Leveraging Place in Santa Fe

A Humble Newbie's Guide to Seeing, Understanding, and Sustaining "The City Different"

The City Different from the Dog Park. Charles R. Wolfe photo

Oddly enough, I didn't know that Santa Fe, New Mexico, is called "The City Different" before I decided to live here. That's ironic for someone who writes about how cities are different and also the same.

This place—and its surrounding landscapes—have absorbed the residual assimilation energy of my five years abroad.

In Newbury, England, I lived in a house about 40 years older than the oldest remaining building in Santa Fe. My journey here has combined my familiarity with 16th- and 17th-century English and Spanish architecture with a new understanding of how subtle changes in surrounding landscapes can be more apparent than the buildings themselves.

My personal experience aligns with the concept of "leveraging place," which is the focus of my post-legal work. Today, I will lay out the premise for such leveraging—an underlying and continuous unfolding of a landscape, city, or neighborhood component—and provide some "how-to" slides from an upcoming presentation.

To do so, I don't need to gain a new perspective as an expat like my prodigal friends in the UK, Italy, France, and Spain—I was already one—but I am learning from that expat-based toolbox how to process that experience in a place that is now more interesting to me than many places overseas. As a humble newbie, I have consulted numerous sources because I have seldom found a place where so much is written or expressed through brush, charcoal, or camera.

As a contributor to John Pen LaFarge's Turn Left at the Sleeping Dog, in the "Layout of a Town," J.B. Jackson alluded to what stands behind the story of a remote Spanish outpost and the premises for its eventual urbanity. A plaza built on longstanding social and military traditions (not a commodity-based American National Grid) and the need for water delivered by the acequias, along which families wanted to live.

---

The Historic Santa Fe Foundation (HSFF) recently invited me to explore the type of question central to my post-legal career: how do we truly "leverage place" amid the layered complexities of Santa Fe? This question extends beyond historic preservation as traditionally practiced in the United States. Instead, it invokes the more European concept of "age value," analyzing what is worth preserving from prior, layered eras and how chosen forms of recognizing the past can inform a sustainable future. My favorite related reference was always Diocletian's Palace in Split, Croatia—until now.

A Santa Fe Style/City Different Compendium. Charles R. Wolfe photos

"City Different" was a clever term, a winning formula intended to market Santa Fe's complex history and cultural blending. It responded to the city's threatened irrelevance after the Santa Fe Trail era ended and the railroad elected to stop at Lamy. The term prevailed and came to stand for a protected aesthetic that captivates but can oversimplify.

As someone dedicated to understanding how places evolve and retain their character, Santa Fe is the case study I should have written about before. The City Different strategy is a worthy counterpart to Joan de Jean's 2014 deconstruction of Paris's long-term marketing as one of the most beautiful cities in the world—a tale she begins, ironically, in the Santa Fe Plaza's almost twin, the Place des Vosges.

In times when places can seem increasingly the same, discerning how to leverage Santa Fe's singular DNA requires looking beyond postcard imagery and resisting simplistic interpretations.

Some visitors, overwhelmed by the stylistic cohesion of the City Different, might momentarily mistake downtown for a perfectly curated theme park—or a paternalistically planned community. After a reminder visit to Orlando's Disney properties and the starchitect-rich Celebration last week, I can confirm that Santa Fe, evolving, is a different animal.

A legion of sources, including Chris Wilson's The Myth of Santa Fe and the work of Friends of Architecture Santa Fe (FASF), as well as the entirety of the region and daily news, remind us to engage with a full, often contradictory, narrative. This narrative should acknowledge connections, absences, and the numerous historical layers of the city, extending beyond architecture and landscapes (even the most beautiful).

Another source, Redding and Elrick's Through the Lens: Creating Santa Fe, reminds me that my immersive and visual inquiry into Santa Fe and New Mexico is not a new approach. Except it is new to me.

Behind the Adobe Curtain: Revealing Santa Fe's Innate Identity

To effectively "leverage place" in Santa Fe, in the spirit of "what makes Paris Paris," we must first identify what makes Santa Fe itself. This "innate identity" is not solely the product of regulation (the "Santa Fe Style" Historic District Ordinances in particular), though they play a significant role.

