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Designing for belonging: What master planned communities and outdoor hospitality teach us about connection

09/29/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Community Development, Hospitality, Landscape Architecture, Planning

By Lance Ippel, Senior Planner at RVi Planning + Landscape Architecture

When we talk about “community” as designers, we aren’t just talking about the physical layout of streets, parks, or open spaces. Community is all about connection, and design plays an important role in how people connect to each other. In my experience designing master planned communities (MPCs) and outdoor hospitality destinations, I’ve seen the way spaces influence how people meet, socialize, and ultimately feel a sense of belonging. These outcomes are not accidental. They emerge from the careful layering of social connections, programs, and design elements.

As a landscape designer, I approach every project with the end user in mind. How will someone move through this space? How will they find their way, meet others, or carve out solitude when they need it? How do the functional community components, amenities, and activities interact to create an experience that feels welcoming to everyone? I answer all these questions through a layered design approach.

Layered design is a method of creating outdoor spaces by considering the various ecological, functional, and aesthetic elements that overlap and interact with each other. It ensures that all the elements of a personalized, inviting space, such as easy navigation, welcoming gathering spaces, and flexibility, all come together seamlessly to create a positive experience. MPCs and outdoor hospitality spaces are two types of communities that may have different physical outcomes but share a common design goal: to create environments that are intuitive, engaging, and welcoming to everyone.

Two worlds, one goal: Connection

At first glance, a master planned community and an outdoor hospitality destination may seem like two very different worlds. MPCs are long-term residential environments built to support everyday life, while outdoor hospitality can mean anything from a weekend camping trip to a month-long RV adventure. But the truth is that both share a surprising number of design goals.

First, navigation and connectivity are central to both. In a community, residents should be able to comfortably navigate their neighborhood whether by foot, bike, or car. As a designer, I often imagine how I would give directions to a friend visiting for the first time. No matter how large the development, people should never feel lost or disoriented. In outdoor hospitality, this concept shows up in how people drive into a site, park, and then shift into pedestrian mode. Campgrounds, glamping resorts, and RV parks all need clear wayfinding so guests can relax into their experience instead of worrying about getting around.

Both types of environments also rely heavily on gathering spaces. In MPCs, these might be central plazas, pedestrian promenades, or flexible-use parks where a neighborhood can host a birthday party one weekend and a cultural festival the next. Outdoor hospitality spaces also provide central nodes, but they often lean more toward walkable, intimate hubs like campfire circles, picnic shelters, or trailheads that naturally invite interaction with both people and nature.

Finally, both require a strong balance between individualized experiences and collective engagement. In a master planned community, residents may want quiet sidewalks for evening walks as much as they want vibrant community centers. In an outdoor resort, a guest might choose between spending time solo in a hammock or joining a group hike. Both contexts succeed when they provide options for socializing that feel comfortable no matter if someone comes alone, in a couple, with family, or as part of a larger group. healing process.

Different scales and different rhythms

The key difference in these two communities lies in scale and permanence.

Master planned communities are designed for longevity and growth over decades. I see them as functioning like a puzzle within a puzzle, where each section has its own identity but connects seamlessly to the larger whole. These places are built to feel like home in the truest sense: a backdrop for daily routines, family milestones, and neighborhood traditions. That makes navigation and comfort especially important because residents need to feel secure, grounded, and confident that their community supports the rhythms of everyday life.

The layering of spaces, connections, and programs in MPCs creates a flexible security and comfort, supporting both everyday life and moments of connection.

Outdoor hospitality environments, on the other hand, are temporary by nature. Visitors are usually there for a defined time, and their needs revolve around creating a meaningful experience in a short span. That makes walkability even more critical. Guests typically arrive by vehicle but then want everything within a short stroll once they’re on-site. For strategic designers, the challenge is twofold: creating spaces that immediately engage people during their stay while also weaving in experiences and elements that are memorable enough to draw them back again and again. Whether it’s the comfort of easily navigating a site, the charm of a communal fire pit where strangers become friends, or the uniqueness of a trail system that feels both accessible and adventurous, these touchpoints turn a temporary visit into a lasting connection.

