Playing: At present the fragmented neighborhoods offer limited areas in which to play. Palestinian children take advantae of large open spaces to the south of the site, and are often forced to use roadways as a soccer pitch due to a lack of any other suitable space. Backyards on the fringe of the olive grove are also used for activities, but are often filled with dangerous rubble/garbage. The park to the north lacks any playground or excercise facilities, and only small locations can be found between the trees in which to spread out and be active. For these reasons, playing and physical activity are at this moment not a catalyst for coexistence or co-operation.



















Picnicking/Gathering: The olive grove to the south offers an interesting scenario - it functions as one large public space in which many members of the community can enjoy simultaneously, and at the same time find a secure and comfortable space on the family or group level. The olive trees subdivide the space into smaller areas which families acquire for their own gathering space withing the whole. Interaction then occurs within these smaller cells. At this time, only the palestinian community seems to be frequenting the area. The Mount Scopus park frequented by Jews lacks any real gathering space - some families have been viewed eating at supplied picnic tables in the park, but relatively few.




















My approach to a neighboring center for the Sheik Jarrach site would be to create a link between the existing green spaces on the site. Public green spaces have been used effectively by both Jews and Palestinians and offers the best opportunity for the two communities to interact with one another


























For the new scheme to be effective, several things must occur. At present, neither the park beneath Mount Scopus or the Olive Grove have a real focal point or final destination. I believe the inclusion of a large playground apparatus and other childrens athletics facilities will create the drawing force necessary to bring both sides to one location as it supplies a sservice needed and desired by both comunities. The community gathering space of the Olive Grove will be extended northwards through the site, and will occupy the rift created by the retaining walls which support the interchange above. This gathering space will take its cues from the successful model of the existing grove - a large canopy space which can be subdivided easily per the desire or requirement of community events. The Grove will remain an integral peice of public space, but remain exterior and informal. A pedestrian link between the two parks will be crucial, and the large interchanges to the north of the site create a difficult obstacle to overcome. The north-south circulation again becomes crucial. It will be elevated above the gathering spaces and take the form of a suspended playground (as per the tectonic manifest) of bridges. These would terminate at the primary playspace of the site (in red), the focal point of the site. This playstructure would create the hub between the north-south circulation and the east-west circulation paths. The other athletics facilities would also be placed along this access.

ASSIGNMENT 3

Vehicles: Cars at present merely bypass the site along the major autoroutes leading to the French Hill and Ma'al Adumim settlements in East Jerusalem. This causes additional problems by forming a barrier at the northernmost point of the site - a critical junction between Jewish and Palestinian neighborhoods.

Pedestrian: To the northeast of the site is a large park which sprawls beneath the peak of Mount Scopus towards the site. In the south lies the olive grove which is a pedestrian crossroads between Wadi Joz and Sheik Jarrach, and also used for casual strolling. The site itself is and often used shortcut by locals moving from institution to home, home to business etc. The paths of the two populations very nearly cross, but the path is broken by the major interchange to the north the site.

Strolling: Both the Mount Scopus Park and the olive grove at the south of the site are popular places for recreational walks and hiking, albeit for different communities. Both green spaces are again terminated at the junction in the northernmost corner of the site, discouraging one from traversing from one side to the other.

