Wednesday, May 23, 2018

The Railroad Comes to Stockholm



Red = current long-distance railroad lines into Stockholm.  Yellow = original trunk line from the south.  Dashed = tunnel.

Transport over land had historically never been Sweden’s strong suit.  From the Bronze Age through the Vikings to the medieval era and up to the mid 1800’s, waterways had always been the main transportation link.  Physical evidence of this phenomenon includes archeological remains from the Bronze Age which are almost always close to ancient waterlines, the Vikings’ worldwide dominance in boat technology and their settlements which were located along waterways, the early Church’s encouragement of road and bridge building in contrast to the heathen method of transport on the water, the waterside location of all noble and royal castles and palaces, and the absence of large towns located any distance from a major river, lake, or sea. 

Even the lack of certain technologies point to the dominance of water transport—until the Church was established in Sweden around 1000 AD, Vikings lacked the technology to span with stone, and the total absence of pre-Christian stone bridges alludes to the fact that Vikings didn’t need bridges.  If the Vikings had needed bridges, they surely would have imported the technology which would have been readily evident on their many widespread travels throughout continental Europe.  Not only is Sweden blessed with a long shoreline and an abundance of interconnected inland waterways, but the interior is covered in impenetrable forest and innumerable bogs, and distances between settlements was very long—all of which made transport over land very difficult.  Only when the ground was frozen and covered with transport-easing snow did any meaningful transport over land occur. 

Stockholm’s reliance on water transportation was historically even more pronounced since the city was built on a series of islands.  Over the course of modern history, long floating bridges and a few more permanent bridges spanned from landmass to landmass, but the long spans generally meant a shortage of bridges and that most trips over water were by rowboat; rowing passengers from shore to shore was a traditional livelihood for many of Stockholm’s impoverished women.  Only in the winter, when ice formed across all of the waterways, was Stockholm openly accessible by foot.
Despite global warming, Stockholm's waterways still ice over, but these days only for a few weeks or max two months.

Practically all goods were transported into Stockholm by boat as only the nearest of local farms were within range to transport goods to Stockholm by horse-drawn cart.  Additionally, nearly all long-distance travel was by boat—nobles sailed to their countryside palaces, diplomats arrived by boat, and seasonal laborers came and left the city during the ice-free months.  This complete reliance on boat transport meant that Stockholm was effectively closed off from the world by ice from November to April every year.  Very few goods or people traveled to or from Stockholm during the winter half of the year.

Compared with England, railroads arrived late in Sweden, but they profoundly changed the country.  The railroad opened up the country’s interior and it opened up Stockholm to the world during the winter. 

In my research, all the literature emphasizes that the railroad’s profound effect on Stockholm was this opening up of the city during the winter.  I agree that this must have had a tremendous effect on the city, not least of all economically, but I would argue that the railroad’s physical alteration of the city was just as or perhaps even more important.  But before I delve into the physical effects on the city, some history:

The Railroad in Sweden
The development of a national railroad system in Sweden was astonishingly swift.  It only took one or two failed attempts by private individuals and corporations to build a railway line before Parliament legislated (at the King’s behest) a nationalized system in 1853.  It was decided that the main trunk lines would be built by federal funds and that smaller, more local offshoots would be financed and run by local corporations with financial support from the government where deemed of national interest. 

It was also decided that since a well-established and functional network of seagoing infrastructure already existed, the new railroad infrastructure would be focused in the country’s interior.  These two fundamental strategies are still felt today as many seaside cities are still time-consuming or impossible to reach by train and as the high-speed routes between Sweden’s major cities are generally trafficked by the national train company SJ while most of the regional routes passing through secondary cities are generally trafficked by smaller transport companies.  

Only nine years after the first legislation, the  trunk line between Stockholm and Gothenburg was completed in 1862.  The trunk line between Stockholm and Malmö opened in 1864 and trunk lines heading north and west from Stockholm opened in stages starting in 1871.  The extraordinary speed at which these lines were built was in thanks to the huge national investment in the project—70% of the national budget was dedicated to railroad construction in the mid 1800’s.  Much of this money was loaned from Germany.  Sweden slowly payed off the loan until WWI when Germany’s inflation made the sum owed by Sweden a trifle, and Sweden was suddenly able to pay back the entire loan in a small lump sum.    
The extent of Sweden's railways by 1866.  The red trunk lines were publicly financed and run while the more local black and blue lines were privately funded and run.

Additionally, planning projects which today take decades to complete due to the national way of working through consensus building were then decided by single, powerful individuals or committees.  The government’s powers of expropriation were far stronger at the time, and large-scale infrastructure projects could be carried out immediately upon approval.    

The gigantic infrastructure project would never have been completed so swiftly if it weren’t for Nils Ericson who was appointed as project chief by the king in 1855.  Ericson, a proven canal-builder, hadn’t really wanted the post but he proved to be an efficient and dedicated engineer and administrator anyway.  Routes were rapidly scouted, mapped, designed, and built by Ericson’s teams, and they encountered very little or no interference at the national or local levels.  Everyone understood that the railroad was essential to the country’s future economic health, and any NIMBY (not in my back yard) protest that might have existed was too weak to be regarded seriously.

Strategies for the Railroad in Stockholm

While there was comparatively little debate about alternative routes for the national trunk lines, opinions were strong when different routes were being considered in Stockholm.  Two main questions seemed to have shaped the debate.  First, should the railroad follow Paris’s example with different stations at different sides of the city so that the city’s urban fabric could remain intact?  Or should the trunk lines north, south, and west of the city be connected at a central station, regardless of the damage such an intrusion would incur in the city’s fabric? 

The second question was if the railroad should connect to any of the city’s saltwater ports.  The national strategy was to concentrate the new railroad infrastructure to the country’s interior, and all the trunk lines fed into the city from the freshwater side of the city, but wouldn’t it be strategically limiting if the railroad and the shipping industry never connected?

Nils Ericson and the city had opposite opinions regarding the first question of several decentralized stations vs. a single central station.  The city was of the opinion that a central station was unnecessary and that the intrusion of a railroad in the central parts of the city would cause too much damage.  Ericson believed in a central station, but the city temporarily won out.  It was decided that the trunk lines would terminate at a northern and a southern station, and that the railroad would not continue into downtown Stockholm.  However, Ericson saw this as a short-term solution and he placed the northern and southern stations in such a way that a future connection through downtown could be built. 

It didn’t take long for the debate on a sammanbindningsbana or “connecting together track” and central station to be renewed; Ericson’s vision of the various trunk lines connecting in central Stockholm was realized in 1871, just 9 years after the first trunk line opened.