It's also deeply embedded in the layered, often organic evolution I explore in my work, as well as in applied immersion methodologies such as the urban diary, LENS, and LEARN.

The Enduring Power of "Urbanism Without Effort"

This concept, which I first wrote about in The Atlantic 14 years ago (documenting a spontaneous "alley movie night" in my then-Seattle neighborhood), became central to my book of the same name. It describes the organic, human-scale qualities that emerge naturally as people inhabit and adapt to a place over time.

I've sensed the concept in the historic acequia system in Santa Fe and much of northern New Mexico. These communal irrigation ditches, led by Mayordomos, are the organic expression of the region's water scarcity and communal allocation. Some have Indigenous origins, later formalized based on similar Spanish traditions.

At their core, the acequias serve as both water conduits and the basis for the routes along their paths. They frame street names, patterns, and property lines. As Jackson implied, they create places for homes and gardens, along with their associated ambiance, such as the historic area located south of Canyon Road.

The Acequia Madre ("Mother Ditch") is a prime example; its path remains a defining geographic feature—a curving road that follows its path from the mountains and the focus of a bike and walking path between the Santa Fe and Baca railyard districts. As a sign along its bank could proclaim, in gentle defiance of any theme-park notions about the city, "'No, said the Acequia Madre. It is not Disneyland."

The ancient, now-evolved acequia concept is a latent example of community-driven infrastructure born of necessity, a deep understanding of the arid environment, and a continued leveraged asset at the heart of gentrification and water rights debates.

Despite development pressures and ongoing threats to their traditional role, the continued existence and reverence for the acequias represent a deep "place value." As a recent article explains, their worth supersedes irrigation or picturesque appeal. They retain cultural, historical, and community significance—a microcosm and touchpoints for what sustaining place means.

Similarly, the easily observed, historic street layout in downtown Santa Fe, narrow and sometimes winding and irregular, was not designed for automobiles but evolved from early colonial settlement patterns, military tradition, Indigenous trails, and the practicalities of a pre-industrial era. The Plaza, established by Governor Pedro de Peralta around 1609-1610 as a central defensible space and gathering point, reflects these organic origins and the traditions of the Laws of the Indies and European urban squares.

A Palimpsest: Morphing from Palace to Everyday Landscapes

Santa Fe is not a historical moment frozen in time; it's a palimpsest, full of write-overs, always in transition in the sense of "urbanism without effort," and easily observable through the urban diary approach discussed below.

Among its most prominent examples—the Palace of the Governors, one of the oldest continuously occupied public buildings in the United States (built in 1610)—has witnessed centuries of change, from Spanish colonial administration to Pueblo Revolt, Mexican rule, U.S. Territorial governance, and statehood. Several alterations (some refer to them as "restorations") reflect shifting perceptions, tastes, and interpretations.

Leveraging place means looking beyond such monumental structures to the "everyday landscapes" that reveal subtle backstories. Some are in historic areas that immediately resonate with the Santa Fe Style. In contrast, others are more distant from downtown and are not necessarily where visitors will find the stage setting they might expect or hope for. These everyday places, often overlooked by the casual visitor, are rich with a mixed bag of stories of adaptation and change.

The Palimpsest of the Barrio Analco. Charles R. Wolfe photo

The following summary—not a travelogue—suggests fertile ground for the "innate identity" search:

• Consider the Barrio de Analco, across the Santa Fe River from the Plaza, settled by the Spanish and Tlaxcalan Indian allies in the early 1600s. Analco (across the river, its literal meaning) became a significant "suburb" of mixed ethnicity. Historic structures include some of the oldest in the nation, and one, the Brito House, claims the title of "oldest house in Santa Fe" based on its brickwork and foundation. The San Miguel Chapel (rebuilt after the Pueblo Revolt) is a key city historic resource, the oldest church structure in the continental United States:

  [A] place of worship for diverse groups of Native Americans; an infirmary for Franciscan missionaries; a target for autocratic officials and exploited Pueblo groups; a military chapel; a unique venue for talks, concerts, celebrations, and ceremonies; and a sanctified space for Sunday Mass in Latin and English.

