Riyadh

Transforming a Desert City

Yasser Elsheshtawy

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781000460643
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Architecture
• Subtopic: Urban Planning & Landscaping

Riyadh has set its sights on becoming a world city befitting the twenty-first century. To that end it has embarked on a massive construction drive evidenced in the proliferation of proposals for high-end districts, giga-developments and elaborate infrastructures. An urban vision seemingly dedicated to attracting global capital. Yet such a narrative can be misleading. A 'humanization programme', initiated during the tenure of its former mayor Abdulaziz bin Ayyaf, has complemented the city's rapid rise by providing spaces catering for the everyday needs of its inhabitants. Yasser Elsheshtawy, in this richly illustrated book, targets these people-centred settings. It is a compelling counter-narrative interweaving critical theoretical insights, personal observations, and serendipitous encounters. He deftly demonstrates how Riyadh thrives through the actions of its people. As the world moves towards an urban model that is resilient and humane, the humanizing efforts of an Arab city are worthy of our attention. Riyadh's premise is perhaps best captured in the cover image depicting the desert riverbed of Wadi Sulai, filled with rainwater, making its way towards the Saudi capital. Along its banks there will be dedicated public pathways and urban parks. It is a vision of an urbanity where both the spectacular and the everyday coexist. A city that is not just dedicated to the few, but one that serves the many.

Chapter 1

Introduction: Discovering Riyadh

Prologue: Three Days in Riyadh

Figure 1.1. Riyadh’s old airport, early 1970s. (Source: Contemporary postcard)

As the plane descended into King Khalid International Airport in Riyadh I recalled my first journey to the Kingdom in 1974. At the time my father was appointed as Professor at what was then Riyadh University – now King Saud University. My mother, brother and I were visiting from Egypt where we had moved after living in Switzerland and Germany for more than ten years. Having hardly had any time to adjust to the chaos of Cairo, Riyadh and the Arabian Peninsula seemed like an exotic and curious place for which I had no specific reference point. And yet here we were. The airport seemed to me to be comprised of a series of small rooms (figure 1.1). As we exited the building we were greeted by my father who then drove us to where he lived – a place in southern Riyadh called Badi’a. My memories of that drive and our subsequent stay are fragmented and not very clear. I do recall vast highways, scattered buildings in the midst of a desertscape. Downtown was mainly two streets – Al Wazir and Al Thumairi – which is where everyone in the city seemed to go for shopping and strolling. The water tower was a major landmark standing alone in the midst of empty land. Markets were remarkable, both exotic and chaotic: Batha, with an open canal of sorts bisecting its main street, and a vegetable centre in Deira. I recall vividly the smell of spices, the sight of men in their robes, women in abayas (long gowns) with their faces covered, and the religious police, or mutawa’, guarding entryways and carefully inspecting passers-by. There were no cinemas and only one TV station which started at 5pm with an assortment of cartoons. All of these were initial impressions and how I recall the city’s urban landscape which I found distinct from Cairo – instilling in me both apprehension and curiosity. It seemed a mixture of village, small town and modernizing metropolis.

We returned a few times after that first encounter. Each time the city changed a bit. More buildings came on board. My father moved from Badi’a to a building on Wazir Street, named Rosay’yis – an upgrade of sorts. A five-star hotel, the Intercontinental, opened; entering its vast atrium lobby was a unique experience. There was a sense of luxury and distinction. We encountered American style upscale supermarkets and new items began to enter our household: the instant orange juice drink Tang, peanut butter and Uncle Ben’s rice; distinctly American brands so different from what my European/German/Egyptian palate was familiar with. More and more it seemed that the city acquired a slightly optimistic character. It opened up to the world, albeit reluctantly.

By the end of the 1970s I was no longer able to make the journey due to visa requirements (I had turned 16) and my memories of the city slowly faded away. Although I did follow its architectural and urban growth through the unique architectural magazine Al-Bena’a.