Ericson won the debate on the second question regarding a railroad connection to one of the city’s saltwater ports—he didn’t believe that the connection was necessary, and all of his proposed stations were concentrated on the freshwater side of the city.  Once the mainlines from the south and from the north were in place, smaller connecting lines were inevitably built connecting to the city’s various saltwater ports at Stadsgården, Tegelviken, Danvikstull, Hammarby Canal, and Söder Mälarstrand on Södermalm; Skeppsbron at Gamla Stan; and Värtahamnen on the mainland.  These lines were exclusively used for cargo except for Värtahamnen which was a large workplace and ferry terminal relatively far out of the city.       

The Southern Trunk Line and Southern Station
Coming from Göteborg to the south, the southern trunk line’s last stop before entering Stockholm proper was Liljeholmen (map 1).  Because land was relatively scarce in Stockholm proper, much of the railroad employee housing, storage, and train car and engine maintenance buildings were placed just outside of the city in Liljeholmen.  A large candle factory was already located at the water’s edge in Liljeholmen, but the railroad drew many more industries to the area.   
Liljeholmen's railroad history is still visible.

The Southern trunk line entered Stockholm from Liljeholmen over a man-made embankment (map 2) over the Årsta Bay and to the island of Södermalm.  A narrow channel through the middle of the embankment allowed for water to still flow from one side to the other and a swing bridge allowed for boat traffic.  This was a relatively easy approach—although the embankment across the bay turned out to be an enormous amount of work requiring enormous amounts of fill, very little blasting was required on Södermalm for the route.  
Part of the original railroad embankment from Liljeholmen to Södermalm still exists; it is used as a boat dock.

From Årsta Bay, the tracks crossed farmland and followed a natural valley into the interior of the island (map 3).  
The railway originally went through Tanto
From Tanto toward the interior of the island.  When Ringvägen was built, a bridge was built so that the road could cross over the tracks.
This valley had historically been a creek draining the two small lakes of Fatburen and Zinkensdamm.  These two lakes had throughout history become smaller and smaller and more and more disgusting since nearby inhabitants used the lakes as garbage and outhouse dumps.  It had been known for a couple of centuries that serious health problems stemmed from Fatburen’s sludge, and residents frequently lobbied the city to do something about the problem.  However, the area was traditionally poor and the cash-strapped city always prioritized expenditures in fancier neighborhoods.  It wasn’t until the land was needed for the Southern Station that Fatburen was drained.  (This story closely mirrors Nybroviken’s history.) 
Maria Bangata is now a walking and biking path, but it was the original railway through central Södermalm.

The draining of Fatburen Lake provided a large, unbuilt area for the Southern Station (map 4) which consisted of a station building, a house for the Station Chief (map 5) and another for the Track Master, a hotel, and a host of industrial sheds for the handling of goods.  
The Station Chief's dwelling is the only surviving structure from the original Stockholm Southern Station area.
This area was known as Södra Bantorget or “Southern Railway Square” (map 4). Because Ericson was convinced that a central station would soon be built in Stockholm, the Southern Station building was built as a temporary building in wood rather than as a grand station in brick.
Stockholm Södra Station in the 1860's.
While the Southern Station was built to be temporary, the stonework lining the sunken tracks was meant to last.
 
Taking advantage of the new transportation link, industries and warehouses of all kinds soon replaced the farmland along the tracks.  
Neuhaus's map of Stockholm from 1870.  Stockholm Södra station is still on the edge of farmland.

In 1871, the rail link connecting the Southern Station to the Central Station was completed, but due to the convenience of the Southern Station as both a passenger and goods terminus, the Southern Station area was not immediately demolished as Ericson had originally planned.  Instead, tracks and station remained relatively unchanged until the 1920’s.

Until around WWI, all sea traffic between the saltwater Baltic Sea and the freshwater Mälaren Lake was funneled through the lock at Slussen (map 6).  For many reasons, not least of which was inconvenience to train traffic which was required to halt every time a boat came through the lock, it was decided that a better solution was needed.  It was decided in 1914 to build a bigger lock with more capacity through Skanstull (map 7).  Now that the majority of boat traffic would be routed south of Södermalm, the small, slow swing bridge at the embankment from Liljeholmen to Södermalm was no longer sufficient to keep both boat and train traffic in motion. 

The southern trunk line was thus rerouted and a tall, modern bridge was built over the Årsta islands (map 8) to Södermalm.  This bridge, Årstabron, opened in 1929.  Most boat traffic could now pass under the Årsta Bridge without disturbing train traffic, but the middle section of the bridge could be raised to accommodate extra tall ships.  (A parallel bridge over the Årsta islands opened last year so that the commuter rail now has its own tracks.  This was a part of a huge infrastructure project known as Citybanan that I’ll cover eventually.)        

The southern trunk line now bypassed the facilities at Liljeholmen, and over time most of the railroad-related buildings were demolished, though the tracks were still used by the local industries until the early 2010’s.  Today, although a few industries are still located in the area, most of the formerly industrial area has been rebuilt as apartments and offices.  A small portion of the tracks is still used for the new Tvärbana tramline which opened in 2000, but most of the other evidence of railroad activity is sure to be demolished in the near future.  
The Tvärbana tram uses some of Liljeholmen's original tracks.

Much of Liljeholmen’s railroad activity—maintenance, the handling of cargo, warehouses, etc—was replaced by newer, bigger facilites at Årstaberg, just south of the Årsta Bridge.  Cargo transfers and warehouses are still quite visible at Årstaberg.  Once this area was outside of town, but today, it is a vast no-man's land in the middle of the city.  
Årstaberg cargo terminus today

The embankment over Årsta Bay was also demolished though a small section on the Södermalm side remains and is now used as a dock for small, private boats. 

On Södermalm, the tracks were re-routed to the east to connect up the new Årsta Bridge with the Southern Station and the track to the Central Station. 
From Årsta Bridge toward Stockholm Southern Station.
From Årsta Bridge toward Stockholm Southern Station.  In the 1980's and 90's, the tracks were covered over by housing developments, some of which are unfortunately very ugly.
With time, even the new route was lined with factories and warehouses, with the exception of the western side of the track at the recently established Tanto Park (map 3) (more on Tanto Park in a future post...).  Most of these industrial buildings were demolished in the 1980’s and 90’s but a few such as the Luth and Roséns Electrical company’s buildings (Södermalmsallen 12) 
and the Konsumentföreningen’s warehouse and production facility for deli goods remain.