Political Scape


The Physical and socio-economic barriers present in the Sheik Jarrach site are a direct manifestation of the political aims and policies of the two competing entities in Jerusalem.
The physical separation between the two Palestinian neighborhoods and from other Palestinian centers is due to policies that exist in Israeli urban planning. The urban jigsaw puzzle of entangled Jewish and Palestinian neighborhoods is a manifestation of the Israeli desire to limit Palestinian influence in Jerusalem through demographic domination.[1] By inserting new Jewish settlements between existing Palestinian population bases, the existing Palestinian neighborhoods are unable to expand in size due to a lack of building space. This physical division also limits freedom of movement, economic transaction, and social hegemony between Palestinian neighborhoods. In the case of the Sheikh Jarrach site, the French Hill settlement coupled with the institutions on Mount Scopus completely cut off Wadi Joz and Sheik Jarrach from northern population centers and forms a physical barrier to movement and exchange between communities.
The economic disparity between the two demographic groups is again a product of biased policies on the side of the Israelis, and a dogged stubbornness on the part of the Palestinians in ignoring and resisting other policies. As mentioned before, Jewish neighborhoods enjoy a 9:1 ratio of investment from the municipality of Jerusalem[2]. This ratio is again due to the policy of encouraging the growth of the overall Jewish population while inhibiting that of the Palestinians. Without proper roads, waste and electrical systems, Palestinian neighborhoods are unable to expand economically to support a larger population base. Without proper municipal planning, it has become almost impossible to obtain building permits in a Palestinian neighborhood. A further one-third of Palestinian land has been set aside as “green space” in which all building is prohibited, further limiting population growth.[3] Palestinians are also subject to much more scrutiny from Israeli security staff, further hindering the supply of goods.
The educational rift is more a product of the Palestinian policy of refusing to recognize Israeli claims to legitimacy of rule and a general lack of co-operation. When Jerusalem was unified/conquered in 1967, Israel attempted to take all Palestinian children into the current municipal school system. Many of the Palestinian children failed at abysmal rates, mostly voluntarily. Israel eventually let Palestinians receive the Arab education they wanted to receive, but then cut much of the funding to the Palestinian schools using their non-cooperation as justification for such an act.[4] The end result is separate school systems with one supplying a much better quality of education than the other. The quality of education again effects economic demographics, creating further separation between the two population views.
After examining policies of both Israelis and Palestinians, it is inaccurate to blame segregation and hostility solely on economic, educational or social conditions as these conditions are primarily imposed by higher political or institutional/religious powers than at the neighborhood level.
[1] Hasson, S. “A Master Plan for Jerusalem.”, Jerusalem: Points of Friction and Beyond,Ed. Moshe Macoz and Sari Nusseibeh, Kluwer Law,The Hague, 2000, pg 18. ,
[2] Marshall J. Breger and Ora Ahimeir, eds., Jerusalem: A City and Its Future, Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2002, pg 26.
[3] Ibid, pg 37
[4] Ibid, pg 107

The divide apparent in such physical boundaries as walls and fences becomes clear when examining the institutions and public spaces which provide social services and education to the differing population bases of Jerusalem. Although Jerusalem is under the supervision of one municipality, its children are not subject to an education in the same school system.[1] After 1967, Palestinian citizens of Jerusalem were allowed to continue to educate their children in the Arab manner previous to the 1967 invasion. Many of the Palestinian children attend Arab private schools and very few integrate into the Israeli Municipal school board.[2] Many chose to attend schools which are under the name of the Jerusalem school board, but function more like private schools. The municipality is responsible for salaries and building upkeep of these schools, but nothing more.[3] These schools tend to reside in Palestinian neighborhoods for the population they serve, and likewise with the Jewish institutions. A much higher dropout rate occurs in the Palestinian population after primary education – this is attributed to the lack of quality of secondary education in Palestinian schools. Very few Palestinians attend the Hebrew University. For these reasons Palestinians and Jews are unlikely to have any direct contact on the human level at a young age. This same discordant scenario occurs between the religious and secular communities in Jerusalem. Parents in Jerusalem have the option of sending their children Talmud and Torah schools or to the conventional municipal schools. A substantial amount of Jewish children aged 8-15 (near to 40 % of the Jewish population of this age)[4] attend religious schools and never come into contact with the secular population of Jerusalem. Knowledge received at these schools lacks any real practical application in the modern world, making it difficult for the religious communities to integrate into the rest of society. The byproduct is again a lack of knowledge and understanding of the other religious sect.

Infrastructure is the structural element which binds together communities and provides the framework for prosperous and wealthy communities. Transportation, communication and sanitation encourage growth and economic prosperity, serving to enhance the modern city. In contemporary Jerusalem, the infrastructure serves a dual purpose – to encourage growth and prosperity in certain communities, while stunting the growth and limiting the success of others.
Although all of Jerusalem has undergone massive growth since the 1967 annexation, there has been roughly a 9:1 ratio of public sector investment in the favor of the Jewish communities in the now unified city[1]. This allocation of funds has created a superb modern road system throughout western Jerusalem, linking the city center with outlying suburbs and institutions such as the Hebrew University, French Hill, Ramot, Gilo, etc. These large multilane roads allow the substantial population in the suburbs to commute easily to the economic and institutional center of West Jerusalem. These main traffic arteries cease to exist in the Southeast of the city, with the exception of the East Talpiot development. Instead of servicing areas of the Jerusalem which are predominantly Palestinian, the major traffic arteries tend to skirt around them and instead serve as rifts between these neighborhoods. This is clearly the case in the Sheik Jarrach site. A large roundabout to the northwest of the site and a large four way intersection to the northwest form an effective barrier of noise and traffic between the Jewish institutional areas to the north and on Mount Scopus, and also form a considerable obstacle between Palestinian communities. This obstacle takes the form of the substantial retaining walls which help elevate these intersections, and also Har Ha Zetim road. These walls reach as much as twenty feet in height in some places and must be completely circumnavigated by either detouring all the way around the north of the site, or through the rough paths that traverse it. It can also be noticed that the roadways servicing the University, Hospital, and French Hill beyond are considerably wider roads in much better condition. Wadi el Joz is serviced by a single lane paved road, as is the Sheik Jarrach neighborhood to the West. These neighborhoods are connected by no direct municipal route. The void in between Wadi el Joz and Sheik Jarrach, and also southwards towards the American Colony is a web of footpaths and carriage paths which serve to link the neighborhoods instead. Our site is part of this maze of pragmatism.