Thoughtful layering of experiences encourages both private moments and social connection, allowing outdoor hospitality resorts to become a home away from home, drawing users back for more, and offering comfort and familiarity even in a new and temporary setting.

Layering experiences to build belonging and community

For the end user, a successfully layered experience translates into comfort, ease, and ultimately personal connection.

In an MPC, strong pedestrian connectivity means parents can let kids bike to the park with confidence. Central gathering areas mean neighbors can meet without needing to drive across town. The sidewalk in front of a home can connect to the regional trail system that connects scenic landscapes to the larger city. Thoughtful layered design transforms what could be just another subdivision into a neighborhood where people know each other’s names.

In outdoor hospitality, layered experiences ensure that even in an unfamiliar setting, visitors feel grounded. Clear trails, logical layouts, and inviting gathering spaces help guests focus less on logistics and more on connection, whether that’s roasting marshmallows with strangers around a campfire or simply enjoying a quiet morning coffee with a view.

The overlap between these two worlds reminds us that layered design is not just about the lines on a plan. It is about shaping human experience in ways that make people feel at home. When design is fragmented or disconnected, people notice. Confusing layouts, inaccessible gathering spaces, or a lack of flexible options all make it harder for people to feel comfortable. Layering social opportunities, programming, and design elements by contrast, removes barriers and fosters both intentional and spontaneous connection.

Community doesn’t happen by accident. It is cultivated through intentional design choices that prioritize meaningful connection, flexibility, and comfort. These environments don’t just provide shelter or recreation; they build empathy, strengthen neighborhoods, and expand cultural horizons.

Layered design is the thread that weaves these experiences together. It bridges the permanent and the temporary, the familiar and the new. When we peer past the overt presentation of a space—be it a master planned community or outdoor hospitality—we can better design for connection and belonging. In doing so, we do more than build spaces; we build community, shared culture, and a lasting sense of place

Author Bio: Lance Ippel is a Senior Planner at RVi Planning + Landscape Architecture in the Austin, Texas office and has more than nine years of experience in landscape architecture, planning, and land use. His work spans master-planned communities, RV and glamping resorts, marinas, and parks, where he coordinates projects and integrates land use, infrastructure, and design to create places that fit their surroundings and serve the people who use them. A member of ASLA and ULI, Lance is passionate about outdoor hospitality and shaping places that connect people to nature.

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The healing power of place: The science behind healing gardens and better healthcare outcomes

08/26/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Campuses, Landscape Architecture, Planning

By Geoff Roehll, ASLA, CLARB, Director of Healthcare and Senior Living at RVi Planning + Landscape Architecture

The environments we inhabit shape our health in countless ways. Air quality, access to nature, opportunities for physical activity, noise, stress, and even the views outside our windows all influence our physical and mental well-being.

While many health factors lie beyond our control, our surroundings play a significant role in determining how we feel, how we recover, and how we thrive. It follows, then, that the environments where we receive care should be designed to support healing.

This isn’t just conjecture; decades of research have reinforced this connection. In a landmark 1984 study, environmental psychologist Dr. Roger Ulrich found that patients recovering from surgery who had views of nature experienced shorter hospital stays, fewer minor postoperative complications, and required fewer doses of strong pain medication than patients whose windows overlooked a brick wall.

Simply having a view of nature through the window can measurably influence recovery.

Since that groundbreaking study, a growing body of evidence has continued to demonstrate the relationship between nature, the built environment, and patient outcomes. And isn’t it something we all feel intuitively? As our understanding has evolved, so has the way hospitals approach planning and design. Healthcare campuses are increasingly viewed as holistic healing environments where landscapes, gardens, circulation and wayfinding, outdoor spaces, and everyday interactions with nature all contribute to treatment and recovery.

So, what does that look like in practice? How can a garden heal? Why do decisions about parking, circulation, or wayfinding matter? And how do these investments create value for healthcare organizations? It all begins with understanding how thoughtful design can reduce stress and support healing at every step of the healthcare journey.

Beyond aesthetics, every detail of a healing garden is meticulously crafted to support resident needs at Tabor Hills, a senior living community in Naperville, Illinois.

