’t mean anyone will take you up on it. It’s possible that I should have only revealed that this was a mourning platform to those I was presenting my thesis to—maybe asking someone walking along the street to mourn rather than to just document or remember was not as effective.

Despite all this, there are things about this project that I think still have value. The first is that I still think there is a need for residents to share their thoughts about the demolition of small spaces. This first point allows residents to question what they want progress in their neighborhoods too look and feel like. It is also important for everyone to see each other’s thoughts, memories, documentation, and viewpoints. Much like a comment section on the internet, seeing and participating in this shared knowledge is essential to getting more people involved to share their own knowledge of these spaces. It was important for me to include a place where everyone could see this documentation in my project.

I also think there is value creating situated experiences that allow people to contemplate the future of a space. Even though my sketch overlays are simple, they give residents an idea of how the scale, amount of greenspace, and the ways the sidewalk experience of that space will change. Glancing at the rendering on a construction sign doesn’t exhibit the same magnitude of the change that will occur.

Taking the time to stop and think about how these changing environments affects us and our day-to-day routines is also important. This gets at the goal I originally had for this project: to make things visible. These small spaces add up to very large chunks of neighborhoods and it is important to make these small changes visible now. My hope is that this project might help others to create platforms or probes in the urban environment that help make issues facing neighborhood and urban growth more visible.
720 Harvard Ave E
Above: My documentation of this space through sketching.
Left: Demolition day at the site.

Digital Placemaking in
the Urban Environment:
Creating a Mourning
Process for Lost Spaces

Urban areas have been experiencing rapid change and growth for many years now and the city of Seattle is no exemption to this trend. While there are many good things that come with creating dense urban neighborhoods, rapid growth can cause disruptions to local businesses and re-shape public spaces. This project examines the rapid development in two neighborhoods of Seattle— southwest Capitol Hill and north Beacon Hill—and provides a platform for resident observation about the way neighborhoods’ small spaces are changing. This temporary platform asks residents to engage with the loss of small spaces by mourning them—or asking them to contemplate the changes through a situational futuristic experience and documenting the qualities of these spaces they will miss.

Overview

Design Question: How might I create a space for residents to mourn or remember a changing space in their neighborhood?
Length: 10 months
Scope: Mourning Small Spaces is my University of Washington graduate thesis project. This page is an overview of my research and design process, culminating in the creation of a website that allows residents to contemplate their changing spaces while situated near the space.

You can read a more in-depth article about my fall quarter here and the winter quarter here.

Problem Space

Large, well-known spaces are sometimes mourned with gatherings. One example of this is the Viaduct that cut through downtown Seattle—this strip of elevated roadway received a Viaduct Arts Festival before its demolition. These types of events are more rare for smaller, private spaces. This project defines “small” in terms of scale and considers how rapid growth might double or triple the occupancy, increase the space taken up on the lot, decrease the private space proximity to the sidewalk, or increase the height compared to other buildings around it. This rapid shift in scale can completely change what a neighborhood looks or feels like as more of these small spaces experience this change. 

As demand for housing grows, communities recognize that some of these space changes are necessary. I argue that it is still important to mourn and reflect on the qualities neighborhoods lose and gain with these changes. With this project, I sought to create a platform for residents to reflect on these changing spaces as well as the qualities their neighborhoods would be losing or gaining with the recent construction.

Research

My process included months of secondary research and research through design. With the latter, I observed spaces and interviewed people in my neighborhood and created a series of probes I left in public spaces.

Neighborhood Observations

Observing spaces in my neighborhood came in the form of sketching. These were initially in public spaces like small pocket parks or street corners. I sketched the people interacting, the systems of a city the space contained (bus wires, mailboxes, trash cans, etc.)

Sketches as Documentation

Soon after, I noticed a construction sign had gone up on an early 1900’s Craftsman house close to my apartment. I started to draw it as a way to document it as I had done for the previous building. At the time, this action was just part of the many sketches I had made of my neighborhood. While I had felt sad to know this incredible building would be gone, it made me feel better to capture this house as it was. This led to me going around the rest of my neighborhood and sketching other buildings that had construction notices in front of them. I began to feel this urgency in documenting these spaces that would soon be gone.