The original route through Tanto to the Southern Station was demolished, and over time the city fabric surrounding the tracks was also demolished and the land was rebuilt with apartment buildings in the 1960’s.  
Apartments built on the edge of Tanto Park.
Many of the factories further inland closed and the land was reused to build apartment buildings in the 1980’s.  However, a few industrial buildings such as the Tobacco Monopoly, now converted into apartments and offices, remain.  In the 1990’s, the old rail bed was converted into a wa.king and biking trail.
Tobaksmonopolet or Tobacco Monopoly, walking/biking trail in the old rail bed to the left.

The original Southern Station remained in use for passenger and goods traffic until 1926 when it was demolished in favor of a new station a bit farther west.  The newer station was better situated for both the link to the Central Station as well as for the rerouted southern trunk line over the Årsta Bridge.  This newer Southern Station was in use until 1970 when it was demolished.   Only the Track Master Residence remains of the original station, and the original station area at Södra Bantorget became in time Medborgarplatsen or “Citizen Square” with a new community center with indoor swimming pools, a theater, and a library which was built in 1939.    
Medborgarplatsen


The entire Southern Station area (map 9) was re-envisioned in the 1990’s.  I will cover this in more detail in a future post, but the gist of it was that the mostly abandoned industrial area was demolished, the railway was covered over, and the entire area was rebuilt with apartment and office buildings.  The Stockholm South station (or Stockholm Södra) is still in use as a commuter rail station today.   
The Stockholm Södra development from the 1990's was built over the tracks.  Now the railroad is mostly hidden from view (left), but a few openings for ventilation as well as some abnormally hefty structural elements give away the railway's location (right).
  
The Northern Trunk Line and Northern Station
The Northern Trunk Line truncated Karlbergs Slott’s garden (map 10) and approaches the city on a combination of “reclaimed” swampy land and new infill along the edge of what was formerly known as Klara Lake.  Today, the body of water has been so encroached on by the train tracks that it is known as Klara Canal (map 11).  
Klara Canal

Stockholm North Station opened in 1866, but like the Southern Station, Nils Ericson didn’t invest in a grand station house since he was convinced that the Northern Station would be temporary.  Instead, an existing wooden building was appropriated for the use.  Auxiliary buildings such as a train car shed and a coal shed were built in such a cheap and temporary manner that they weren’t even given foundations.  Given the swampy nature of the land, they sunk immediately when filled with train cars and coal. 

The open area at the station became known as Norra Bantorget or Northern Rail Square (map 12).  Even though the railroad function is long since gone, the square retains the name today.  In contrast to Medborgarplatsen at the Southern Station, Norra Bantorget has not been paved over and remains a green park.      
Norra Bantorget

Unlike the Southern Station, the Northern Station lost its station status once the Central Station (map 13) opened in 1871.  Being only a couple of blocks from the Central Station, the Northern Station became the cargo station.  The original temporary buildings were quickly replaced and in 1893 the railroad invested in a brick cargo office building.  This office is one of the few early railroad-related buildings still standing in Stockholm; today it is still used as office space. 
Northern cargo office building at Lilla Bantorget

Both sides of the railroad tracks were once lined with copious numbers of industrial buildings.  Sheds and warehouses for the handling and storage of cargo were abundant.  Fruit, vegetable, and meat markets were established to take advantage of the fresh produce and meat.  There were a number of service buildings for train cars and engines.  The raw, industrial nature of the areas surrounding the railroad tracks was apparent well into the 1960’s when wide roads replaced the warehouses and sheds.  
Infrastructure along Klara Canal

The tide of overzealous road building turned in the 1980’s and 1990’s when the uber-central location of the roads and railroad tracks around the Central Station began to be re-envisioned into offices, conference centers, hotels, apartment buildings, and a bus terminal.  Slowly but surely, the highways and railroad tracks are being placed in tunnels and the real estate is being developed into a cityscape.  The next phase under investigation involves decking over the entire Central Station area, creating workplaces for 20,000-50,000 people.     
Left: This former railroad area (to the right in the image) was built out as housing in the 1990's.  Right: The entire area in orange is slated to be built over soon.  The railroad tracks will remain, but they will no longer be open-air.

The Wasp’s Waist 

Ericson was correct and the northern and southern trunk lines were almost immediately connected through downtown to a Central Station (map 13).  What he didn’t correctly predict was that the Southern and Northern Stations would live on for many decades—Stockholm Södra is still a commuter train stop and Stockholm Norra was used for cargo at least until the 1920’s. 
These drawings from 1870 shows the Sammanbindningsbanan's route and section.

From the Southern Station area (map 4), a tunnel was dug through the granite bedrock under the existing city fabric out to the water’s edge at Slussen (map 6).  This was, according to me, the most sensitively executed section of the sammanbindningsbana or "connecting together track."  However, this "sensitivity" was due more to topographical issues than to a desire to preserve the existing city fabric. 
Tunnel from Stockholm Southern Station toward Lake Mälaren.
A bridge over Lake Mälaren from Södermalm to the canal between the islands of Riddarholmen (map 14) and Stadsholmen (map 15) was then built to carry the tracks.  The bridge originally had an opening in the middle so that boat traffic could pass by, but this need was muted when the lock at Skanstull and the Årsta Bridge was built.  
Southern Centralbron between Södermalm and Riddarholmen
The tracks between Riddarholmen and Stadsholmen are known as the Gettingmidjan or Wasp’s Waist because while tunnels and bridges can be expanded, laying additional tracks here is impossible without destroying 800 year-old buildings.  Now, only a very narrow and desolate canal known as Riddarholmskanalen separates the two islands. 
Wasp's Waist (Gettingmidjan) between the islands of Riddarholmen and Stadsholmen (Gamla Stan).

From the Wasp’s Waist, another bridge connects the tracks to the mainland at Tegelbacken (map 16).  This bridge also had a section that opened for boat traffic.  
Northern Centralbron between Riddarholmen and Tegelbacken.
From Slussen to Tegelbacken, the series of bridges over Lake Mälaren and between the islands of Riddarholmen and Stadsholmen is collectively known as Centralbron or Central Bridge (map 17).   

The tracks at Tegelbacken were at street level until 1948 when traffic chaos forced planners to find another solution, and the street and tramline was dug under the train tracks.  
Cyclists, pedestrians, and local traffic go under while trains, the subway, and the highway go over. 
Originally, there was a verdant park, Järnvägsparken or Rail Road Park (map 18), between Tegelbacken and the Central Station.  Most of the park was taken over by the highway in 1946 and in the 1950’s, the remaining trees and bushes were destroyed for subway construction.  The park was never replanted and today it is a sad leftover space despite a recent attempt to spruce it up with new cobblestones and a new sculpture.  It takes more to create a park under a highway than cobblestones, a few trees, and a sculpture. 
Sad, sad Järnvägsparken

The extension of the railroad from the Northern Station to the Central Station was much more straightforward than at Stockholm Southern.  Up north, the tracks were merely extended past the original station.  As additional tracks were needed to increase capacity for cargo and passenger traffic, more and more land was built out into Klara Lake to accommodate them. 
  
