A pedestrian stands at a right angle to the horizon. Someone on a bike is constantly leaning. It would seem more fitting, to my mind, if a building located in some place where more people would view it on bikes, than on foot, were to echo the arching and leaning point of view of a cyclist. Cyclists do not stand perpendicular to the horizon, at least not for long. Turning a corner, we’re leaning. Straightening out, we slowly move upright.
I wonder how many cyclists have leaned their way into the space shown above, as they rounded the leaning end of this theatre in Taastrup—a suburb of Copenhagen? It has the kind of dynamic form called for by environments that people are choosing to enjoy with their bikes, rather than seeing them by going out for a walk.
So I’m being provocative, by putting the chicken ahead of the egg, or whatever—you choose. It is the expansion of the city into the suburbs, and onto former industrial land, and the way this work is all financed, that has thrust us into cities comprised of large stand-alone buildings, arranged on fields without cars. It is mere circumstance, making new cities, and giving them morphologies best navigated with the help of a bike. All in all though, it’s not a bad thing.