Research Findings

My urban probes were the final research/prototyping I did before moving on to my design phase. Again, you can take a look at more of this work here and here. There were three key design opportunities from all of my research:


Situated, online experiences were convenient, familiar, and even fun.

The google survey gleaned more responses than the postcards. It was easier to leave out in the open (no constantly walking to check for responses) and allowed for more depth and breadth in answers. The tongue-in-cheek nature of the Time Travel probe allowed for a level of fun. When I showed this to my grad co-hort, they were intrigued by the “ghosts” of the past and future.

Mourning these spaces can be the cathartic experience that people need to accept the change in building and density.

Quite a few of my neighbors expressed sadness in the buildings that were being demolished, but were hopeful about more affordable density so they could share their neighborhood with more people. During this project, the Viaduct Arts Festival took place to celebrate the end of Seattle’s viaduct—a strip of road that ran between the Puget Sound and downtown. Seattleites got to gather on the viaduct and celebrate the end of one of the best free views of the city and look forward to the park that will replace it. This festival reminded me that while change is inevitable, mourning the past can help people embrace that change. This was the point where I shifted from asking what people thought about a space to asking them to remember it.

Creating an online space for memories of a place could become its own form
of gathering.

My early approach to this project centered around how online spaces can impact the way we feel about our physical spaces. One example of this that stood out to me was the instagram account @vanishingseattle. This account highlights homes and businesses that are vanishing (and sometimes the structures that will replace them). It fosters online discussion about the spaces and followers share their memories and hopes for the future on each post.

After the neighborhood probes, I began to compare the changing of small spaces compared to large ones. Large, well-known spaces are sometimes mourned with gatherings. These types of events are more rare for smaller, private spaces. This project defines “small” in terms of scale and considers how rapid growth might double or triple the occupancy, increase the space taken up on the lot, decrease the private space proximity to the sidewalk, or increase the height compared to other buildings around it. This rapid shift in scale can completely change what a neighborhood looks or feels like as more of these small spaces experience this change. This has been the case in my neighborhood of Capitol Hill for several years now, but I was interested in what it might look like in other neighborhoods who are just starting to deal with this change. I added the neighborhood of Beacon Hill to my experience because the rate of change and density were changing more rapidly than that of Capitol Hill. I was curious what residents felt or wanted to share.



Above: The Viaduct Arts Festival gave Seattleites the opportunity to say goodbye.  
Credit: Seattle Public Works

Research Findings

I wanted to be physically there when we talked about things they observed in their environment. When I first brought this exercise up with future participants, they would immediately start talking about a park they enjoy. On further questioning, they would admit to visiting that park infrequently. This doesn’t make their enjoyment of that space invalid, but I wanted them to observe and point to things they notice in new light on more frequented routes or destinations. I also asked participants to draw a cognitive map at the end of each walk to help give me an idea of what they felt was most important on our walks versus just what they were observing in real time.

I tested the method on myself first. I took a twenty minute walk on a familiar route and took pictures of things I noticed or had always stood out to me. I had three participants (not including myself) in total and the walks ranged from fifteen to seventy minutes. They consisted of both wanderings and commutes—the commute routes were not necessarily chosen based on efficiency as there were multiple routes that the participants could have taken to their destinations and arrived at the same time.

One finding from this experiment was that participants paid attention to the ways that others were manipulating public space. This was in the form of decorating lamp posts, yarn bombing, or even stickering. The stickers were often in places that fliers were not seen and had messages that connected to bigger ideas or movements that could be found online—a prime example of public authoring. Later, I would recall seeing examples of public authoring on construction notices in front of buildings. One pointed to Vanishing Seattle, the instagram account mentioned earlier that posted spaces that were set to be closed or demolished.

Another finding was that the knowledge you bring to your neighborhood helps you recognize and appreciate the subtle or hidden things in the environment. Sharing this with others grows that appreciation and creates a richer experience of the neighborhood space. For instance, one participant has knowledge of many plant species and pointed out the California Buckeye plant out to me. He told me how native people would use the neurotoxic qualities of the Buckeye nut to stun fish. This is an important part of the way this participant chooses what route to take (he likes to walk by a street with an abundance of plants) but it is now part of the way I think of that particular street. This sharing of knowledge reminded me of the Capitol Hill Blog’s flickr account—people post photos of the things they notice or value in this neighborhood. This sharing builds up a collective knowledge of what the neighborhood looks and feels like.

