The Center for Connective Architecture at Cooper Carry isn't easily defined. Founded five years ago on the belief that the principles of urbanism are critical to the health of the American city—and that urbanism is broader than architecture itself—The Center has had a dramatic impact on urban development around the United States.

Everywhere the Center has been invited, they have worked hard to make communities more people-friendly, better connected, less auto-dependent and more economically viable. Even as communities see tangible benefits from the Center's participation, the Center itself, as a unique collaborative of diverse talent—from architects to sociologists—defies ordinary definitions. We spoke with Principal Rich Flierl about the novel approach of the Center, its guiding philosophy and how his team applies the abstract to the real world.

A lot of firms in your business talk about the concept of integration, urban renewal, and creating more livable spaces in the city. How is your angle on it different?

RF: I'm not an architect, so the way I approach a project is very different than how an architect might approach it. We have architects in the team, but we set up the Center to be seamless, so that the titles "architect" or "planner" are much less relevant than the fact that you are an urbanist, and committed to the principles of genuine urbanism. From that premise, we function democratically. Team members are equal. Good ideas win. Every idea is valid until it falls away.

A diversity of disciplines is represented in The Center: architects, landscape architects, graphic designers, urban planners, sociologists and others. How do they work together?

RF: The truth is, if you think of yourself as an architect, you're limited. If you think you're an urban planner, you are only an urban planner, and so on. But in order to understand what's happening in the built world—and if you ever hope to have a positive impact on it—you have to believe you are more and blur the lines between design disciplines. You have to see the connections between architecture and community, between the anchor store and the automobile, between retail and residential, and how these, developed in isolation, ultimately disconnect us from each other, negatively impact local economies, and unravel the fabric of community. You have to see how all these factors flow together. In our studio, you have to think outside your design specialty—otherwise you can't be here. We try to make The Center as diverse in thought as the real world is.

You work in a variety of environments—urban, suburban, rural. Are there common features?

RF: The principles are the same. The principles of urbanism are very clear. Places need to walkable, engaged, connected without gaps. Building scales need to be correct to fit the size of the public realm. Urbanization of the suburbs is just another advent of city-making. It's bringing the principles of community back into the suburbs. And that's the next frontier-helping the sub-urban conditions evolve. The redevelopment and densification of the first and second ring suburbs is a tremendous opportunity for sustainable growth. Reconnecting disconnected suburbs. That is Connective Architecture. 
 
So from your perspective, urbanism isn't about monumental architecture but about addressing the needs of the people that use these spaces? 

RF: The original conception of The Center was all about connecting people: people to people, people to land, people to structure. That still rings true. We don't impose our preconceptions and personal desires on a space because we're not building for ourselves; we're building for the user. That's a really important concept. We're not building objects. We're building place. We are conscious of the spaces between the buildings. How do we address the public spaces that connect the private spaces, whether it is a park, a sidewalk café, or a retail storefront? This focus helps us create place, and place is community.

But the dynamic is different with each project? People use spaces differently.

RF: Place is always context-driven. We don't design for design's sake. The design is always connected to the experience of people in the space. Our spaces address needs, not just aesthetics. We search for simple, elegant solutions and are very disciplined in our approach. The elegance of simple spaces can be very beautiful.

In our master plan for downtown Raleigh, everything on Fayetteville Street—the principal downtown thoroughfare—has to be flexible. That street has to operate on many different levels. On the simplest level, it's a street that's getting cars in front of retail again. On its most complex, it's a street that fronts on the state capitol—a street where free speech happens. It is the State Street. People occupy the street in parades; they occupy it in public picket lines. The street is meant to be the street where people have their voice heard. Then there are commercial interests to consider. The point is—you can't impose design on a street like that. So we bring no preconceived notions other than an understanding of the principles of greater urbanism. And we adapt them to the context.

So a large part of your task is considering the social consequences of design?

RF: Yes, and even broader demographic issues. We've been able to work on a new town in Indiana to help it become a true city and not a typical suburban development. The components of that project include something called The Anson Plan, which is a master plan to create the next Indiana small town and develop a self-sustaining core along the major transportation corridor between Indianapolis and Chicago. The goal is to be sustainable and not dependent on cars and expressway connections. That's the choice many suburban developments are facing. It's a choice with long-term consequences—social and economic.  

How do you avoid becoming formulaic from project to project?

RF: There are always precedents. But it is also our job to be contextual; hence it becomes less formulaic. Take our Greensboro plan, for instance. There is a one-way street that has to work as a one-way street. But because it is a one-way street with considerable traffic volumes and high speeds, it is difficult to get retail or residential to hang on that street. We've been investigating solutions—we're out of the formulaic mold now—to drive contra-lanes against that one-way street. That would give us the capacities of the one-way, but the contra-lanes would allow land use to connect with the street. We're working with traffic engineers to solve it. We probably can't create a textbook multi-way boulevard, but we're close. It is through that kind of context-driven thinking that we'll be able to drive development in Greensboro that will engage people and place.

This sounds like you have a real need to be built.

Of course. Everything we draw is with the intention that it is going to get built—and we do this by offering solutions that are based not only in physical but economic realities. We never draw a plan that doesn't have legitimate building footprints in it. We won't draw a plan with a footprint that's not leaseable or valuable. When we are hired by the public sector in a downtown plan—as we were in Jackson, Mississippi—we identify catalyst sites and describe what we think the appropriate level and path of development should be. We help cities craft developer RFPs and find funding. Most of these communities don't know the development community and don't think they could attract a national player. We work with the community to find the right kind of developers and we draw what can be built.

You often have to manage the expectations of multiple groups. How do you balance civic, commercial and community goals?

In Raleigh, we have been working with Progress Energy on downtown developments. The clients, working with city managers, realized, 'We really need a downtown plan. We shouldn't be doing single-block development in Raleigh. We need a way to tie together all of the pieces of downtown.' The city set up the Livable Streets Initiative and the city staff ran it. The Center came in to facilitate consensus-building workshops. We bridged the gap between the public and private sectors. We were free to listen to all sides, then distill what we heard into a cohesive vision for Raleigh.

How did they respond to your ideas?

Our blueprint wasn't intended to 'wow' them with some fantastic architectural rendering. That's important to know—that is never our intention. Instead we told the community in Raleigh, 'You said you wanted to open the street, build a convention center and other objectives. Here are the five actions you need to take in order to achieve these goals.' We called it The Five in Five Plan. We worked with the public and private stakeholders to define strategies and timelines—exactly what it would take to get there. That was our role. Our impartiality is important—it allows people to trust the process and makes creative solutions more likely.

It seems like your work not only requires you to think about the periphery of the properties you help shape, but it requires you to think ahead-ten to twenty years down the line-and imagine how the people and community might evolve.

We are anticipating the future, and we have to accept that things change. Markets change, people's perceptions change, and our plans have to be able to adapt to the market place. But the creation of the public realm isn't going to change. This is a tenet that I really believe: the structure of the planning should not change; what happens on the individual blocks can. The public connections have to stay the same. As long as the public realm is revered and creates great memories, future development can be fluid and evolve with the people. Great places have always done this.