Healing gardens and the theory of supportive design

Understanding how a garden can heal requires understanding the role that stress plays in the healing process. Elevated stress can increase blood pressure, raise cortisol levels, interfere with immune function, heighten the perception of pain, and make recovery more difficult. Patients aren’t the only ones affected. Families coping with uncertainty and clinicians working long shifts experience many of the same physiological responses.

That’s what makes healing gardens so much more than attractive outdoor amenities. They’re carefully designed therapeutic environments intended to buffer against stress and create the conditions that allow healing to happen.

The foundation of Dr. Ulrich’s Theory of Supportive Gardens suggests four key ways by which gardens reduce stress: by helping patients regain a sense of control, fostering social support, encouraging movement, and providing positive distractions through nature. These four principles lay the groundwork for evidence-based healing garden design.

When we design healing gardens, we create opportunities for patients to regain a sense of agency in an environment where so much of their experience is prescribed. That might mean providing multiple destinations instead of a single path, offering choices between sun and shade, or creating quiet spaces where patients and families can spend time together away from the clinical setting.

We’re also thinking about the programming of the space, how the landscape supports care beyond passive enjoyment. The Integrative Medicine Garden at Advocate Good Shepherd Hospital in Barrington, Illinois, illustrates this principle. Designed to complement the hospital’s integrative medicine program, the garden extends care beyond the building itself, creating positive distractions and spaces for yoga, counseling, quiet reflection, walking, and social support that directly support the services offered inside the adjacent treatment center.

Movement is another critical consideration. Gently looping pathways encourage walking without creating dead ends or confusing circulation. Accessible routes, comfortable grades, and intuitive navigation allow people of varying abilities to move confidently through the space while supporting rehabilitation and light physical activity.

Finally, every sensory experience matters. The sound of moving water can soften the mechanical noise of a hospital campus. Native plantings, seasonal color, birds, butterflies, and shifting light provide positive natural distractions that gently draw attention away from pain, anxiety, or uncertainty. Together, these seemingly small interventions help restore a sense of calm—and ultimately support the healing process.

Soft lighting, lush plantings, and the illuminated water wall transform the garden into a peaceful retreat that supports reflection and relaxation throughout the day and into the evening.

The healthcare campus as a healing journey

While healing gardens are one of the most recognizable expressions of this philosophy, they aren’t the only environments that influence patient outcomes. The same principles that guide the design of a therapeutic landscape can—and should—inform every aspect of a healthcare campus.

Throughout the master planning process, we evaluate every decision through the perspective of the people using the campus every day—patients, families, visitors, clinicians, and staff. From the moment someone arrives, each interaction with the environment has the potential to either increase stress or alleviate it.

Healing begins long before a patient enters an exam room. Before treatment even begins, the arrival experience shapes how people feel about a healthcare campus. Finding parking, navigating unfamiliar surroundings, and locating the right entrance may seem like operational concerns, but they have meaningful human impacts. Every unnecessary detour or confusing decision point adds cognitive and emotional burden during an already difficult moment.

Accessibility is equally important. For hospitals and especially senior living communities, thoughtful planning minimizes walking distances, reduces grade changes, provides frequent opportunities to rest, and creates routes that feel safe, comfortable, and intuitive for people of all ages and abilities. These decisions may appear small in isolation, but together they help reduce stress, improve confidence, and create a more supportive experience for everyone who uses the campus.

That same philosophy extends to staff. Outdoor courtyards, rooftop gardens, walking paths, and other spaces for respite give clinicians opportunities to decompress during demanding shifts. Supporting the well-being of caregivers ultimately supports better care for patients, reinforcing the idea that a healing environment serves everyone—not just those receiving treatment.

That philosophy takes many forms depending on the needs of a campus. At the Lynn and Jerry Flaherty Family Respite Garden at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center, for instance, we transformed an underutilized rooftop into a restorative retreat for patients, families, and healthcare staff. Inspired by a journey through the woods, the garden weaves together intimate seating areas, gathering spaces, water features, and views of the Illinois River. While the space serves those who can access it directly, it also provides restorative views from surrounding patient rooms, reinforcing the idea that healing can occur through both experience and observation.

