Introduction
This essay examines the urban divisions of Venice in Los Angeles (LA), USA, and Dorsoduro in Venice, Italy, through the lens of remaking the American metropolis. Drawing on James Scott’s analysis in Seeing Like a State (1998) of how states impose legibility on spaces, and Spiro Kostof’s exploration in The City Assembled (1992) of urban forms like streets, public places, and divisions, the comparison highlights how historical, economic, and policy drivers shape and reshape city districts. Venice, LA, developed as a planned tourist resort in the early 20th century, contrasts with Dorsoduro’s ancient, organic evolution from a medieval trading hub to a modern, tourism-oriented area. By mapping edges, infrastructure, public spaces, and sacred elements, this analytical narrative assesses connectivity, drivers of change such as tourism and race, and issues of sustainability. The discussion reveals similarities in adaptive remaking amid secular shifts, while underscoring differences rooted in governance and cultural identity, ultimately illuminating broader themes of urban transformation in American and European contexts.
Historical Contexts and Drivers of Urban Formation
Venice, LA, and Dorsoduro exemplify contrasting trajectories in urban development, influenced by economic ambitions, policy decisions, and social dynamics. In Venice, LA, the district was intentionally designed by developer Abbot Kinney in 1905 as a beachfront resort mimicking Venice, Italy, complete with artificial canals, gondolas, and amusement piers (Stanton, 1993). Kinney’s plan aimed to create a “Venice of America” for tourism and leisure, transforming marshy land into a themed destination. This high-modernist approach, as critiqued by Scott (1998) in chapters on authoritarian modernism, imposed a legible grid on nature, prioritizing aesthetic and commercial appeal over organic growth. However, racial histories complicate this narrative; areas like Oakwood (often misreferred to as “Dogtown” in some accounts) were historically segregated, serving as a refuge for African American and Latino communities amid redlining policies that restricted access elsewhere in Los Angeles (Avila, 2004). Economic drivers, including post-World War II decline and 1960s counterculture influx, remade the area, with gentrification accelerating in the 21st century due to tech industry spillover from nearby Silicon Beach.
In contrast, Dorsoduro in Venice, Italy, boasts a deeper historical fabric, originating in the medieval period as part of the city’s sestiere system. Initially a working-class and artisanal district built on reclaimed land, it evolved through centuries of maritime commerce, with influences from Byzantine and Renaissance eras (Crouzet-Pavan, 2002). Unlike Venice, LA’s rapid invention, Dorsoduro’s form emerged organically, shaped by topography—its “hard back” ridge providing stable ground amid lagoons—and ecclesiastical governance, with churches like Santa Maria della Salute defining spatial identity (Kostof, 1992). The shift to tourism intensified after the 19th century, as Venice transitioned from a trading republic to a cultural heritage site, driven by policies promoting preservation and sustainability, such as those under the European Union’s urban regeneration frameworks (European Commission, 2019). Economic pressures, including overtourism, have remade edges, with gentrification displacing locals, paralleling Venice, LA’s racial and class-based changes. Both districts reflect Scott’s (1998) notion of state-led legibility, where policies overlay historical layers, but Dorsoduro’s continuity contrasts Venice, LA’s disruptive reinvention.
Mapping Edges, Infrastructure, and Connectivity
Mapping the edges and infrastructure of these districts reveals how governance and policy influence spatial continuity and remaking. In Venice, LA, edges are defined by beaches, canals (now largely filled), and highways like the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH), which acts as a seam separating residential zones from commercial strips. Topography plays a role, with low-lying areas prone to flooding, hidden hydrological maps that underlie infrastructure vulnerabilities (City of Los Angeles, 2021). Zoning and redlining historically created invisible edges; for instance, Oakwood’s boundaries were shaped by discriminatory lending practices, fostering ethnic enclaves (Avila, 2004). Connectivity relies on a grid of streets and alleys, supported by cars, bikes, and limited transit like the Metro Expo Line, but freeways such as the I-10 create barriers, exacerbating segregation. Scott (1998) would critique this as authoritarian modernism, where infrastructure prioritizes control and efficiency over community cohesion. Movement is car-dominated, with streets serving drainage and power functions, but racial and economic drivers—wealth disparities and gentrification—have remade these spaces, turning former canals into roads for accessibility.