In 1997 I became a Professor of Architecture at United Arab Emirates University in Al Ain where I remained for close to two decades. Naturally my attention turned to the spectacular urban conglomeration of Dubai but also Abu Dhabi and to some extent Doha. Those became my reference points, my baseline, for anything related architecturally to the region. Remarkably I never visited Saudi Arabia during my stay in the UAE. And so, in 2018, after relocating to the US, I received a call from an acquaintance in Riyadh to visit the Kingdom and experience the capital and its remarkable transformation. In many ways this ‘re-engagement’ was transformative for me as well.

After forty years my plane descended once again into Riyadh’s new (old) airport which at the time of its opening in the 1980s was a uniquely modern structure, incorporating traditional elements, and one which we as students of architecture studied extensively in architectural magazines. Over the following three days – the duration of my stay in the city – I was welcomed warmly by my hosts who proceeded to take me on a tour. I had the privilege of seeing both its glamorous structures and landmarks but also its lesser known initiatives, specifically the efforts at humanization. In those three days I witnessed the urban regeneration of streets, neighbourhood parks, vendor markets and community centres, all of which aimed at putting people front and centre. Throughout I came to realize that this is a very different urban setting from the one that I had become so familiar with. Riyadh is neither the spectacular city overlooking the shores of the Gulf nor does it resemble the proverbial centres of the Arab world. Instead, it has acquired a distinctive character. A modern twenty-first century metropolis, with all the issues and problems accompanying such a transition. Maturing and containing a complex array of layers. A population that is diverse traverses its urban spaces which are imbued with signs of time passing. These are not the sanitized and controlled spaces of other Arab Gulf cities. Rather there is a sense of urbanity – in all its messiness, informality and busyness – that reminded me somewhat of Cairo, but also other parts of the world. This was a ‘real’ city and not one that relies on a few spectacular gestures to claim relevance. True urban grit.

Figure 1.2. Ongoing construction along King Fahd Road in central Riyadh.

Riyadh is very much a city in flux. Driving through its various neighbourhoods and along its streets and highways one is surrounded by an endless amount of construction and traffic diversions (figure 1.2). The Metro project in particular is ever-present wherever one goes – overhead viaducts, stations both above and underground dominate the cityscape. Once complete the project promises to transform the city yet again. In its old centre new developments are coming up – such as the Dahu project, another Suq Waqif (Doha) perhaps. Nearby are older and more established markets: the Deira Souqs, the Maiqliya markets, and Souq Al Ta’amir. While older and in some cases outdated, they are nevertheless an important component of the city’s various urban layers. Retaining these is important for its urban memory. And it also means that Riyadh has matured in a way. It is not just a spectacular, gleaming and artificial city: it has various layers of history, accommodates a diverse population, but also strives and looks forward to embracing modernity. It is a city that struggles with urban problems, but also aims to find innovative solutions. Rather than engage in a rhetoric that merely seeks to view its urbanity as a form of investment for outsiders, or a fossilized open-air museum, it seeks to humanize, and to place people front and centre to its efforts. Through the provision of choices, the accommodation of diversity, and the realistic engagement with informality, Riyadh has the potential to defy the clichéd and outdated view of Arab Gulf cities as artificial and soulless entities.

Why This book?

As the story in the prologue demonstrates this book is an attempt to rediscover Riyadh. The city has fallen victim to many misconceptions, in large part due to the dominance of other urban models in the region. There is a tendency to paint its urban centres with a broad brush, leading to a lack of nuance in understanding the unique elements of its various cities. The urban imaginary of the Arab Gulf city is perceived through the lens of clichés. The miraculous growth of skylines over the last two decades; the dominance of spectacular architectural ‘wonders’. The gleaming metropolises along the shores of the Gulf are presented as evidence. Doha, Abu Dhabi and Dubai are the exemplars of an urban growth model that capitalizes on the monies received from oil, tourism and real estate speculation. These cities – so the narrative goes – are built for investors, visitors and short-term residents. The local population is relegated to the fringes, observing this growth from a distance. Such views may apply to those urban conglomerates, but does it hold true across the entire region? Cities such as Muscat, Kuwait, Manama, Jeddah and Riyadh, to cite a few, are very different in their urban trajectory, population demographics and histories. And yet, in spite of the obviousness of this assertion, the precepts surrounding urbanity in the region are derived from the tabula rasa discourse, and the ensuing unchecked urban growth. In many ways this is a misguided approach. Indeed, the region has a diverse range of urban development models, architectures and unique urban experiments. But it also faces the problems seen in cities elsewhere, such as inequality, a changing climate, and the spread of diseases.