The Lynn and Jerry Flaherty Family Respite Garden at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center
transforms an underutilized rooftop into functional green space that provides access to and views of nature.

The business case for healing environments

The value of healing gardens and thoughtfully planned healthcare campuses is more than just added amenities. Shorter hospital stays, improved treatment responses, and lower rates of complications can contribute to more efficient care delivery. Intuitive campus circulation can improve patient satisfaction and strengthen community perception, helping organizations to differentiate themselves in an increasingly competitive landscape.

The benefits extend to the people delivering care as well. Physicians, nurses, and hospital staff work in environments defined by long hours, emotional demands, and high rates of burnout. Access to outdoor respite areas and restorative landscapes can contribute to greater job satisfaction and support employee retention.

Taken together, these benefits reinforce an important reality: investing in healing environments isn’t just about creating beautiful places. It’s about creating healthcare campuses that function better for everyone who depends on them—patients, families, clinicians, staff, and the organizations that serve them. The same evidence-based principles that improve the human experience also support stronger operational outcomes

The Wings of Hope Angel Garden at Edward Hospital in Naperville offers moments of respite for staff as well as patients.

The role we play

Everything discussed—from healing gardens and intuitive circulation to evidence-based campus planning—requires collaboration across disciplines. As planners and landscape architects, we don’t design healthcare facilities in isolation. We work alongside architects, engineers, clinicians, administrators, and operations teams to understand how people use a campus today and how it can better support care tomorrow.

Our role is to translate research into places that work. That means balancing clinical needs with human experience, coordinating complex site constraints, and identifying opportunities where the landscape can improve outcomes. Whether we’re developing a campus master plan, designing a healing garden, or reimagining outdoor spaces, every decision is guided by the same question: How can this environment better support the people who rely on it?

Because healing doesn’t happen in just one room, and great healthcare doesn’t begin or end at the front door. It happens throughout the entire journey. And if something as simple as a view through a window can influence recovery, imagine what’s possible when nature becomes an integrative part of the healing process.

Author Bio: As RVi’s Director of Healthcare and Senior Living, Geoff Roehll has led the planning and design of healthcare and senior living landscapes for more than three decades. Coming from a family of healthcare professionals, Geoff has long been passionate about creating environments that support healing through thoughtful planning and evidence-based landscape architecture. In addition to his work with RVi, Geoff was an instructor at the Chicago Botanic Garden’s Therapeutic Garden Certificate Program and regularly shares his expertise at regional and national healthcare conferences.

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Nothing changed. We did: What parks projects have taught me about community value

07/22/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Landscape Architecture, Planning, Public Places

By Tim Bargainer, Senior Vice President at RVi Planning + Landscape Architecture

In 1998 I was sitting with a man who had been the mayor of Round Rock for the better part of a decade and he was still giving the city his time on the transportation board. We were talking about the future of the community, the way people who genuinely care about a place do, and somewhere in the middle of it I brought up the Brushy Creek corridor. I said I thought the corridor could one day be one of the finest park and trail assets the community would ever own.

I believed that completely. I was also, I should admit, the youngest and probably the most idealistic person at the table.

He heard me out. He wasn’t a dismissive man, and this was not a dismissive answer. He told me, more or less, what a lot of people who had actually run a city would have told me then. Parks were good and worthy things. But the town had bigger needs first. It needed water. It needed roads. It needed to keep up with growth that was already coming whether anyone was ready or not. A linear park along the creek was a lovely idea. It just wasn’t essential.

At the time, I didn’t have an answer to that, at least not one that could move him. I believed the creek was worth more than that. I just couldn’t show him why. Not in the terms that decision would have been made in, anyway.

For over twenty-five years I’ve thought about that conversation from time to time and I’ve come to believe it was never really about a park along a creek. It was about a single word. Essential.

Every community has to decide what it can’t do without. That decision comes first, before any budget, and everything else lines up behind it. When he said parks were a quality-of-life item, he wasn’t telling me they had no value, he was telling me where they fell in the order of things. Essential on one side. Everything else on the other. And that idea, however much I loved it, was on the other side.

