Iran (IMNA) -  Reclaiming urban recognition is an important issue in historic cities like Isfahan that have an identity formed by hundreds of years of architecture, craftsmanship, landscape, water systems, and patterns in social life & artistic traditions. This identity does not lend itself to a conservationist approach of copying historic motifs onto new products. The prevalence of arbitrary use of traditional patterns, colors, or decorations can serve to quickly make the essence of urban identity mere ornament. Hence, the real task for urban planners and designers is not to replicate history but to translate its essence into modern urban design.

From Ornamental Identity to Contextual Urban Identity

One of the most meaningful approaches rests on what can even be considered the identity of place in the first place. Historic identity can find its way of expression through materials, proportions, geometry, craftsmanship, colors and textures, symbols, and relationships between built form and landscape. Such traits can inform a design vocabulary for new urban components without mimicking the old architecture.

Urban furniture provides the most accessible medium for this one. A bench, for example, should not replicate the facade of a historic building. Instead, its proportions, material palette (and in some cases structural rhythm detail), surface texture or detailing might mirror local architectural traditions. Likewise, lighting infrastructure can be operationally tuned through internationally updated standards of safety, efficiency, and accessibility while optimally incorporating local forms and materials. At a reduced scale, paving patterns can reimagine historic geometries, producing connections between the historical urban pattern and new public space.

A third area of opportunity is represented by walls and urban physical arrangements. Plenty of surface space becomes a part of this city's identity system rather than remaining anonymous infrastructure. However, murals or other decorative patterns should not be considered mere ornamental elements. They can be designed to respond to the neighborhood's history, geography, and culture. Your interpretation of local identity might differ from that required along a wall in a historic district, along a transportation corridor, and across a residential neighborhood.

Such a principle would, I believe, be contextual identity, not ornamental identity. It raises the question of decorative identity — what historic insignia can be emblazoned onto this thing? Contextual identity asks an even simpler question: What aspects or qualities that make this place communicate the identity of a city should this thing say? The difference is crucial. The first approach yields monotonous and unrealistic cityscapes; the latter creates a cohesive and almost iconic public realm.

Urban Identity Needs Hierarchy, Not Historical Imitation

Another point of the strategy is not to make every component in the city transparently “traditionalistic.” A city where every bench, lamp post, waste bin and barrier bears the same historic motif might actually undermine its identity by visual saturation. Identity requires hierarchy. Visibly dense spaces could press heavy cultural references, whereas nondescript streets can assert identity on more subtle issues such as materials, proportions, colors and textures where craftsmanship is concerned.

And  this is especially true of historic cities like Isfahan. It is not just Naqsh-e Jahan Square, its old bridges or grand mosques that define the city. Its identity is embedded in the matrimonial relation between bricks and turquoise, the geometric disposition of traditional motifs, the presence of water, shade, and vegetation, the craftsmanship of tilework, giant-scale pedestrian spaces, a characteristic sequence of courtyards and passages, and social life, which has always played a role in its public domain. Such elements can create a modern vernacular for streets and public spaces while keeping the city's character intact, without turning it into a seemingly perpetual stage of historical copies.

The objective should also not be to make every urban element visibly “traditional.” A city in which every bench, lamp post, waste bin and barrier carries the same historic motif may actually weaken its identity through visual saturation. Identity requires hierarchy. Significant spaces may accommodate stronger cultural references, while ordinary streets can express identity through subtler characteristics such as materials, proportions, colors, textures and craftsmanship.

This is particularly relevant to historic cities such as Isfahan. The city's identity is not limited to Naqsh-e Jahan Square, its historic bridges or monumental mosques. Its identity is also embedded in the relationship between brick and turquoise, the geometry of traditional patterns, the presence of water, shade and vegetation, the craftsmanship of tilework, the scale of pedestrian spaces, the sequence of courtyards and passages, and the social life that has historically occupied its public realm. These elements can inspire a contemporary design vocabulary for streets and public spaces without turning the entire city into a stage set of historical replicas.

Shade structures, seating arrangements, vegetation, water-sensitive designs, and surface material in cities that experience hot/dry weather provide opportunities to create space which responds to climate as well as to traditional spatial elements. Climate has long been understood as a component of a place’s identity but one that is often overlooked when considering urban form.

Beyond Street Furniture: Building a Unified Urban Identity

Technology shouldn’t mean there’s a cultural disconnect between the history of our city and modern-day requirements either. As we’ve written about before, integrating smart lighting, digital information panels, interactive signage, and charging infrastructure, among others, into a cohesive local design language means technology doesn’t need to erase the essence of our city. By designing these elements using a place-based approach, digital infrastructure becomes another layer that feeds into local identity instead of being a generic import.

We think most importantly about how we can treat urban identity as a system not simply a series of disparate objects. Beautifully designed benches are irrelevant if our overall streetscape lacks coherence. It’s all about relationships; how paving interacts with lighting, signage, vegetation, street furniture, façades, public art and mobility infrastructure, and how those relationships produce a visual and experiential identity.

To achieve this, cities need integrated urban design guidelines. These define design principles—for instance, around materials, proportions, colours, patterns, typographies, lighting, accessibility, and placement that provide enough flexibility to allow designers to tailor solutions to suit various situations without prescribing one particular solution for each place. These guidelines shouldn’t prescribe a singular design—but instead create a family of related items that together form a recognisable urban language through which cities develop their own distinct identities. This allows neighbourhoods to retain their unique characteristics but still contribute to a city-wide identity.

Designing a City With One Language and Many Voices

Most importantly, urban identity should be treated as a system, not as a collection of isolated objects. A beautifully designed bench cannot compensate for an incoherent streetscape. The relationship between paving, lighting, signage, vegetation, street furniture, façades, public art and mobility infrastructure is what ultimately produces the visual and experiential character of a street. Cities therefore need integrated urban design guidelines that establish principles for materials, proportions, colors, patterns, typography, lighting, accessibility and placement while allowing sufficient flexibility for designers to respond to different contexts.

Such guidelines should avoid prescribing a single design for every location. Instead, they should establish a family of related elements. The result should be a recognizable urban language with variation rather than uniformity. This approach allows neighborhoods to maintain their individual character while remaining part of a broader city identity.

This raises the question of the role of the social dimension. What gives our cities their particular identity? This needs to be determined in collaboration with those who live there, as well as other interested parties. Residents, craftspeople, artists, historians, and local communities may each know what is important to them regarding the significance of places in terms of culture, history, and heritage.

Participative approaches can assist in identifying those aspects of cultural identity that really touch people, rather than being used symbolically or commercially. To integrate the concept of local and historic identities within the fabric of today’s urban environments successfully, we need to find a balance between memories and modernity, between historical values and current realities. In short, the objective of good urban design is to allow for expression of the city's history without stifling it by freezing a city in time. We want a city able to evolve, embracing new technologies, new lifestyle choices, new environmental challenges and new generations.

What makes for success amongst these examples is rarely their appearance — they don’t have to look old – but rather how effectively each element connects our current way of living with where we are as people. Each has become a little bit of our cities’ collective memories because at the heart of their designs lay connections to local culture, environmental circumstances and space-making traditions.

Historic character need not reside in the museum but should find itself slowly being reinterpreted in terms of the everyday city. If we want our historic identities to be understood by all, then we must reinterpret them so that they translate themselves well enough for everyone else to understand. This process should help us ensure that urban furniture and infrastructure do not remain anonymous entities but become key elements of the cultural landscapes in which we live. While such efforts shouldn’t attempt to make contemporary cities appear historical (which could prove dangerous), instead we need to consider ways whereby the contemporary city belongs to its history yet expresses itself in its own time.