When was the last time you heard any initiative in Albany be described as "bold"? That is, aside from rhetorical riffs of self-congratulation by politicians.
Lay aside hyperbole. What's a "bold" step in a city's life? What might it be here?
Bold is what Chicago was in 1900, when the city's water source was at risk. The Chicago River was carrying a heavy load of debris and sewage downstream to Lake Michigan. So the city undertook one of the great engineering feats of the early 20th century: it reversed the river's flow, and saved the lake.
Bold describes San Antonio during the Great Depression, when citizens voted to tax themselves to fund the conversion of a polluted flood control ditch into a scenic walkway, drawing millions of visitors annually to its gardens, shops and restaurants.
Bold action is how Cleveland recreated itself, from being the model of Rust Belt decay, on a river so polluted that it famously caught fire in 1969, to an economically diverse center of technology, education and health care — a place that now is actually cool.
Bold is what Albany needs to be now. A combination of factors, including the certainty of new leadership in City Hall, are aligned to offer an opportunity to do more than settle for incremental progress.
In fact, it's the smart steps taken recently in the city that demand a bold broader vision now.
This week brought the announcement that the old DeWitt Clinton Hotel, closed for almost four decades despite its prominent location just across the street from the state Capitol, will undergo a $48.5 million renovation. Imagine: A lobbyist heaving a silver dollar from the Capitol's shadow will be able to hit a high-end hotel rather than an empty brick hulk. Luster will be added to Albany's brand.
Another transformative project was unveiled two weeks ago by Albany Medical Center: a $110 million plan to transform Park South, once a crime- and drug-ridden neighborhood steps away from Washington Park, into a cluster of medical offices and five- and six-story apartment buildings with street-level shops. If the project is executed with care for people displaced from their homes, it could further solidify Albany's reputation as a leader in health care, which is not only good in its own right but also a lure for families and companies thinking of locating here.
Consider, too, the investments that developers are making in downtown Albany residential real estate. High-end condos are opening in old commercial buildings on blocks not far from the Palace Theater and the Pearl Street entertainment district. Nearby, Habitat for Humanity imaginatively plans 10,000 square feet of new housing in Sheridan Hollow, a neighborhood long characterized by boarded-up houses and vacant lots.
On Broadway, historic Kiernan Plaza — downtown's gorgeous old train station — is poised to become an incubator to house high-tech start-ups.
And then there is the just-released plan for a scaled-down convention center — a two-story, 80,000-square-foot building just behind the DeWitt Clinton, which would connect by covered walkways to the Times Union Center and the Empire State Plaza's underground concourse.
What are we to make of that?
Until we know more, it's hard to say. Advocates for years have touted the need for what had been planned a bit farther east from the new site: a $220 million, 300,000-square-foot convention center. But it lost political support during the recession.
Will a smaller facility up the hill — on a site rejected by planners a few years ago — provide lasting value? Or is the new proposal just a way to quickly use the $63 million remaining in a state grant for the project, and fill largely vacant land near the Capitol with a gleaming new steel-and-glass structure?
Maybe the new convention center idea is smart. It could be that the bigger project was a mistake and the recession has "right-sized" the notion.
Or would something more bold simply be too exhausting? Albany and other communities its size often waste opportunities by fashioning ideas for the future that lean toward the safe and ordinary and away from the unique — toward vanilla, say, rather than bold flavors.
What would be bold here?
Bold would be something that can't be found anywhere else. Take, for one example, the idea long championed by my colleague Harry Rosenfeld to build an authentic replica of the area's original Dutch settlement, Fort Orange, along the Hudson River waterfront. Partnering with area academic institutions and museums, Old Fort Orange could draw tourists and scholars alike. At a fraction of the cost of a convention center, it might be an economic engine for the community. Bold need not be expensive.
Albany doesn't need to reverse the flow of a river or build a massive public works project to be bold. But it does need to be sure that its vision is clear and ideas strong, and that it's not wasting the promising steps that have brought us to a point where boldness is needed to make progress possible.