• In the readily observable downtown area, away from the Plaza, remnants of the Territorial period (post-1846) reveal newer materials, such as milled lumber, fired brick for decorative copings, and larger glass windows, subtly altering the earlier adobe forms.

• The early 20th century witnessed the emergence of the "Pueblo Revival" or "Santa Fe Style" movement, most closely associated with names such as Carlos Vierra and John Gaw Meem. This movement fostered a distinct regional architecture based on idealized interpretations of Pueblo and Spanish Mission forms in response to the railroad's influx of Victorian and Neoclassical styles. The readily observable "Santa Fe Style" layer is arguably the most place-leveraging attribute for the City Different-dominated tourist economy. Beyond La Fonda and the Plaza area, the School for Advanced Research campus (once the home of the White sisters) is a one-stop shop for the style.

• Further afield, neighborhoods like Don Gaspar showcase early 20th-century bungalows and other styles, reflecting different waves of growth, with some even featuring unique "pen tile" (stone blocks shaped by inmates of the old state penitentiary). The commercial corridor of Cerrillos Road—sprawling, the stuff of ongoing studies, near the Midtown Redevelopment Area, and the center of safety and homelessness debates—tells the story of the city's 20th-century expansion tied to mining, the railroad, and the rise of automobile travel, incorporating remnants of old Route 66 alignments.

Connections, Absences, and Contested Narratives

Leveraging place also requires understanding the connections between cultures, as well as "absences" or less-visible narratives with few accessible remnants. Some elements of Santa Fe's history are initially obscured from the visitor. Without a purposeful explanation, it can be challenging to understand the physical reflection of the activities and conflicts among Pueblo inhabitants, Spanish colonizers, Mexican administrators, and later Anglo-American settlers. The Pueblo Revolt of 1680 was a particularly pivotal event that temporarily drove the Spanish out and reshaped the region.

Here are some "innate identity" examples of absences lurking behind current physical settings:

• Stories of the Genízaros (detribalized Native Americans, often former Spanish captives, who formed distinct communities, including in the Barrio Analco) played significant roles in colonial New Mexico and are now hidden in the layers. Similarly intangible are many details surrounding the arrival of new waves of traders and settlers via the Santa Fe Trail after 1821, including early Jewish merchants and Europeans who contributed to the construction of the Cathedral of St. Francis and the Loretto Chapel.

• Later, African American communities, including Buffalo Soldiers stationed in New Mexico to protect the Santa Fe Trail (several such soldiers are buried in the National Cemetery), impacted the state's development, often in the face of segregation.

• A particularly notable example stands adjacent to a large dog park, offering a territorial, east-facing view of the city. A 1992 plaque on a rock tells the story of the World War II Santa Fe Internment Camp, which held over 4,500 men of Japanese ancestry.

My explorations of such "absent" histories, often sparked by an innocuous sign, marker, or used book about state and local lore, have deepened my understanding of cities, settings, and landscapes. The New Mexico History Museum and contemporary arts organizations like SITE Santa Fe explore these complex, multilayered histories, promote dialogue about underrepresented narratives, and are a supplemental resource to my most recent immersive explorations.

Tools for Leveraging Place: Purposeful Observation and Engagement

In summary, and as reflected in my HSFF talk and the accompanying slides, here are some ways interested residents might undertake place-leveraging investigations in Santa Fe (or their communities) based on past articles, experiences, and recommendations.

The Urban Diary: Framing Place

This tool enables purposeful observation on an individual basis, as opposed to top-down or consultant-driven methodologies. Seeing the Better City provides several examples typically drawn from overseas. Use photography, notes, and sketches —whichever works for you —to document your experiences and perceptions of Santa Fe. Move from passive observer to active engagement, training your eye to discern place-defining nuances. Practice by capturing the texture of an adobe wall or fence silhouette, and begin to build your visual lexicon of the city. Try focusing on doorways, the play of light on Canyon Road, or the sounds in the Plaza or Railyard at different times of the day. These initial steps will enhance your ability to observe.

LENS (Look, Explore, Narrate, Summarize): Structuring Observations

The LENS Method provides a structure for your Urban Diary:

1. Look Intently. Observe the details of an adobe wall, the play of light on a portal, the human activity in the Plaza, the architectural styles in a residential neighborhood like South of Capitol, or the mixed-use styles and activities in the Railyard District and the lesser-known Baca (both former industrial areas transformed into mixed-use communities).

