LiMa Housing, Berlin, by Herman Hertzberger. Photo: Axel Burvall courtesy are.na
With lockdown in effect in many parts of the world, and urban streets and squares largely empty, residential balconies have suddenly become the best place for the kind of impromptu, unmediated social contact that makes life in cities so interesting. These building appendages, for those lucky enough to have one, are suddenly our main place for neighbourly conversations, live musical performances, collective protests, and, at precisely 8 PM every evening (in Spain and Italy): applause for health professionals who are selflessly risking their own lives saving others. Even those traditional mini-balconies that provide standing room only and are more often used for growing plants or storing junk are now being enjoyed, and it?s not even summertime. DJs in some cities have set up sound systems and light-shows on their balconies, converting neighbouring balconies into dance-floors. During the day, balconies are places to work out and exercise our bodies (a news item mentions that a French runner training for a marathon ran 40 km on his luxurious seven meter wide balcony). The balcony is, at the moment, our principal exterior space in the city, yet there are architects who are against these elements, presumably because the junk that is often stored on them ?bicycles, cheap outdoor furniture, air conditioning units? clashes with the clean lines of anal-retentive minimalism. But there are also les...