Waterfront Square is Back On

With David Grasso assuming control of Waterfront Square, it looks like the long idle project is back on track. Although the remaining towers will not likely meet up to the original, somewhat grand proposal.

That isn't necessarily a bad thing. Grasso has accurately pointed out that Waterfront Square appeals to empty nesters and urban newbies who like suburban amenities and gated communities but hold a curiosity for city living. Waterfront Square succeeds at this.

But to most urbanites, Waterfront Square is a fortressed, suburban complex that just happens to be really tall. The architecture also leaves very little to critique, and in any art, the worst statement one can make is one that isn't interesting enough to look bad.

It's not bad. It's not good. It's boring.

It's also massive in terms of city living. Communal complexes look out of place in urban settings, especially one so close to Center City and adjacent to a very eclectic neighborhood.

Developers love to toss around the term "master plan," and Waterfront Square is as close as we've come to a privately funded "master plan" that would leave such an impact on the city.

The problem with these master plans in an inner city is they lack any integration with their settings. Waterfront Square is impressive, but it not only disengages its inhabitants from the city by refusing to interact with it, it scars the skyline the way the Renaissance Center scars Detroit's.

Under new management Waterfront Square has an opportunity to fix this. Instead of forging ahead with stunted incarnations of its two originally proposed towers, Grasso could use his capital to integrate the remaining property with Columbus Boulevard.

Throw out the blueprints.

Align scaled townhouses with the existing grid, including space for shopping, dining, and entertainment. Consolidate the remaining towers into one impressive high rise that defies the existing mediocre design. This won't only attract the eye, but the juxtaposition of design will make the current towers look less alien to the city scape.

In all likelihood Grasso will continue with the plan as designed, and decapitate the remaining towers. That's okay. It's what the current residents bought and it's a fine project. But with SugarHouse suburbanizing the northern end of Columbus Boulevard, Grasso is in the position to responsibly bring its residents to its sidewalks, not only making his project more pleasing to the eye and more successful, but encouraging new develop along the corridor thus making his property even more valuable.

The New Delaware Avenue

Had it been built, today's economy would have probably left it a ghost town, but what a beautiful ghost town it would have been. It's a shame that of all the grand proposals for Northern Liberties' waterfront area, neighbors managed to NIMBY away all but the most poorly designed of the various proposals. And even in the case of these two, opposition fought so hard against an inevitable casino that they wound up with a suburban warehouse instead of a well designed tower with a landscaped marina.

In a time of optimistic real estate gambling, the post industrial wasteland that is Delaware Avenue was to be the site of a new, and concentrated business, residential, and entertainment district. With skyscrapers rivaling Center City's, the redevelopment of this concrete jungle of vacant lots, rotting warehouses, and abandoned cars promised that Northern Liberties could be more than a hipster's wet dream of ironic blight.

Bridgeman's View

A World Trade Center would redefine this corridor as an international business hub, while sleek, sky scraping condos would tag Northern Liberties as an elite address for Philadelphia's nouveau riche. Hotels and casinos would attract young and old, and Delaware Avenue would become our region's premier address for glitz, glamor, and excess.

Oh, how times change. While just a few years ago, one could envision such a scenario being today's reality, sadly, Delaware Avenue remains a blighted artery, and home to the homeless.

Sugarhouse Casino

Waterfront Square, a poorly designed condominium complex that suburbanizes Delaware Avenue as a gated community that disobeys the grid, is two towers short of its original plan. Developers are struggling to unload the remaining units in the recently completed, and stunted, tower.

Sugarhouse Casino draws a crowd but pays no respect to its surroundings. Like a pig in a prom dress, a large warehouse has been dressed up with a plastic facade. With development tied up in town meetings and neighborhood opposition for over a year, dwindling resources and a sagging economy eliminated a hotel component that redefined the area's skyline and balanced Waterfront Square's jarring presence.

Trump Tower

While many in the neighborhood continue to demonize the projects, the surrounding area and waterfront remain neglected and unused by those who fought so fiercely to preserve them. Certainly the addition of Trump Tower and Bridgeman's View, as well as others, would have led to a much worse real estate situation, one Philadelphia has weathered quite well compared to cities like Miami or Atlanta. But no NIMBY can claim their protest was due to some divine foresight.

While it may have turned into a ghost town, it would have created a badly needed, urban infrastructure in a suffering part of town, one that could save this area from the same mistakes made in South Philadelphia in which a similar landscape was redeveloped into an asphalt oasis of suburban shopping.

Given the current economy and the present state of the neighborhood, it's unlikely this stretch of Delaware Avenue will be thrown any developmental optimism again. If this NIMBY has the foresight it likes to claim, right now they are seeing strip malls and fast food drive-ins.