Throughout this, I was still sketching for parts of my neighborhood when I noticed a construction sign had gone up on a early 1900’s Craftsman house close to my apartment. I started to draw it as a way to document it as I had done for the Feathered Friends building. At the time, this action was just part of the many sketches I had made of my neighborhood. While I had felt sad to know this incredible building would be gone, it made me feel better to capture this house as it was. This led to me going around the rest of my neighborhood and sketching other buildings that had construction notices in front of them. I began to feel this urgency in documenting these spaces that would soon be gone.

Both of these research methods—neighborhood sketching and Walk and Talks—helped me to narrow down my research area and affected the way this project was formed. Once I stopped sketching observationally and started to sketch in order to preserve or document, my motivations for this project became more clear.

Seeing what others noticed the most in their neighborhood helped give me an idea of how my design intervention might best grab attention when put into an urban environment.
Above: Compare the Viaduct Arts Festival to the discussion on a @VanishingSeattle post. Mouse over and scroll to see the comments.
Credit: @VanishingSeattle

Above: The pace and scale of a rapidly changing block in Beacon Hill. The orange structures are recently built within one year or have plans to be built.

Cognitive Sketches
Volunteers sketched their walk and talk journeys after to determine what sticks out to them.
Stickers and Yarn Bombing
Residents alter their urban environment with links to bigger ideas or movements.
Neighborhood Knowledge
Residents share their knowledge of the neighborhood shapes how other residents see the neighborhood.

Urban Probes

My desire to create urban probes for research stemmed from work by Eric Paulos and Tom Jenkins who used postcards to measure attention in public space. I wanted to see if people pay attention to construction signs that announced demolition, so I made a neon sign that featured two plastic bags—one that had blank postcards with pencils in them and another where they could leave their filled out postcards for me to pick up. I chose two sites that were historical, multi-family homes set to be demolished soon. I only received a few postcards back (although many were taken). I might have inadvertently created a souvenir that proved to be too tempting to give back, so I decided to produce a digital probe.





I called my next probe “Time Travel.” I have always looked back at old Google Streetviews to see how different neighborhoods looked several years ago and was intrigued by a site that was in the middle of construction. I couldn’t remember what had been there before, so I decided to draw the past house and the future apartment building that was proposed. I created an online portal that allowed people to time travel to view the past, present, and future of this site and share their thoughts on these changes. 

To do that, I made a poster with instructions to go to a web address and asked users to point their mobile device at the construction site. The webpage uses a mobile device’s camera stream to situate you near the site. If you stand at a certain spot, a filter of a playful gif on top of the camera stream lines up with the construction site. Pressing the “time travel” button shows the rise of a zombie-like apartment building that eats unsuspecting people passing by. Scrolling down the page takes users to an embedded Google survey that asks questions about change of space.

I ended up incorporating this prototype into my final design because I felt it was important to showcase the memorial side of mourning. The method of situated camera streaming and using an overlay to show a sketch of the future became the basis for my final documentation portal.

Design Process

Designing the Documentation Experience

As demand for housing grows, communities recognize that some of these space changes are necessary. I argue that it is still important to mourn and reflect on the qualities neighborhoods lose and gain with these changes. With this project, I sought to create a platform for residents to reflect on these changing spaces as well as the qualities their neighborhoods would be losing or gaining with the recent construction.

I thought about all the ways you can document a space—you can talk about it, take pictures of it, sketch it, share memories of it, etc.—and what I thought would be an acceptable ask of people who came upon this experience in their neighborhood. I also wanted to promote contemplation of the change, so I decided to ask people to submit images (the amount was optional as were any extra comments they wanted to submit).

User Journey + Wireframe Experience Map

The experience asks that your attention move back and forth from the physical world and what is being presented online (and sometimes both at the same time). To show this, I created the persona of Val to map out how a resident might interact with the physical site and website.

Adding a Neighborhood

Before I started the final version of this platform for mourning, I looked at how other neighborhoods were dealing with rapid space turnover. After visiting a few sites in north Beacon Hill, I decided to add sites in this neighborhood to the final.