Dorsoduro’s edges, conversely, are organic and water-bound, framed by the Grand Canal and Giudecca Canal, with topography dictating narrow calli (streets) and campi (squares) that enhance pedestrian connectivity (Crouzet-Pavan, 2002). Unlike Venice, LA’s highways, Dorsoduro lacks freeways, relying on vaporetti (water buses) and walking paths, promoting sustainability amid Venice’s car-free policy. Hidden maps include jurisdictional patterns, with ecclesiastical ownership historically influencing land use, now overlaid by zoning for heritage protection (European Commission, 2019). Connectivity within the district is dense, linking to the larger city via bridges like the Accademia, fostering a seamless urban fabric. Kostof (1992) notes streets as principal public spaces; in Dorsoduro, they double as social and drainage arteries, adapted over centuries. Transformations stem from cultural drivers—tourism policies post-1966 flood led to infrastructural reinforcements—contrasting Venice, LA’s materiality-driven changes, where wealth and race dictated freeway placements that reinforced divisions.
Similarities emerge in how edges adapt to tourism: both districts have seen infrastructure remade for visitor influx, with Venice, LA’s boardwalk and Dorsoduro’s galleries as connective morphologies. However, differences highlight causality; Venice, LA’s changes often stem from economic opportunism and racial policies, while Dorsoduro’s evolve from ecological and historical preservation.
Public Places, Sacred Spaces, and Cultural Shifts
Public places and sacred spaces in both districts underscore secularization and remaking drivers. In Venice, LA, the boardwalk serves as a core gathering node, originally part of Kinney’s tourist vision, functioning as a connective structure for commerce and leisure (Stanton, 1993). Parks like Venice Beach Recreation Center provide open spaces, but sacred areas are minimal; early plans included no prominent temples, reflecting a secular, entertainment-focused culture. This aligns with Kostof’s (1992) observation that modern districts may erase temenos (sacred precincts), as economic drivers prioritized beaches over churches. Changes, such as gentrification, have redefined edges, with public places now contested by homelessness and commercialization, influenced by policies ignoring racial histories in Oakwood.
Dorsoduro, however, retains sacred cores like the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute, a 17th-century temenos that historically organized the district, drawing pilgrims and shaping edges (Crouzet-Pavan, 2002). Public places like Campo Santa Margherita act as vibrant nodes for gathering, with functions extending to markets and social interaction, enhanced by topography that hides hydrological risks. Secular shifts are evident; tourism has commodified these spaces, eroding sacred meaning, yet policies preserve them for sustainability (European Commission, 2019). Unlike Venice, LA, where sacred loss preceded secular culture, Dorsoduro’s changes follow economic transitions from trade to tourism, with the temenos adapting rather than disappearing.
Both cities show secular remaking, but drivers differ: Venice, LA’s from planned tourism and racial dynamics, Dorsoduro’s from cultural heritage and policy. Hidden factors, like environmental justice in Venice, LA’s flood-prone areas, mirror Dorsoduro’s acqua alta vulnerabilities, influencing public space design.
Conclusion
In summary, comparing Venice, LA, and Dorsoduro reveals how urban divisions are remade through edges, infrastructure, and public spaces, driven by tourism, policy, and social factors. Venice, LA’s engineered origins contrast Dorsoduro’s historical layering, yet both adapt to secular, tourism-led economies, echoing Scott’s (1998) critiques of imposed legibility and Kostof’s (1992) emphasis on connective morphologies. Implications for American metropolises include addressing racial inequities and sustainability, as seen in hidden maps of segregation and ecology. This analysis underscores the need for inclusive planning to balance continuity and change, offering lessons for remaking cities amid global pressures.
References
- Avila, E. (2004) Popular Culture in the Age of White Flight: Fear and Fantasy in Suburban Los Angeles. University of California Press.
- City of Los Angeles (2021) LA’s Green New Deal: Sustainable City pLAn. City of Los Angeles.
- Crouzet-Pavan, E. (2002) Venice Triumphant: The Horizons of a Myth. Johns Hopkins University Press.
- European Commission (2019) Urban Agenda for the EU: Partnership on Sustainable Use of Land and Nature-Based Solutions. European Commission.
- Kostof, S. (1992) The City Assembled: The Elements of Urban Form Through History. Thames & Hudson.
- Scott, J. C. (1998) Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed. Yale University Press.
- Stanton, J. (1993) Venice California: ‘Coney Island of the Pacific’. Genie Coast Books.