There was considerable debate and protest about the brutal way that the Southern trunk line was connected to the Central Station.  Parliament was at first against the link for several reasons: the cost wasn’t justifiable since it the southern and northern stations were within walking distance of each other, boat traffic would be hampered, and the city’s beautiful waterways were at stake.  While few relished the idea of Centralbron, the idea quickly won traction and funding.  As far as I can tell, no serious alternatives to Centralbron were ever discussed.    

Stockholm Central Station
I’ve mentioned above that both the Southern and the Northern Stations were by design less than impressive.  In contrast, no expenses were spared on Stockholm Central Station (map 13).  The station was so large that it was only exceeded in size by the Royal Palace which has 1430 rooms.  
Stockholm Central, exterior
Stockholm Central was designed by Chief Railroad Station Architect Edelsvärd in the Neo-Renaissance style and it opened in 1871.  The facade was originally more decorated with statues but it was streamlined in the 1950’s and much of the sculpture was removed.
The original Stockholm Central Station, interior.

Today, it’s hard to imagine that the original Central Station seemed so huge because these days it feels like a mere vestibule to the “real” station.  In the 1920’s, the train hall was demolished and replaced by a huge waiting hall—although the giant waiting room is designed to look like a train hall, it never actually had trains under its roof.  
Stockholm Central's waiting hall from the 1920's
The waiting hall is decorated with National Romantic wall paintings which depict destinations from Southern to Northern Sweden which can be reached by train. 
Both Vadstena Castle and the Swedish mountains can be reached by train.

The next big change came in the 1950’s when the station’s basement was dug out to accommodate a pedestrian tunnel to safely reach all of the tracks as well as a new central subway station.  A hole was cut out of the waiting hall floor to visually connect the pedestrian tunnel.    
Stockholm Central Station--hole connecting the waiting hall with the subway entrance level.

In the 1960’s, Stockholm’s commuter rail network was expanded.  The commuter rail trains used the same tracks and platforms as the long distance trains, but a new commuter station entrance was built on the west side of the Central Station.  This entrance is much higher than the main station entrance because it connects to a large road which crosses over the railroad tracks.  
Stockholm Central Station commuter train station entrance

In the 1980’s a huge office and conference center known as Stockholm’s World Trade Center was built over the tracks.  The bottom level of the World Trade Center is a huge long-distance bus terminal that connects underground to the Central Station.  
Left: From the street, the World Trade Center looks like the office and conference center that it is.  Right: Only from the side along the train tracks can you see the building's bus station.
With the completion of the bus station, Stockholm Central became the junction not only for trains but also for the subway system, the commuter train network, and long distance buses.      
The interior of Cityterminalen, Stockholm's long distance bus station.  Sure beats the average Greyhound station!

Physical and Lasting Effects of the Railroad in Stockholm  
As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, Stockholm had been completely reliant on ice-prone waters for freight and passenger transportation before the railroad.  The railroad opened up access to Stockholm year-round and even gave Stockholm access to inland Sweden.  This was a profound change for Stockholm, but I think that the railroad spearheaded and represented several other equally important changes in the city’s landscape.

First of all, the railroad represents a shift in how different parts of the city were accessed.  Before the railroad, an extensive network of rowboats for shorter trips and steamboats for longer routes connected the various islands and mainland peninsulas of the city.  With the railroad, transportation began to be more land-based.  Suddenly, waterways were no longer a barrier, and one could board and alight public transportation in the middle of a landmass.  The water’s edges lost their roll as “stations.” 
The Roddardamerna, or Rowing Ladies

As the “stations” disappeared from the waterfront, it was no longer important for pedestrians to be able to easily access the shoreline.  With the railroad, the waterfront began to be taken over by transportation infrastructure.  In an effort to keep as much of the city fabric intact as possible, the trunk lines were placed on infilled land at the water’s edge.  This trend continued during the 1950’s to 70’s as more and more larger and larger roads were built along the shore on what used to be water.  The waterfront no longer belonged to people and pedestrians but to trains, cars, and infrastructure.   
The railroad set the precedent for infrastructure at the water's edge.

The railroad also set the precedent for Stockholm that cheaper, easier infrastructure solutions were more important than preserving the city’s beautiful panorama.  Cheaper, easier infrastructure solutions were also more important than pedestrians’ convenience as the ever-expanding railroads and highways became major barriers and inconveniences in the cityscape.  Noise and air pollution were accepted as necessary evils.  Infrastructure was allowed to infiltrate and dominate the pedestrian’s experience of the city. 
The railroad set the precedent that it is ok for infrastructure to change and dominate the cityscape, even in historic areas.

Additionally, the railroad set a precedent of blasting through bedrock.  Inconvenient hills and cliffs that had been negotiated for centuries were simply dynamited away so that the tracks could be laid at the right gradient.  Geography was no longer a major determinant in the development of the city—instead the land became clay which planners molded to their own needs.  Yes, Stockholmers had been lightly altering the geography to suit their needs for centuries by “reclaiming” land at the water’s edge and by chipping away at troublesome ridges, but these changes had been slow and incremental and relatively localized.  With the railroad, geography began to be altered at a literally explosive rate and extent for the sole purpose of transportation.  Again, cheap, convenient infrastructure trumped respect for the city or for the land.
The railroad set the precedent that blasting through the bedrock is an acceptable solution to geographical hinders.

Railroads brought a new speed into life, and dynamite brought a new rate of change to the city.  Historically, extensive changes in the cityscape took centuries to complete so that one generation hardly noticed the difference.  Suddenly, the entire city was significantly altered within a decade. 

The railroad also brought a new scale to the cityscape.  Before the railroad, the city’s only “larger than life” structures symbolized the Crown and the Church.  The railroad, with its gigantic Central Station, its lofty bridges, and its miles-long embankments was the first profane structure to overshadow human scale to an almost dehumanizing extent.  The pedestrian human ceased to be the scale figure which city planning was based upon; not only would structures and infrastructure begin to dominate the cityscape, but distances would now be framed in terms of railroad velocity instead of the pace of a pedestrian or horse.
The Årsta Bridges clearly demonstrate the scale of the 1700's vs. the scale of the early 1900's.

