People are the lifeblood of any city, and they define the urban environment that we covet. Our cities have always been alive and dynamic. How do we keep them that way? One answer: ground-floor activation. When the right spatial considerations are met, cities stay dynamic and, in turn, help us all thrive. The design tactics we use at the ground level are second nature—energized, active frontages; mixed-use developments that open onto streets or plazas; punctuated by pedestrian-friendly design with clear signage and plenty of greenery.
Sometimes we lose sight of why these things matter, though. That’s why we need to remind our clients, city officials, stakeholders, our community groups, and ourselves why they’re important. Here are three reasons that ground-floor activation is not just a best practice but also a design ethic that we all must uphold.
1. Visual complexity of space creates interest, and interest creates sustained engagement. Jan Gehl, Hon. FAIA and author of Life Between Buildings, talks about successful urban scenes as stage plays; we, the actors—knowingly or not—enliven such plays and give them shape. The work of creating visual complexity called the mise-en-scène (literally the act of setting the stage) for the performance between passersby and the object of their interest. The mise-en-scène is the space “in between”—the width of a sidewalk, its proximity to landscape, our engagement with a retail storefront, the appeal of ground-floor lobbies. Of course, cars and parking are woven into the mix of any place, too.
The more complexity, the better when creating a dynamic space. The scale and placement of retail/food and beverage/entertainment/ground-floor lobbies all need to be carefully choreographed for users to feel that elusive sense of discovery. Achieving this quality requires thoughtful retail/mixed-use planning in collaboration with leasing to provide the right size spaces for the right tenants. Layered into the public sphere is this visual complexity as a design ethic gives the largest number of people the greatest chance of selecting, for themselves, what appeals to them.
2. Blurring the lines is one way to keep your mise-en-scène alive with energy. Doing so means focusing on that in-between space as a way of giving people choices on a journey of discovery. Retail storefronts need to blur the lease line, for instance, by carefully curating sandwich boards, featuring plant arrangements, or even setting out a dog water bowl—all ways that soften the so-called lease line to encourage a pedestrian’s pause. After all, it’s their consideration you’re really courting here—and providing a welcoming storefront is an art form because you’re “painting” a picture of this place.
The reason to call this a design ethic is simple: blurring the lines gives everyone a chance to feel included, because hard lines exclude. Our cities, towns, and exurbs are going through a transformation now. In the last two decades we’ve doubled-down on mixed-use developments. People like density in theory, but they like privacy, too. They like residential environments but don’t want to be too far from commercial conveniences. They spend most of their day indoors, but they still like to take a stroll to see and touch something green. In offering flexibility by blurring the lines, we can stimulate economic vitality and a sense of joy.
3. Placemaking is a word that gets used a lot, and for good reason. We all want someplace to be. Any effort to create conditions where people can be alone or together, browse or buy, connect with something that appeals to them or disconnect entirely—that’s fundamental. Activating the ground floor is more than an economic stake in the ground—it’s permission for us all to be together in the public and semi-public spheres.
The quality of our public spaces—not to mention the amenities they provide—is key to successfully cultivating the communities that mean so much to us. This is placemaking. It’s human-scaled space. It’s activities that engage—like dozens gathered for a busker’s performance or a sole person seated on a shaded bench in a park. Even if the purpose of a place is singular—to eat, say—the way that place is created must allow for lots of interpretation.
Nothing encourages social interactions like visible seating at restaurants, for instance, in configurations of two, or three, or even a dozen people. These arrangements can be indoors, visible through glass, or, even better, through operable sliding windows that allow a more direct visual and audible connection. We are also seeing much more creativity in outdoor dining, with restaurant seating taking over parking spaces along street fronts. This choice creates a more activated edge that naturally attracts people. People attract more people, and these spaces allow communities to form. Ground-level activation promotes a healthy urban environment and is a viable business strategy that fits the definition of good design—to create something functional and inspiring, while serving a social purpose, too.
