Analysis of urban policies, and particularly urban renewal policies, dispels the idea that historical knowledge can prevent the repetition of past mistakes. [1] Conversely, could knowledge of past successes prevent certain mistakes from being made in the present, though? We would like to believe so in the case of the garden suburb of La Butte-Rouge, built between 1929 and 1965 in Châtenay-Malabry, to the south-west of Paris, which is currently the target of a demolition–reconstruction project the futility of which becomes only too clear when reading Élise Guillerm’s historical monograph on this emblematic modernist neighborhood.
Modern suburb, model suburb
Designed by architects Joseph Bassompierre, Paul de Rutté, Paul Sirvin, and landscape architect André Riousse, La Butte-Rouge is the result of a project—“Cité-jardin du Grand Paris” (“Garden city for Greater Paris”)—proposed in 1919 by the Bassompierre and de Rutté in response to an international competition launched by the Prefecture of the former Seine département [2] and the City of Paris for the design of a development and expansion plan for Paris. Its construction by the Seine public housing office (Office Public d’Habitations à Bon Marché de la Seine; OPHBMS), chaired by Henri Sellier, began 10 years later and lasted nearly four decades, resulting in the delivery of 3,700 housing units for workers and “low-income earners” working in neighboring municipalities, as well as numerous community facilities harmoniously integrated into the wooded areas of the former “Parc de Malabry.” Although its construction took place over a long period, with seven successive phases reflecting various cosmopolitan influences, significant developments in construction techniques and social housing financing rules, La Butte-Rouge benefits from a formal coherence and rare landscape, architectural and urban qualities, which are perfectly captured in the rich iconography of the work.
Drawing inspiration from multiple references in international avant-garde architecture, La Butte-Rouge embodies a formal modernity that sets it apart in the picturesque world of garden cities built between the two world wars. It is nonetheless emblematic of the project of this international movement, driven by social reformers who sought to provide comfortable and affordable family housing for low-income households, while allowing them to enjoy a harmonious community life away from the nuisances of the modern city.
A modern housing project, La Butte-Rouge is also a model community that has attracted the interest of numerous foreign delegations and prestigious international architecture magazines. As much as its avant-garde architectural character, this model status is due to the multitude of urban innovations it has served as a platform for. During its construction phase, from the 1930s to the 1960s, as well as during its first renovation in the early 1980s, La Butte-Rouge was a testing ground for numerous experiments, as described in detail by Élise Guillerm. Its pioneering nature is striking to readers familiar with 21st‑century development projects.
All the qualities of an eco-neighborhood before its time
As you read, you can’t help but draw parallels and comparisons between the experiments at La Butte-Rouge and those in officially certified eco-neighborhoods and other “urban demonstrators” of the contemporary sustainable city. Even before construction began, La Butte-Rouge was the site of experiments in practices that are not unrelated to contemporary transitional urban planning operations. In 1916, the OPHBMS began acquiring the land on which La Butte-Rouge would be built, but it was not until 1929 that construction began. Rather than leaving the land fallow, the Office organized the installation of relief organizations on site in the aftermath of World War I, including the American Red Cross, with a view to “giving the Office’s property a temporary use as close as possible to [its] special purpose, until circumstances ceased to prevent the full realization of [its] projects.” [3]
The inclusion of a landscape architect in the project management team was also a first, resulting in the design of a master plan in which the landscape composition—rather than the road network—determined the layout of buildings, squares, plazas, and vast lawns, characteristic of the new art of living specific to garden cities. The creation of family gardens and community gardens was part of this quest for landscape amenities, while also aiming to provide residents with food to supplement their resources. This “short supply chain” production extended to the energy sector, with the installation of sink drains in homes built between the two world wars to collect household waste, which was transferred by compressed air to a nearby incineration plant that supplied hot water to the neighborhood’s swimming pool and public baths.
This dual-purpose sports and health facility was an integral part of the initial project, designed to accommodate all the infrastructure—health, educational, sports, recreational, and commercial—needed to make La Butte-Rouge a vibrant civic space. Far from being reserved for local residents, these facilities were designed with a supra-municipal perspective, like the swimming pool located along the national highway, to welcome people from all the southern suburbs far from the River Seine that did not have a public swimming pool. Innovation in terms of facilities was also evident in the private sector, with the establishment of a new type of store: the “Superhalles” mini-market, a precursor to the supermarkets that would multiply in French cities in the 1960s.
This status as a model city continued into the 1980s, when La Butte-Rouge was included in the Habitat et Vie Sociale (HVS; “Housing and Social Life”) program for a major redevelopment project. This project stood out within the HVS program for its respect for the original architectural and landscape qualities and for its investment in consultation, which resulted in individualized reconfigurations of the apartments to improve interior comfort by adapting to the preferences of each tenant on a case-by-case basis.
The steamroller of urban renewal
The situation is quite different for the urban renewal project launched in 2017, with the signing of a preliminary agreement with the National Agency for Urban Renewal (ANRU), which provides for the demolition and reconstruction of 1,300 homes. Tracing its origins in the last chapter of her book (“La Butte-Rouge, un patrimoine sans certitudes” [“La Butte-Rouge: heritage without certainties”]), Élise Guillerm immerses us in the controversies sparked by this project to demolish an exceptional architectural heritage site. She argues in favor of faithfully preserving the buildings and the social vocation of the neighborhood, contrary to a project which, if carried out, would distort the coherence of the garden city and greatly reduce the supply of low-rent social housing in a department that is already lacking in this area.
Neither the criticism from the architects’ rights holders, the director of the Île-de-France Regional Directorate for Cultural Affairs (DRAC), and the Architecte des Bâtiments de France, the warnings issued by leading figures in French architecture and urban planning calling for the protection of this remarkable heritage, or the opposition of many local residents, seem unable to slow down the steamroller of urban renewal. It is clear that this coalition of actors carries little weight in the face of the appetite of developers and the ambition of Georges Siffredi, mayor for Les Républicains (center-right) from 1995 to 2020 and now president of the Hauts-de-Seine Departmental Council, who has never hidden his desire to transform the shape and population of La Butte-Rouge. Here, as elsewhere, social diversity is being used to justify a reduction in social housing stock, in a municipality that has already seen its rate of low-income housing fall from 70% in the early 2000s to 40% today.
A witness to a century of urban policy, from the garden cities of the interwar period to contemporary urban renewal, La Butte-Rouge bears witness to the weakness of the protection measures enjoyed by 20th-century heritage. It also highlights, by contrast, the poor quality of 21st-century real-estate development. In this regard, comparison between the landscape quality and housing plans of this “garden city for Greater Paris,” where the modest size of the apartments was compensated for by their spatial qualities (brightness, dual orientation, high ceilings, integrated amenities, etc.) and the care taken with communal spaces and facilities, and those of the neighborhoods currently springing up around the new Grand Paris Express stations, is a cruel exercise for the latter.