And these changes spurred by the railroad are still visible and physical presences in today’s cityscape.  The changes didn’t take long to complete, but like the toll fences, many of the boundaries created by the railroad are still unreconciled.  In addition, large swaths of land along Klara Canal and at Liljeholmen and Årstaberg became wastelands of cargo infrastructure, completely inaccessible to pedestrians or to city development.  150 years later, the wasteland at Liljeholmen and along Klara Canal are slowly being healed over, but Årstaberg remains inhospitable.     
The cargo wasteland at Årstaberg.
   
While I firmly believe that the railroad’s storming of Stockholm resulted in many negative and unfortunate infrastructure decisions and additionally set the precedent for countless negative decisions in the future, I still love the railroad.  I love the romance of traveling by railroad, I love the ease and convenience of traveling by railroad, I love how safe the railroad is in comparison to other modes of transport, I love how environmentally sustainable rail travel is.  But most of all, I love the railroad for how it, in comparison to highways, encourages city density and public-transportation-oriented planning.  Ironically, the railroad saved the city and the railroad’s subway and commuter-train offspring make the city livable. 

So while I don’t wish away the railroad, I do wish that it had been a bit more respectfully inserted into Stockholm’s cityscape.  Like entirely in tunnels! 

Sources:

Lars Berggrund and Sven Bårström, De första stambanorna: Nils Ericsons storverk (2014)
Hans Björkman and Gert Ekström, Stockholms järnvägar: Miljöer från förr och nu, Volume 1. Västra Stambanan (2011)
Hans Björkman and Gert Ekström, Stockholms järnvägar: Miljöer från förr och nu, Volume 2. Centralstationen och Norra Stambanan (2012)
https://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatburen_(byggnad)
https://www.amffastigheter.se/omraden/stockholm/stockholmsverken/trumman-2/

Images: 
All of the images are my own except
Sweden’s railways 1866: Gunilla Linde Bjur and Krister Engström, Stationshus: Järnvägsarkitektur i Sverige (2010)
Stockholm Södra: Hans Björkman and Gert Ekström, Stockholms järnvägar: Miljöer från förr och nu, Volume 1. Västra Stambanan (2011)
Neuhaus karta: https://stockholmskallan.stockholm.se/post/19488
Sammanbindningsbana drawings: https://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sammanbindningsbanan_(j%C3%A4rnv%C3%A4g)#/media/File:Sammanbindningsbanan_karta_1870.jpg
Central Station rebuild diagram: https://www.svd.se/sa-kan-ny-stadsdel-vid-centralen-se-ut
Roddarmadamerna: https://stockholmskallan.stockholm.se/post/19546

Monday, November 27, 2017

Threats to Stockholm’s Old Town, Gamla Stan

 
It’s hard to believe today, but the historic center of Stockholm, Gamla Stan, was once slated to be razed, and it was only saved due to the high cost of demolition.  At the time, in the mid 1800’s, demolishing Gamla Stan was a given—plans to flatten the “unsanitary slum” were praised as being modern and forward thinking.  It wasn’t until the turn of the century that opposition began to be raised, questioning the wisdom of demolishing Stockholm’s irreplaceable historic core.
Not worth keeping according to 19th century Stockholmers.

Justifications
Gamla Stan was, in part, an unsanitary slum.  Stockholm was one of Europe’s unhealthiest cities, and more people died every year in Stockholm than were born.  A third of all infants died in their first year.  Only a constant stream of immigration from the countryside to the city kept the city’s population steady.  The main cause of sickness and death was polluted water due to the lack of a sewage system, organized trash collection, or checks on industrial contamination.  The unhealthy conditions that prevailed over all of Stockholm were aggravated in the dense city center where access to light, air circulation, and clean water was a luxury.

Not only was Gamla Stan an unhealthy area, but it was also unkempt and ramshackle.  Many of Gamla Stan’s buildings were in dire need of renovation, but there was little to encourage building owners to update their buildings.  Because the buildings were old-fashioned both in style and in function, mere renovation seemed a cosmetic fix to a deeper problem.  A constant housing shortage ensured that landlords had a market for their apartments regardless of their appalling condition.  Gamla Stan was still the center of Stockholm’s commerce, so renting out commercial spaces wasn’t problematic either. 

Because of its centralized location and because the Royal Palace (map 1) was located on the island, Gamla Stan had historically been the home of wealthy merchants and the nobility.  But as Gamla Stan deteriorated and as Stockholm expanded beyond the island, the wealthier families began to leave the center for more savory conditions elsewhere in the city.  Gamla Stan became the home of the poor, and apartments were subdivided, and subdivided again.  To further maximize rentable square footage, shacks were built in the courtyards until only airshafts were left between buildings.  Gamla Stan was known for prostitution and for crime.  Even worse in the eyes of the bourgeoisie, Gamla Stan was also (correctly) considered to be the breeding ground of “shameful” socialism.  

Additionally, brothels and jerry-built shacks were hardly fitting neighbors for the king.  Ramshackle neighborhoods were not the grandiose and respect-inducing impression that officialdom wanted to present to visiting bureaucrats and representatives of Europe’s royal houses.
The East and West facades of Stockholm's Royal Palace

Another motivation for razing of Gamla Stan was the inadequate accommodations for the growing national ministries.  At the time, it was still a given that the various ministries would be located near the Royal Palace, and the historic building stock of the Old Town seriously limited the ministries’ function and size. 

Similarly, the Old Town’s narrow streets were insufficient for “modern” quantities of traffic.  There was no wide thoroughfare through Gamla Stan leading from Norrmalm (map 12)to the north to Södermalm (map 13) to the south.
Gamla Stan's streets were considered to be too narrow and a hindrance to modern traffic.

Still to this day, this very formula of unsanitary conditions, deteriorated buildings, and unsavory elements is the justification and reasoning behind urban renewal.  Stockholm was certainly not the first to use this trinity of sins to justify its plans to raze the urban historic core and to replace it with a modern city; Haussmann’s Paris was much admired by Stockholm’s planers, and one city official openly wished to be remembered as Stockholm’s Haussmann.  Even after Gamla Stan was eventually spared demolition, the very same formula was used to justify the demolition of thousands of historic buildings just beyond Gamla Stan’s shoreline in the 1950’s and 60’s.  Today, identical arguments are used to “renew” underutilized areas of Malmö and Göteborg.  Plans to raze Gamla Stan seem ridiculous and laughable today, but at the time, demolishing the area was considered to be the only sensible course of action.  

Early Proposals
The fact that there were multiple plans throughout the 1800’s to raze Gamla Stan, and that they were taken seriously by the city government and praised in the press, shows that the demolition and replacement of the historic core was not a one-off idea that can be dismissed as the whim of a crazy idealist.  Indeed, in the nineteenth century, the razing of Gamla Stan was not a question of if, but when.