He wasn’t wrong to see it that way. He was describing the world as nearly everyone understood it then. Water and roads were infrastructure. Parks were what you got to once the essentials were covered. That was the real limit in the room that day, and it wasn’t his imagination or mine. It was the language itself.

A way to say it out loud

One of the first things that really started to change my mind was a study.

An economist named Ray Perryman put numbers to what a lot of us had felt for years and couldn’t prove. He looked at parks and open space and measured what they did to the things a city council actually votes on. Property values. Local spending. The tax base. When the report came out, I remember the feeling more than any single figure. It wasn’t that parks suddenly mattered. We already knew they mattered. It was that, for the first time, the value we’d been sensing had a language a budget could hear.

That’s a smaller thing than a revelation and a larger thing than a statistic. It didn’t change the parks. It changed the conversation. A park could now be argued for in the same terms as a road, in the same room, in front of the same people. Research didn’t create the value of parks. It simply helped us recognize value that had always been there.

Then came a flood

The next thing that really started to change my mind didn’t come from a study. It came from a flood.

I was working on a park that sat low in the floodplain like so many do. Memorial Park, on Brushy Creek. It wasn’t the kind of place you typically build on. It flooded. In the old way of thinking, that was its weakness. The reason it was a park and not something more valuable was that it wouldn’t have been good for much else.

Then a major storm blew through, the kind that used to be fairly rare but just really isn’t anymore. I went to look at it afterward. The park was submerged in water. The trails, the fields, all of it, disappeared beneath a slow brown sheet moving through where the ballgames used to be.

And the Flats, the old neighborhood downstream in downtown Round Rock, was still dry.

I don’t remember how long I stood there, but I remember exactly what changed. I began to truly understand something I had known on paper for years and had never really felt. The park wasn’t leftover land that happened to flood. The park was doing a job. It was holding the storm so the Flats didn’t have to. Every acre of it under water was an acre of somebody’s living room that stayed dry. The thing we’d thought of as “useless land” was the entire point.

No one had funded that park to protect those homes. We’d built it for ballfields and trails, and it had been quietly doing something far larger the whole time, without being asked and without being thanked. I had spent years making the case for parks on the basis of what people could do in them. Standing at the edge of that water, I started to understand them by what they do for us whether we ask them to or not.

Seeing the whole picture

After that, I noticed I started asking different questions.

I stopped asking only what was in a park and started asking what it was part of. A stand of old trees stopped being landscaping and became shade over a Texas summer that gets longer every year, which is another way of saying it became public health. A trail stopped being a place to jog and became a way for a kid to get to school without crossing four lanes of traffic. None of this was new. The trees had always thrown shade. The path had always gone from one place to another. What changed was that I finally saw them as part of how a community works, instead of nice things set on top of it.

Looking back, I couldn’t tell you the day my perspective actually changed. It happened gradually, almost without me noticing.

Early on I thought in terms of projects. A park here. A trail there. Each one its own thing, argued on its own terms, defended in its own line of the budget. Over time I stopped seeing them that way. A park isn’t one thing doing one job. It’s a piece of ground doing a dozen jobs at once, most of which nobody is counting. It cools the air and holds the water and moves the children and lifts the houses around it and gives a place its name, all at the same time.

When I say we learned to value these places differently, I don’t mean the parks became more important. I mean our understanding became larger. Recreation was still there. We simply began to recognize that these same places could strengthen our economy, protect our neighborhoods, improve our health, restore habitat, and quietly hold communities together in ways we hadn’t fully appreciated.

Seeing it differently

If I could sit with that man again, I don’t think I’d tell him he was wrong. I don’t think he was.

He asked the right question. What can a growing town afford, and what actually counts as essential? That question never goes away. Every community has to answer it, in every generation, with whatever understanding it happens to have at the time. What’s changed since 1998 isn’t the question. It’s the size of the answer. We know more now, because floods and heat and studies and over twenty-five years of paying attention have taught us more. An idea that couldn’t cross the line into essential back then can cross it easily today, and nobody at the table would blink.