This addition changed how this final version looked because experiencing this neighborhood’s changes was very different than experiencing Capitol Hill’s. An important part of project was discovery and opportunity—I had planned to make the experience markers revolve around the construction notices, but Beacon Hill presented a challenge. The signs were in yards (versus on the sidewalks in Capitol Hill) and it felt more intrusive to put signage up in people’s yards without permission.

When I started to visit sites that I was considering to use in the project, I saw that it wasn’t just a few lots that were changing—whole blocks were going to look different in one to two years. There was a massive shift in scale that this neighborhood would be experiencing that was felt more acutely here than in Capitol Hill. I wanted to capture more than one site with an experience, so I decided to set the markers up across the street. This had the added bonus of solving the issues of intrusive markers.

Adding this neighborhood affected this project in a variety of ways. I saw how mourning a space was as important as ever—whole blocks were changing rapidly, and it was important to let people grieve and document what their neighborhood looked like in the present. One way to do this was to give them a glimpse of what a block might look like a year from now. This led to me sketching futuristic overlays and making them into filters (similar to the time traveling prototype). This was not something I had been planning to do with the documentation experience, but it soon became a component of every site’s experience. This took more work, but I saw it as an important introduction to situating and a shift in realizing that the way things look now is not what they will look like forever.
Neighborhood in Transition
These images show how this block is rapidly changing—the lighter orange on the left denotes recent construction and the bright orange highlights future construction.

Results

For the final iteration of this project, I created a documentation experience for four sites and used my time traveling prototype for a fifth site.

In Capitol Hill, I used sites that had been part of my postcard probe. The Beacon Hill locations were less familiar and it felt more uncomfortable to put up signage or markers in that neighborhood. I often felt exposed because of the lack of density there and from the close proximity that the houses had to the street.

Markers

An important part of this experience was the discovery of the markers that gave residents a site address to type in on their mobile devices. I wanted this sense of discovery to feel special, so I made plaque-like tiles with drawings of the houses that would be demolished on them to mark where you should begin the documentation experience. I experimented with various ways to stick this to the ground—in the end, I decided on putting a thick layer of hot glue on the backs of the tiles and re-heating it with a very large lighter when I got to the site’s sidewalk. I was worried about affixing something permanently to the sidewalk (and I wanted to collect them later). After I left the area, I checked Google analytics and realizedI was getting no human visitors to the site. The next morning I went to the sites, saw the tiles had been taken, and put up signage in roughly the same area. It wasn’t ideal, but I was still hopeful that residents would use the experience.

I had been thinking of making some tiles for the Capitol Hill sites, but decided against it after the failed attempt in Beacon Hill. The Capitol Hill sites had signage that I was able to staple or attach to the construction signs. I have occasionally had to go by and re-staple things, but there hasn’t been any other issues.
Markers
Tiles were used initially to mark spots in Beacon Hill to mark where the mobile experience worked the best. These quickly gave way to paper signage.
In Situ Design
Top:
When users come across the signage near the sites, they are pointed to a mobile website that asks them to choose which physical site they are at.
Bottom: The documentation experience runs through a variety of overlays with different asks.

Documentation Experience

When someone walking by uses their mobile device to go to the website, they land on the homepage with a pop-up that lets them find their location for their experience. Each location page starts with instructions on how to go through the documentation experience and starts with a futuristic sketch overlay of what that space will look like.

I had worried that if I instructed people to only take pictures of the things they will miss most about the spaces, they would only take one that featured the front of the building and move on. After they see the sketch of the future, they are asked to document what their favorite part of this space is, the details they will miss the most, and to take a photo that represents the way that the loss of this space might change their routine. When they press the “Document!” button, a small frame appears at the top right corner above the filter and is filled with the most recent snapshot. They can download the snapshot and save it to upload to the Google survey later. For each ask (favorite part, details, routine) there is an instructional slide followed by a slide with a playful frame that lets the camera stream be seen more clearly.

Final Website Design

Throughout the experience, there are options to go to the homepage where there is an overview of the project as well as the neighborhood pages. Each neighborhood page has tabs that displays the map where the sites are (each site marker linked to that site’s experience) and another tab that displays the submissions for each site.