The first to put forth a concrete plan to do something about Gamla Stan was railroad magnate von Rosen together with architect Chiewitz in 1846 who proposed replacing Västerlånggatan (map 2) with a wider street and a centrally placed square.  Uniform facades for the new buildings lining Västerlånggatan were also proposed, but the drawings do not survive.

Around 1850, artist Mandelgren put forth a proposal to beautify Gamla Stan’s central square, Stortorget (map 3). 
Some of Stortorget's buildings were already "Flemish" in style but apparently the neoclassical facades were not up to snuff.
The square was to be elongated by demolishing several blocks between the square and the Gothic Tyska kyrkan, or German Church.  The Gothic spire would mark the end of the axis.  The buildings lining the square were to be given Flemish stepped-gable facades with an arcaded story at street level.  The Neoclassical well from the 1700’s was to be replaced by a Neo-Gothic structure.  Mandelgren’s proposal highlights how the relatively simple Classical stucco facades of the 1700’s had fallen out of favor to the preference for more medieval styles which were still visible in the fabric of Continental cities.  This proposal is less about modernizing Gamla Stan than about "beautifying" it and creating an irresistible historical center that would be the match anything in Germany.
Mandelgren's sketch for the expanded square *

In 1850, a group of railroad magnates, architects, and engineers founded a periodical called Tidskrift för prakisk byggnadskonst och mekanik or Periodical for Practical Building-Arts and Mechanics.  This periodical was filled with articles propagandizing for better air quality in cities and the need to rebuild Stockholm.  In 1853, the widely-read magazine put forth a concrete proposal for the redesign of Stockholm:  First, Gamla Stan should be completely rebuilt with modern, wide streets and regular plots.  Secondly, outer areas of the city already had sufficiently wide streets, but there, the relationship of building height and street width must be regulated to ensure proper air circulation.

Because the beautification and modernization of the capitol was considered a national and not just a local issue, Parliament took up the question of modernizing Gamla Stan in 1857.  The proposal was to tear down Gamla Stan’s inner blocks and to replace them with a wide street from the Royal Palace (map 1) to the island’s southern tip at Slussen (map 4).  This new, modern street would be lined by new ministries such as the National Archive and the National Post Office.  The press gushed praise at the proposal—not only would Stockholm be beautified, but it would become a physically and morally healthier city.   
Törnqvist's proposal for a new National Archive from 1853 *

Rudberg’s Proposal
The first comprehensive plan to demolish and rebuild nearly all of Gamla Stan in one fell swoop was put forth by engineer Schwabitz and architect Rudberg in 1859.  Other issues were at the forefront at the city planning office, so the proposal was ignored.  However, Rudberg refused to give up and he published, at his own expense, the slightly reworked proposal in book format in 1862.
Schwabitz and Rudberg's proposal from 1859 *

Rudberg’s proposal was that nearly the entire island was to be leveled.  The few gridded blocks built after the fire of 1625 on the western side of Gamla Stan (map 19) were allowed to remain since those streets had already been widened in conjunction with rebuilding after the fire.  These regularized blocks served as the scale and pattern which Rudberg repeated across the rest of the island.  Additionally, the Royal Palace (map 1), the island’s two largest and most historic churches (map 5), the Stock Market (map 6), and Riddarhuset (Knight’s House, seat of Sweden’s nobility since 1641) (map 7) were allowed to remain.  But everything else was to be razed and replaced by uniform, four-story high blocks punctuated by civic buildings such as a National Archive, a Ministry of Commerce, and Parliament.  Rudberg comments that it is a shame that certain historic buildings such as Tessin’s Palace (map 8) must be demolished, 
Tessin's Palace and garden, to be demolished according to Rudberg's proposal.
but he writes that “the interest for that which is old and ancient must give way to higher requirements.”  Rudberg also wrote that Gamla Stan “is a leftover from the Middle Age’s barbaric way of life...”
Rudberg's proposal from 1862 *

The proposal includes a new bridge connecting Gamla Stan with Norrmalm (map 12) over the island of Helgandsholmen (map 9), but a clear north-south main street is lacking.  Indeed, while Rudberg’s proposed streets were wider than Gamla Stan’s alleys, they were in fact quite modest and not even as wide as the streets of Norrmalm.  Rudberg's streets were, after all, modeled on two-hundred-year-old streets!  The mid-block courtyards would be little more than narrow light wells.  Central Stortorget (map 3) is allowed to remain, but other squares were wiped out.  Instead, a new square along the Skeppsbron waterfront was proposed.
Skeppsbron, Stockholm's historic skyline as seen on approach from the water, was to be demolished according to Rudberg's proposal.

While proposing to destroy a key part of Sweden’s history, Rudberg simultaneously gives tribute to it as he named the blocks after Nordic gods and the streets after key figures of Sweden’s history such as King Gustav Vasa, poet Tegner, and scientist Linné.  This reminds me of suburban cul-de-sac developments in the US which are often named for the forests or farms they supplant.         

Rudberg’s proposal encompassed not only Gamla Stan, but the two adjacent islands of Riddarholmen (map 10) and Helgandsholmen (map 9).  Riddarholmen’s building stock of historic palaces was allowed to remain and to be used for governmental ministries, but the island was to be encircled by new, wide quays.   A variant of this was eventually built.
On Helgandsholmen, the park at Strömparterren (map 11) was to be extended across the entire island, requiring the flattening of a number of historic palaces.
Rudberg's drawings showing the then-current chaotic jumble of buildings on Helgandsholmen as juxtaposed to the calm peacefulness of his proposed park. *

This idea of extending Strömparterren across all of Hegandsholmen is a good example of how Rudberg completely ignored existing topography in his proposal.  Strömparterren is at least two stories below street level, but Rudberg makes no provision of how the topography of the island was to be negotiated. 
Rudberg similarly ignores topographic realities on Gamla Stan.  His proposal is not only to flatten Gamla Stan’s buildings, but even to flatten the island’s considerable topography.  This meant that the remaining historical buildings such as the churches and the Stock Market, which sit on the island’s highest ridge, would be reached by monumental staircases.  However, Rudberg does not delineate the space needed for such monumental staircases on his plan.       

There was no altruistic social agenda behind Rudberg’s proposal—the point was not to give the poor better housing conditions; instead, the poor were to be moved to the outskirts of town, where they would have access to land for kitchen gardens.  The new Gamla Stan was to be inhabited by the clean and morally sound middle class.

