The height of a mature plains cottonwood is fifty-five feet...remember this. When a proposal to build three high-rises at the mouth of Boulder Canyon hit the city council—the latest in a slew of efforts, some featuring three-hundred-foot skyscrapers—nobody could ignore the developers salivating to cash in on the growing city. These proposals stirred up fierce citizen-led resistance into what became a yearslong battle over the Boulder skyline and over the character of Boulder itself, culminating in a ballot measure that put the decision in the hands of the citizens themselves. When the dust finally settled, voters approved a maximum building height of—you guessed it—55 feet. The buildings would not rise above the trees.
The height restriction passed in 1971, capping off Boulder’s early commitment to the modern environmental movement. In 1959, citizens had approved the “blue line charter” prohibiting the delivery of city water to any buildings above 5,750 feet, preventing development in the foothills above town. Then, most famously, voters approved a one-percent sales tax in 1967 for the purchase of open space to maintain a greenbelt around the city.
The natural environment has always shaped Boulder's built environment. Development has always been contentious, pitted against its natural beauty and locals' appreciation for it. Yet as the population grows, the question remains: How can design meet these demands without compromising our local values?
If anyone can speak to this, it’s David Barrett of Barrett Studio Architects, who’s been designing in Boulder since 1977. Back then, his firm was called Sunflower Environmental Design Network. “I wanted to design something that was more about answers than just adding to the problem,” Barrett says, that problem being early signs of climate change, population growth, and the need for practical solutions. “The practice changed from doing these passive solar explorations to the idea of pedestrian pocket communities, putting density around nodal
centers, trying to push those limits but doing it very consciously.”
The need to accommodate a growing community has often butted heads with prior policies adopted to protect it. But politics and design have always gone hand in hand. One of Boulder’s most famous architects, Charles Haertling, served on the City Council for six years.
Following that tradition, Lauren Folkerts of HMH Architecture + Interiors currently sits on the City Council. For her, the direction forward always begins with what people care about. “In urbanism,” she says, “they talk about the things that break the grid of the city are the things that have the highest value to the community. If you think about an old European city, that’s often the church.” What should break the grid in Boulder? “Parks, probably,” Folkerts says.
The city is already making good on this. “A great example is the old Daily Camera building,” Folkerts says. “Part of what they did for their height exemption was promise the roof of that building as a public park. You can go have a picnic lunch up there with those gorgeous views. That’s public space.” (Author’s note: go up there.) Considering that Boulder’s values are footed upon the natural environment, it makes sense that open space be integrated throughout the city. But doing so requires the flexibility to adapt policy while honoring its intention—you want a height exemption, provide a public park.
Nick Fiore of Flower Architecture puts it like this: “Here’s the thing, man, you don’t have to get rid of the height limit everywhere. If you allow another two stories, maybe you do get a park because one of the buildings does go away. But that greenspace becomes a place where things can happen and people can gather.” For a community to thrive, that gathering space is exactly what we need.
Yet when you choose your solutions, you choose your problems. The key lies in pursuing development that sees beyond the bottom line, which means crafting policies that incentivize smaller local firms who understand Boulder’s values, not out-of-state developers strictly in it for profit. “Density is a necessity, but it’s got to be done in a responsible way, in a conscious way, in a community-based way,” David Barrett says. Which only happens when design comes from within the community.
Ultimately, like the height limit of 1971, these kinds of decisions are up to the people. Councilwoman Folkerts reminds us: “Boulder has a political process that allows for a lot of input from the community. This is a community that cares about having an open, transparent government and the ability to be involved in decision-making.”