Click through the interactive prototype
to see the experience.

Submissions

An important aspect of this project was the shared knowledge that residents could view. As more and more people submitted what they would miss and the qualities they were sad to see go, I had hoped to see a trend that could point out what these communities wanted to see in their neighborhoods.

Sadly, that did not happen. The Submissions tab under each neighborhood’s page was created to display this information from the Google survey (there are instructions on where to find this in the documentation experience). However, the reactions to the time travel prototype were incorporated into the Submission tab for the Capitol Hill page.

Technical Issues

A lot of time was spent trying to create a Snap Chat-like filter that would be captured on top of the picture when it was taken (the final one is only an overlay on the screen—it doesn’t get captured when you press the “Document!” button). The snap feature would have made it more playful and possibly attractive to use, but I realized the design didn’t have to have this—not having it might create for a better submission. Because I could not figure out how to do this anyway (after months of trying), I decided to focus on the experience of documenting and not what was being produced when you document. There could be an argument for either approach and this might be something I explore in the future.

Reflection

My goal for this thesis was to provide a platform for expression about the way a neighborhood’s small spaces are changing. I specifically made it about mourning, but with the idea that mourning something takes many forms. I was successful in creating a platform, but unsuccessful in having people using it. A lot of work went into this, but there were a lot of rushed decisions (some detailed above) that I had to make at the end because I was short on time. Those decisions might have cost me the opportunity to receive more feedback from the public. In this section I will discuss some ideas I have on where I went wrong and where some of the value still lies in this project.

One issue I discovered was that relying on the virtual experience to explain everything might not be as effective as allowing physical signifiers to do more heavy lifting. It might even have the added bonus of creating more intrigue for those who come upon it. For my time travel prototype, I had a bright poster that I thought looked terrible but did its job. It had more instructions on it and was a bit more playful even if it wasn’t well-designed. Maybe something less polished intrigued people more? Maybe something about this unrefined poster was less threatening? It’s also worth noting that I’ve had more instances where people have tried to take down the newer posters, but this could also be a factor of the weather and more people being outside at night.

The documentation experience could have done with more refinement but also lacked the playfulness that the gifs of the time travel prototype had. I mentioned this before in the Process section, but I regret that this was not one of the qualities that was used from this prototype (mostly due to time restraints). Because I was happy with the time travel prototype, I used a lot of design decisions from it to make my final documentation experience. I thought that the instructions on the pop-up when you first open the site webpage were enough, but maybe more instructions on the signage would have been more clear. I assumed that because users were willing to click once to see another gif meant that they would swipe through eight times, take pictures, then click to save those pictures. A last minute discovery that I couldn’t embed Google surveys that asked for file uploads into a webpage meant that the user now had to click out of the experience (whereas they just scrolled down to see it in the time travel prototype). The experience had become more complicated and further away from the spirit of the original prototype.
Creating a platform that asks people to mourn doesn’t mean anyone will take you up on it. It’s possible that I should have only revealed that this was a mourning platform to those I was presenting my thesis to—maybe asking someone walking along the street to mourn rather than to just document or remember was not as effective.

Despite all this, there are things about this project that I think still have value. The first is that I still think there is a need for residents to share their thoughts about the demolition of small spaces. This first point allows residents to question what they want progress in their neighborhoods too look and feel like. It is also important for everyone to see each other’s thoughts, memories, documentation, and viewpoints. Much like a comment section on the internet, seeing and participating in this shared knowledge is essential to getting more people involved to share their own knowledge of these spaces. It was important for me to include a place where everyone could see this documentation in my project.

I also think there is value creating situated experiences that allow people to contemplate the future of a space. Even though my sketch overlays are simple, they give residents an idea of how the scale, amount of greenspace, and the ways the sidewalk experience of that space will change. Glancing at the rendering on a construction sign doesn’t exhibit the same magnitude of the change that will occur.

Taking the time to stop and think about how these changing environments affects us and our day-to-day routines is also important. This gets at the goal I originally had for this project: to make things visible. These small spaces add up to very large chunks of neighborhoods and it is important to make these small changes visible now. My hope is that this project might help others to create platforms or probes in the urban environment that help make issues facing neighborhood and urban growth more visible.