Both the press and the public praised Rudberg’s proposal.  The proposal was also seriously considered by the city planning authority which was headed by Bildt.  Bildt had previously publicly stated that his ambition was to be Stockholm’s Haussmann, and this proposal was well in keeping with Haussmann’s ideals.  In 1863, Bildt formed a commission headed by Wallström and Rudberg to create a comprehensive plan for all of Stockholm.  However, the commission was to leave out Gamla Stan—despite Rudberg’s detailed cost estimates which showed otherwise, it would just be too expensive to do anything about Gamla Stan, even if it was desirable.  Gamla Stan was a problem that would have to wait until a future date.  (Interestingly, leaving Gamla Stan out of modern planning strategies had a more than 200 year old history at this date—Stockholm’s earliest urban plan similarly ignored the densely built-up and expensive-to-deal with center of the city.)  

Wallström and Rudberg’s plan for greater Stockholm was severely criticized by the reviewing committee (which was not incidentally headed by Lindhagen, more about him in a later post) and thus forgotten.  Tragically, Rudberg had literally given his all to his proposals—not long after his plan for Stockholm was so severely criticized, he declared bankruptcy and died of exhaustion.         

Later Proposals
In 1874, City Engineer Brodin with architect Kumlien and Lieutenant Ryding drew up another proposal that was similar in scope to Rudberg’s with the exception of Riddarholmen and Helgandsholmen.   Brodin’s proposal paid a bit more attention to existing topography, however, and the proposed new streets were more generously proportioned.  The considerable costs of the project would be offset by making the blocks five stories instead of Rudberg’s four stories.  The creators defend the destruction of Gamla Stan saying that “nothing of architectonic worth will be lost.”  In this proposal, Tessin’s Palace (map 8) was allowed to remain, but the garden would have to be demolished to make way for a new street.  Because the city planning office was busy with plans for other areas of Stockholm, Brodin’s proposal was archived without much discussion.
Brodin's proposal from 1874 *

The city’s plans for greater Stockholm left Gamla Stan in the limelight, but the central historic district was still affected in some discussions around the planning of bridges.  For example, one bridge from Norrmalm (map 12) to Gamla Stan was proposed that would bring a roadway through “Riddarhuset’s [map 7] unusually wide vestibule” according to architect Ekman’s 1872 proposal. 
Riddarhuset, thankfully without a roadway piercing through its middle.
Ekman's 1872 drawing showing a new roadway cutting through Riddarhuset's vestibule. *

Throughout the 1880’s, record numbers of apartments were built in Norrmalm (map 12), Södermalm (map 13), Östermalm, and on Kungsholmen.  The pressure on Gamla Stan began to lessen and its population began to slowly decline.  In 1886 and again in 1888, Commander Champs raised the question of if the time was now ripe to take action in Gamla Stan.  His proposal was similar to Brodin’s, but the city still did not find the idea to be monetarily profitable. 

In 1889 and again in 1890, Sandahl drew up plans to completely rebuild Gamla Stan.  Streets and blocks were to be regularized like in Rudberg’s and Brodin’s proposals, but Sandahl introduced parks to Gamla Stan.  The sloping Slottsbacken (map 14) along the Royal Palace was to be terraced and planted as would a new, open square in front of Storkyrkan Church (map 5).  Where several streets meet at odd angles, Sandahl provides for generous, scenic squares.  Unlike Rudberg and Brodin, Sandahl’s proposal incorporates several main north-south thoroughfares and he even predicts the later-built Centralbro Bridge (map 15).         
Sandahl's 1890 proposal *

Traffic circulation was the main focus of Theorell’s 1891 proposal which included no fewer than four thoroughfares to be cut through Gamla Stan. 

Changing Perspectives
In 1895, the head of the building department Knös and City Engineer Ygberg proposed a plan very similar to Rudberg and Brodin’s plans.  This proposal also required the leveling of all topography and consequently monumental staircases to the remaining historical buildings.  The comments of the new head of the city building department, Alrutz, mark a turning point in the discussion of what to do with Gamla Stan.  He wrote that consideration should be given to other aspects than plainly economic and practical ones, and that “there are people who regard the center of our city as a holy relic and that it would be sacrilege to destroy these old buildings and alleys.”        
Knös and Ygberg, 1895 *

Alrutz was probably influenced by the widely published architect Hallman (more on him later) who reacted negatively to projects such as Haussmanns Paris.  He criticized gridiron planning as well as Paris’s long and “boring” boulevards and instead praised street systems that were at one with the terrain such as historic streets in Sweden’s medieval cities.  While German architects such as Sitte had been articulating such ideas and praise for the old way of doing things for decades, Hallman was the first outspoken Swedish architect to turn away from modern planning.  Medieval architectural styles were already in vogue, now medieval city planning was once again coming to the fore.   

In 1896, Söderlund presented a motion to city hall to block all planning efforts like the Knös and Ygberg proposal.  He wrote that city planning had too long “thought only of traffic requirements” and that the aesthetic was so disregarded that “our newer city plans have a nearly frightful stereotypical rigidness.”  Söderlund wrote that artists were needed by the side of engineers in the city planning process.  He felt that planners are responsible not only for the creation of sufficient traffic solutions but also to create a city for the future worthy of being a historic capitol.           

But the next year, another proposal for the demolition of Gamla Stan in favor of traffic thoroughfares was presented by railroad magnate Dalström.  Dalström’s plan was very similar to Knös and Ygberg’s proposal except that the new plan paid a bit more heed to existing topography.  Somewhat in keeping with the newer attitude on preservation, Dalström admitted that Gamla Stan was picturesque.  None-the-less, he argued that demolition was necessary, and that the longer the city waited, the more expensive it would become.    
Dalström's proposal from 1897 *

Yet another proposal in 1901 by engineer Rosenberg also feels familiar.  Here, several blocks near the Royal Palace are earmarked for new city and national ministries (the darker blocks in the plan below). 
Rosenberg's proposal, 1901. *
A large open space by the water was to be made into a park requiring the razing of the Bondeska Palace (see #14) (map 16),
and an open square at the junction of several new, wide streets in the middle of Gamla Stan provided an axis between Skeppsbron (map 17) and the Royal Palace’s southern portico.  At the same time as he proposes tearing down a large area of meaningful history, Rosenberg’s City Hall is ironically historical in style.  The city considered Rosenberg’s proposal but decided that it was both too wide-ranging and too contentious.  
The new City Hall's facade as proposed by Rosenberg in 1901. *

Gamla Stan native and internationally known artist Carl Larsson was perhaps the most famous and influential of the many voices condemning the whole scale demolition of Gamla Stan.  He wrote in 1904 that “if I were a millionaire, I would buy all the buildings on one of Gamla Stan’s alleyways.  I would as carefully as possible restore them to their original character, but I would simultaneously introduce all of our time’s interior conveniences . . . first of all electric lighting and bathrooms. . . . I am convinced that this idea would shortly win influence, and that the city between the bridges [Gamla Stan] would be the most modern – what a paradox! – and – hurray! – be saved from the poetry-less vandals’ horrible plans.”