2. Explore: Ask why. Think of the Barrio de Analco example above. What is the history of this particular building or street? How has it changed over time? What cultural influences are evident? For example, why does the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi have a Romanesque Revival style, contrasting with the dominant Santa Fe Style? (Did Archbishop Lamy bring French architects? Yes, he did.)

3. Narrate: Capture your findings. Assemble a photo series of historic doorways. Compile notes on Canyon Road's (or other venues) sounds and smells during an art festival. Sketch a hidden courtyard downtown or the former office of the Manhattan Project at 109 East Palace, now obscured by commercial activity.

4. Summarize: What do you think about Santa Fe's "character," values, and challenges? How does the intense blue of the sky, or dramatic clouds, influence your perception of its architecture and landscape?

Here is another applied example:

Try an urban diary and apply LENS on a particular block on Cerrillos Road. Look at the mix of old and new businesses, the signage, the panhandlers, and the pedestrian infrastructure (or lack thereof). Explore its history as part of Route 66. Narrate the experience of walking or driving. Summarize what this tells you about Santa Fe's 20th-century growth and car-centric development, and how this level of citizen-supplied detail may be lacking in the city's efforts to envision a new Cerrillos or the Santa Fe Forward process.

LEARN (Look, Engage, Assess, Review, Negotiate): From Observation to Collective Action

From Sustaining a City's Culture and Character, this framework transitions from individual observation in two dimensions to a community-level, co-created understanding and action, which is vital for sustaining a city's identity in an evolving world. Consider a comprehensive, stakeholder-based effort to:

1. Engage: With the diverse voices of Santa Fe, including longtime residents whose families have shaped the city for generations, to artists, entrepreneurs, city officials, and community activists involved in organizations beyond the historic preservation and architecture realms.

2. Assess: The complex forces at play, including the economic drivers and social impacts of tourism, the challenges of water management in an arid climate, the ongoing need for affordable housing, and the preservation of traditional building crafts.

3. Review: The comprehensive history of planning and preservation efforts, from Spanish colonial ordinances to the Historic District ordinances and contemporary city planning initiatives like Santa Fe Forward (which aims for broad, equitable community input in shaping the city's 25-year future). Chapter 5 of Seeing the Better City was devoted to incorporating citizen-based documentary efforts, such as urban diaries, into city planning, design review, and historic preservation processes and provided examples of efforts already underway.

4. Negotiate: The ideal path forward is challenging to achieve when multiple interests are involved. Such a path is not a top-down process. It requires dialogue and often compromise between different perspectives, such as balancing historic preservation administered by the Historic Preservation Division (e.g., the Historic Districts Review Board and the Archaeological Review Committee) with the unmet needs of a growing, contemporary city. While these efforts are not new, LEARN provides a roadmap for Santa Fe stakeholders to address pressing issues, such as housing affordability, in a way that respects the local context.

Sustaining Santa Fe: A Collective and Evolving Task

What is my recommended takeaway? In Santa Fe, leveraging place should avoid overemphasizing a romanticized past. Words like "authenticity" and "character" mean little without contextual analysis and considered reflection. As explained above, this means valuing the "Santa Fe Style" while celebrating other historical, cultural, and environmental layers. It means supporting and enhancing ongoing efforts to tell a more complete and inclusive story.

Organizations like HSFF can play a crucial role in spurring thoughtful reflection and input into preservation, education, and advocacy work. As HSSF's recent "Preserving Place: The Santa Fe Symposium" and FASF's ReVISION programming and charette show, such events can inspire an engaged citizenry willing to look deeply, ask questions, and participate in ongoing conversations about urban change in Santa Fe.

Ultimately, leveraging and sustaining the identity of "The City Different" is a collective responsibility, one that extends beyond preservation, and I hope I have provided some additional means to move forward.

My investigations into Santa Fe's layers and complexities are far from over. I'm constantly reminded that the most profound understanding of place comes from a sustained practice of looking, listening, and learning—a practice open to all. Even if it is within a city that John Pen LaFarge once noted started "on the back edge of nowhere," it is now indeed a remarkable blend of somewhere.