Red Hook is a constant source of fascination for NYC designers. Decrepit industrial sites full of exciting potential for reuse; the remoteness from the rest of the city, a quaint and sleepy harbor town beyond the fortress of the BQE; sunsets over the shipping cranes of Elizabeth NJ, like sleepy brontosauruses at the water’s edge. And the history of Red Hook, populated by Brando-styled longshoremen, the bygone time when coffee was still “coffey”.
Let’s be honest with ourselves for a moment: Red Hook might be a bit like Brigadoon, but it’s also a limepit of failed and atrophied urban experiments. Having worked briefly in Red Hook (in the days before Ikea), I can say it has a certain charm. But you have to accept the itchy addicts that ride the B61 to the methadone clinic every morning, and the hookers that work the streets near “the Back” PJs. Oh, and the mangy pack of wild dogs that roam the Paul Revere Sugar Refinery will chase and probably kill you.
It’s a tough place, but even the softer, cuddlier things in Red Hook (papusas served out the back of someone’s van near the ball fields) will probably fall victim to our enterprising need for decency. Sadly, Red Hook stands to become the suburban playground of the patrician middleclass of Park Slope and Carroll Gardens who want to trade pigeons for seagulls for a day.
As an architect, I’d like to see everyone leave Red Hook alone, or at least exhibit some sensitivity to its industrial bruises. You have to really understand this misty island world before you can suggest improvements.
Several design competitions have been launched in recent months that concern Red Hook: The Forum for Urban Design’s Bicycle Design Competition and Architecture for Humanity’s Marketplace for the Red Hook Vendors. Fail By Design will be discussing the entries and their implications for the Red Hook community.