Figure 1.3. Approaching Riyadh from the south driving along Olaya Street.

In examining other cities one can challenge the top-down narrative of rulers shaping cities according to their whims and desires; or dispute the widely held view of Western consultants descending in droves on cities, setting urban policies and influencing decisions, while amplifying the passivity and absence of the local population. All of these are misrepresentations, simplifications or even orientalist depictions of urban processes that very often do not follow such characterizations. In looking at cities such as Riyadh one can find a complex array of actors, stakeholders, decision-makers, architects and citizens who each in their own way play a unique and substantive role in shaping the built environment in which they reside. This is not just a matter of top-down political decision-making or following a Western model. Furthermore, institutions – municipalities, development authorities, planning commissions, NGOs – have a major impact too.

The city of Riyadh is particularly relevant in contesting the stereotypical perception of cities in the Arabian Peninsula. Numerous developments on the ground – largely inspired by a series of initiatives and development processes introduced by its former mayor Prince Abdulaziz bin Ayyaf – suggest a locally driven process that aims to serve the community. Rather than grand spectacles, small-scale gestures such as urban parks, pedestrianizing streets, or the provision of community centres, all imbue the city with a humanity and scale that defies the clichéd perception of the Arab Gulf City as merely a site of real estate speculation. This book by focusing on Riyadh thus aims to provide a much-needed corrective to the urban discourse of the Arabian Peninsula.

Why Riyadh?

In Riyadh a very interesting development has taken place over the last two decades which could be construed as a shift in the city’s urban planning paradigm, placing the focus of development on people and their wellbeing. This represents one of many series of changes originating in the twentieth century showing that it has a long and distinguished history of urbanization. Its modern planning was initiated during the reign of King Saud in the late 1950s, who introduced modern architecture to the city and cemented its position as capital. This included the relocation of ministries from Mecca, the construction of their respective headquarters and the building of a new neighbourhood, Malaz (figure 1.4). During the time Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (the current King) was governor of Riyadh (1963–2011) foundations were laid facilitating its transformation into a major urban centre in the Kingdom and the region. This was accomplished through an introduction and founding of institutional structures (e.g. the Riyadh Development Authority) and the development of masterplans guiding the city’s growth.

Figure 1.4. A postcard from the 1960s showing Airport Road and to the left ministry buildings, in what would eventually become the modernist Malaz district. (Source: Keith Wheeler)

Much changed when Abdulaziz bin Ayyaf, a member of the ruling family and an urban planner by training, became mayor in 1997, a position he held until 2012. He focused on improving the city’s liveability through a series of initiatives and projects which were to substantially affect the city’s urban growth trajectory. These include: management reform; improving communication with the public; initiating a series of environmental projects; diversifying financial resources; educational reform including the founding of Prince Sultan University; and establishing a centre for local governance, one of the first think tanks in the region in this field. A particularly significant initiative pertained to ‘Humanizing the City’. This entailed a reconfiguration of Riyadh’s urban environment to cater for people and their needs. It comprised a series of projects such as neighbourhood parks, community services, walking paths and a redesign of streets to accommodate pedestrians (figure 1.5).

Riyadh’s development in the twentieth century closely followed the typical Gulf urbanization model: a focus on car movement; reliance on spectacular architecture; and endless residential expansion. The subsequent shift in its planning paradigm however makes it a particularly interesting subject for understanding urban processes in rapidly changing societies. Indeed, analysing the way in which these processes took place would situate the city’s urban model within the wider subject of ‘people-centric urbanism’ as well as providing pertinent lessons in urban governance. By shifting the discussion to these two themes much of the artificial representations of the Arab Gulf city is countered. It is not a city of spectacle built from nothing, rather it is a city lived in by people who all in their own unique way make a significant contribution to the production of their built envir...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Series
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface and Acknowledgements
• Chapter 1 Introduction: Discovering Riyadh
• Part 1 City Governance for the People
• Part 2: Contextualizing Riyadh
• Part 3 Humanizing Riyadh
• Index