In 1901, the city funded the Society of St. Erik (the patron saint of Stockholm) whose main task was to inventory Stockholm’s historic building stock.  The inventory in conjunction with grass roots campaigns eventually led to a series of historic preservation regulations on both the national and local levels.   The new regulations aren’t fail proof—thousands of Stockholm’s historic buildings were demolished in the 1950’s to 1970’s—but Gamla Stan has been relatively safe from wholescale demolition threats since the beginning of the 20th century.  These days, the tourist industry serves to ensure that wreaking balls stay out of Gamla Stan.  

The Insertion of Ministries
In the mid 1800’s, proposals to renew the Old Town were put aside due to expense.  By the late 1800’s, proposals for the comprehensive demolition Gamla Stan were contentious due to a rising interest in historical preservation.  However, the need for large buildings to house the various administrative functions of the national and city governments was still acute, and the vicinity of the Royal Palace (map 1) was still the self-evident place for such functions.  Newer proposals for Gamla Stan are (for the most part) limited to the insertion of modern ministry buildings within the existing historic fabric.

Hallman’s (probably) 1895 proposal for the insertion of a combined City Hall and City Court near the Royal Palace involved combining five narrow blocks into a megablock,
*
but the large mass was broken down into distinct volumes clad in various historical styles.  (This area is outlined in red on the map.)      
Hallman's 1895 proposal *

Lindgren’s 1905 proposal looks at a slightly expanded area compared to Hallman’s plan.
*
Lindgren’s plan calls for a City Hall, a City Court, a Stock Market, as well as several other ministries to take over the northwestern part of Gamla stan.  Again, the architecture is a jumble of historical styles.
Lindgren's 1905 proposal *

Nothing came of these plans until Hallman’s idea to combine five blocks into one large ministry building was revisited in 1942, this time for the Finance Department (yellow building on map).  Strong protests against the wholesale demolition of all five blocks resulted in a compromise where the buildings facing onto Västerlånggatan (map 2) and Storkyrkobrinken (map 17) were saved, and the three original alleyways through historic buildings facing onto Västerlånggatan remain,
Historical buildings were allowed to remain on the outside of the new megablock.
leading now into an interior courtyard of the new building.
The roofs of the surrounding buildings that were allowed to remain are visible from the Finance Department's interior courtyard.
While the Finance Department’s building’s plan is out of scale with its surroundings, the ministry’s height, yellow-colored stucco, and architectural detailing are in modest keeping with the historic buildings around.  In fact, the seam between old and new on Storkyrkobrinken is quite inconspicuous.
Left: The building on the left is the Finance Department.  Right: Seam between new Finance Department on the left and a historic building on the right.

The slightly rounded facade facing Riddarhustorget (map 18) not only hints at the circular interior courtyard, but it is also clearly reminiscent of Palmstedt’s concave facade at Tyska Brunnsplan (map 19), not too far away on the island. 
Concave Finance Department on the left, and concave Tyska Brunnsplan on the right.
On the whole, I think that the Finance Department building is a very successful example of a modern building blending into its historic context.  I am less enamored, however, of the long, blocky, empty arcade facing onto Myntgatan.  I find the arcade to be out of place and more of a reference to historic Italian architecture than Swedish building forms.
And then, of course, there's the question of whether new architecture shouldn't look, well, new. 

Conclusion
When I first started researching this topic, I thought that the Rudberg proposal was a standalone laughing-stock idea that gained little traction.  I was astounded to learn that although the Rudberg proposal is the most well-known, it was only one of a whole series of plans to demolish Gamla Stan.  I was even more dumbfounded to learn that the plans to raze Stockholm’s historic core were received with admiration for their modernness by the public, by generation after generation of city administration, and by the press.  What seems unthinkable today was clearly accepted as a first-rate idea not too long ago.  The pendulum of public opinion as well as the self-evident right and wrong in city planning does swing widely.

While the majority of the demolition plans were created by engineers, the wholescale demolition of Gamla Stan cannot be solely attributed to unartistic traffic planners.  City planners in the city administration were clearly interested in the ideas, and the most well-known proposal of all was put forth by Rudberg, an architect.  Professionals across the board were positive to the idea of tearing down the Old Town—differences of opinion were a matter of time more than a matter of profession or background.        

I have touched on the topic above, but I can't resist reiterating how strange it is that while the proposals above advocate tearing down the Old Town with the purpose of modernizing it, every single sketch is of historically stylistic architecture, be it Neo-Gothic or Neo-Dutch or Neo-Classical or Neo-Renaissance.  The architects and planners were not at all interested in modern-feeling architecture; they were only interested in "modern" city planning with somewhat wider streets, direct thoroughfares for improved traffic circulation, and a cleaned-up middle class.  It was ok if the Old Town seemed old and cutesy, but it was not appropriate for central Stockholm to be genuinely old with its associations of crowded and unsanitary living conditions, grungy streetscapes, and worn-out buildings.
*

Sadly, this post foreshadows an intense wave of demolition in the mid-20th century.  Even though it was only about 50 years after Gamla Stan was pardoned from wholescale destruction, the lessons learned from Gamla Stan were no longer deemed to be applicable.  Or at least not applicable to adjacent areas of town.  It almost seems like having left Gamla Stan unscathed, planners of the mid-20th century felt justified in demolishing other historic areas.  Retaining cutesy Gamla Stan was one thing since the preservation ideals could be contained to a small island, but historic preservation on a larger scale in the rest of Stockholm wasn’t deemed practical.   

I am sad about the loss of other parts of historic Stockholm, but thankful that at least Gamla Stan was allowed to survive!


Sources:
Gösta Selling, Hur Gamla stan överlevde (1973)
Aug. Eman. Rudberg, Förslag til ombygnad af Stockholms stad inom broarna jemte plankarta öfver den nya regleringen (1862)
Béatrice Glase and Gösta Glase, Gamla Stan – historia som lever (1988)
Åke Abrahamsson, Stockholm en utopisk historia (2004)
Thomas Hall, Stockholm: The Making of a Metropolis (2009)
Thomas Hall, Huvudstad i omvandling (2002)
Per Kallstenius, Minne och Vision: Stockholms stadsutveckling i dåtid, nutid och framtid (2010)

All of the photos are mine.
Images marked with * come from Gösta Selling’s book.