The increase in foot traffic at the site is also a product of the public transportation services in Jerusalem municipality. A quick examination of the Jerusalem transit map shows that the routes between Jewish neighborhoods are much better catered to than the Palestinian neighborhoods of East Jerusalem. The only transport services in any proximity to the site are the bus routes which skirt the site to the north as they ascend Mount Scopus to the Hebrew University or the Hospital and beyond to the French Hill settlement. The two principal roads that service the Palestinian neighborhoods (Wadi el Joz and Har Ha Zetim) have no scheduled bus routes. This lack of public transport is crippling to the Palestinians who have a much more limited use of personal motorized transport. The light rail line which has been proposed for the Jerusalem municipality also avoids Palestinian population centers.
[1]Marshall J. Breger and Ora Ahimeir, eds., Jerusalem: A City and Its Future, Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2002,, pg 26

The Sheikh Jarrach site is inundated with imagery as divisive and obstructive as the political and social realities surrounding it. Class division, economic disparity, and obstacles are well represented both within the site itself and in its immediate surroundings and horizons.
Studying the skylines of the immediate neighborhoods while standing within the site establishes a clear visual hierarchy. The Palestinian neighborhood of Sheik Jarrach to the West and South of the site is below the crest of the olive grove hill. Because of this, the facades of the residences and stores are not always visible – instead the roofs become the primary source of information that is read. The roofs are naturally unkempt and disheveled, as are the backyards and the yards in general. The residences are usually quite small and feature a pragmatic collection of refuse. Turning to the north, the hillsides of Mount Scopus and the French Hill come into view. Both these elevated neighborhoods are principally Jewish Institutional property as well as some residences and business. To the Northwest are Israeli government offices. The Regency Hotel comes next as one looks Eastwards, followed by a public sports-plex and then the Hebrew University. All of these buildings are much larger in scale than those in the Wadi Joz, and are finished in a polished limestone. The effects of both the elevated position and stone finish are quite severe. By being placed high on the mountain tops, the Jewish institutions take on a commanding presence as they surround the Sheik Jarrach area (this is a product of the Israeli policy of populating the high ground around Jerusalem to provide better defensive positions should another major conflict arise)[1]. The sheer limestone facades do not soften the impression left by the hilltop buildings, but reinforce their imposing and inaccessible presence. The forms of the buildings atop and leading up to the Hebrew University often take on a bunker-like form. The Regency hotel and the Public Sportsplex are constant reminders of Israel’s economic successes.
Closer to the site itself, there are further illustrations of segregation. Crossing the site from East to West or North to South, there are many literal barriers to travel and exchange. The Ministry of the Interior sits on the Western slope of the site, bordering on Wadi el Joz neighborhood. The Ministry of the Interior takes on the most militaristic appearance of all buildings on site. The building is massive, with the same polished limestone finish as the neighborhoods above. Many of the windows in the building are permanently shuttered for security reasons, and no one enters or leaves the building without being scrutinized by security cameras and equipment. The ministry itself is surrounded by a stone retaining wall topped by another 10 foot steel fence. It is built in to the side of the hill in a defensive stance and takes on a menacing appearance. The entrances to the site itself are obstructed by the same rock and steel wall system that protects the Ministry of the Interior. There is no Northern entrance to the site – instead, one must cross the 6 lane roadway before being blocked by a 20 foot retaining wall which forms a moat like trench at the northern end of the site. To navigate through the site, a pedestrian must travel south along Wadi el Joz and enter at the parking lot of the Ministry of the Interior before turning West and heading towards the intended destination. The path meanders through concrete rubble and blasted limestone – themselves an image of conflict. The path climbs upwards as it heads west, over some steep slopes topped by heaps of rubble stone. The only reprieve from these images of conflict and barrier is the olive grove to the South of the site. It rises above the rubble strewn area to the north and takes on the form of ordered rows of trees that stretch infinitely to the horizon (an illusion caused by the crest of the hill as it dips to the south). The area in between the olive trees is dotted with wildflowers and grasses, and is used by local Palestinians as a picnic ground. The growth and ordered symmetrical impartiality of the grove offer a reprieve from the hierarchal neighborhoods around it. This grove is visually the best opportunity in the site to eliminate barrier and confrontation and instead encourage some sort of communal activity.