When we think about the spaces we occupy every day—our neighborhoods, shopping districts, downtown boulevards—certain visual elements readily come to mind: building facades, trees lining the sidewalks, the swarm of people flowing through crosswalks, the familiar grid of buses and cars in motion. Yet, hovering above and around all these details lies a more subtle, nearly invisible sculptor of our visual environment: volume. Often overlooked, the way volume is managed, manipulated, and expressed can quietly transform the entire character of a street, imparting atmospheres that are at once tangible and deeply psychological.
Defining Volume in the Urban Context
Volume, in urban design and architecture, refers to the three-dimensional space that structures and other built forms occupy. This space is not only the physical shell of a building or the empty air above a plaza; it is the very canvas upon which the city draws its spatial drama. Volume establishes the dialogue between buildings and streets, the ebb and flow of public and private domains, and the rhythm of shadow and light across pavement and brick.
Unlike flat, two-dimensional elevations or blueprints, volume is experienced bodily. As pedestrians or cyclists, we walk into, around, and through the spatial forms that comprise the urban realm. How much ‘air’ resides on a street, how compactly buildings press against the sidewalk, or how generously setbacks and setbacks open up breathing room—all these nuances of volume directly color our daily experiences.
Psychological Resonance: Comfort, Safety, and Awe
Volume’s impact on the aesthetic of a streetscape is profound but not always verbalized. Wide, open boulevards with low-rise structures might evoke a sense of freedom, growth, and potential, mirroring the spirit of cities like Los Angeles or certain ‘garden city’ suburbs. Conversely, narrow streets hemmed in by tall buildings, such as those found in medieval European cities or contemporary financial districts, can foster a sense of intimacy, or, sometimes, claustrophobia.
Herein lies the psychological component: Humans unconsciously respond to volume in their environment. Spaciousness can inspire relaxation, creativity, or even a playful sense of exploration. Restricting volume, on the other hand, can either make an environment feel cozy and welcoming or tense and oppressive, depending on accompanying details like lighting, material, and noise level. There is a reason why Times Square feels electric and overwhelming, while a Parisian boulevard lined with maximally spaced trees and mid-rise buildings gives off an air of calm sophistication.
Volume as a Canvas for Identity
Volume is also a signature of cultural and local identity. Think of the difference between a Japanese machiya street, with its low, timber-framed homes hugging narrow alleyways, and a modern American city, where zoning codes often allow—or even encourage—massive monolithic blocks. Each volume profile is a direct expression of socio-economic priorities, climate adaptation, historical evolution, and aesthetic leanings. The narrow volumes in Kyoto reflect centuries of land scarcity and communal living, while the broad, sky-gobbling towers in Manhattan broadcast ambition and economic power.
Street volume, therefore, becomes a language—one every city speaks in its own accent and dialect. It not only shapes how the street is seen but how it is used: whether it prioritizes pedestrians over cars, whether it encourages lingering or hurrying, whether it invites serendipity or wards off strangers.
Shifting Volumes in Changing Times
Urban volumes are not static. Cities grow, populations shift, and technologies evolve. The previously ‘optimal’ street volumes may feel obsolete or dysfunctional as needs and preferences change. During the 19th century, the invention of the elevator redefined acceptable building heights, transforming previously modest cityscapes into vertical marvels. More recently, the advent of remote work and e-commerce has put pressure on commercial corridors, pointing to new possibilities for reimagining their spatial envelope.
The global pandemic in 2020 serves as a poignant example: Cities worldwide experimented with reclaiming road volume for pedestrians and cyclists, squeezing car space and ballooning outdoor patios. The psychological and aesthetic effect was dramatic. Streets once dominated by roaring engines and steel frames became lively tapestries of people, plants, and open skies, reminding us that adjusting volume can quickly and profoundly change our relationship to the street.
Designing for Diversity: Adaptive and Inclusive Volumes
Contemporary urban planning increasingly recognizes the importance of diverse, adaptive volumes. No single formula fits every neighborhood, climate, or population. Some ancient principles endure—ample daylight, visual connection to green space, walkable proportions—but new challenges require dynamic solutions.
For instance, mixed-use developments are now deliberately varying building volumes along single corridors, breaking up monotonous walls with setbacks, terraces, and stepped facades. “Pocket parks” and pop-up markets are inserted into previous volumetric voids. Even lighting design, which manipulates the “perceived” volume of a space after sundown, is now a central ingredient in crafting a street’s look and feel at night.
The Volume Toolbox: Practical Strategies
How can designers and city leaders harness volume to make streets more beautiful, functional, and welcoming? A few proven strategies include:
- Varied Massing: Mixing buildings of different scales can provide visual interest and prevent monotony.
- Setbacks & Step-Backs: Modest recesses in facades at ground or upper levels open up breathing room and invite pedestrian activity.
- Arcades and Colonnades: Covered walkways add usable volume and shelter, fostering street life amid changing weather.
- Green Inserts: Introducing trees, planters, and vertical gardens “softens” hard volumes and improves air quality.
- Street Furniture & Art: Sculptural volumes like benches, kiosks, or public art punctuate the streetscape and create micro-places—the seeds of community.