The Brushy Creek Regional Trail came a couple of years after that conversation, and today it’s still evolving. I don’t say that as a victory. I say it because it’s true, and because it makes the point better than any argument I could build. Nothing about the creek changed. We did.

Which leaves me with a harder thought, if the worth of that creek was real long before we had the words to defend it, then there is almost certainly something we undervalue right now for the very same reason. Something already doing quiet work for our communities that we haven’t yet learned to measure, or even to name. I don’t know what it is. That’s the point. He couldn’t see the full worth of the creek, and I’m not at all sure I can see whatever the creek is now.

A hopeful lesson

So I try to hold my certainty a little more loosely than I once did.

The parks never changed. The creek corridor was worth exactly what it was worth on the afternoon I first brought it up. What changed was us. We learned, slowly and usually the hard way, to recognize what these places had been giving us all along. When I sit with that, it strikes me as a hopeful thing. It means a community is capable of understanding more than it once did. It means the next generation will inherit a wider idea of value than we did and will hand down a wider one still.

Nothing changed. We did.

Tim Bargainer has spent over thirty years working with communities as a planner and landscape architect. These essays are his attempt to think out loud about how we come to understand the value of the places we share. You can find more of Tim’s essays here Tim Bargainer | Substack

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Why the best destination resorts let the land inform the design 

06/30/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Hospitality + Entertainment, Land Planning, Landscape Architecture, Planning

By RVI’s Alex Fenech, ASLA, Vice President, Coral Springs, Florida and Brett Allen Park, Vice President, Costa Mesa, California

RVi’s Vice Presidents, Alex Fenech, FASLA, and Brett Allen Park have more than four decades of experience shaping hospitality destinations worldwide. Their work has ranged from luxury resorts and branded residences to destination entertainment districts, theme parks, waterfront developments, and projects for some of the world’s most recognizable hospitality brands, including Marriott, The EDITION Hotel West Hollywood, Rosewood, Sheraton, Hilton, and Disney. Through these experiences, they have learned a simple but often overlooked truth: the most authentic and enduring destinations emerge when developers allow the land to lead the vision.

Hospitality developers are not simply creating buildings. They are creating memories, emotions, and experiences that guests will carry with them long after they leave.

That responsibility becomes even more complex when a project is located in an environmentally sensitive area. Whether along a vulnerable coastline, within a wetland system, near critical wildlife habitat, or in a water-constrained environment, developers often face a familiar question: How do we overcome the site’s constraints?

In our experience, that question often leads projects in the wrong direction.

Between us, we have spent more than four decades planning and designing hospitality destinations across North America, the Caribbean, the Middle East, Asia, and Australia. Our work has included luxury resorts, branded residences, convention destinations, theme parks, golf communities, and mixed-use hospitality environments for some of the world’s most recognized brands and operators. Across that work, one lesson has remained constant: the most memorable destinations are not imposed upon the land. They are discovered through it.

The hospitality industry is experiencing a fundamental shift. Guests increasingly seek authentic, place-based experiences. Investors are prioritizing long-term resilience. Operators are demanding higher performance standards. At the same time, environmental systems are becoming increasingly important to permitting, financing, operations, and long-term asset value.

We believe the environment is often our greatest opportunity. When resilience, ecology, guest experience, and operational performance are considered together from the beginning, developers can create destinations that are more authentic, more memorable, and ultimately more valuable.

This snorkel lagoon showcases the Bahamas’ natural beauty, where protected coastal ecosystems create unforgettable experiences both above and below the waterline.

Let the land inform the design

Every site tells a story.

Too often, hospitality projects begin with room counts, density targets, parking requirements, arrival sequences, and predetermined programming. The design team is then tasked with fitting those elements onto the site as efficiently as possible.

We believe the process should work in reverse.

The most successful destinations begin by understanding the environmental systems that make a place unique. Climate, topography, hydrology, vegetation, wildlife, viewsheds, cultural history, and ecological relationships should inform the design from the outset.

Some of the most meaningful lessons we have learned have come from projects where environmental conditions have fundamentally changed the development approach. Wetlands altered circulation patterns. Wildlife corridors influenced where development could occur. Shoreline conditions reshaped programming decisions. Natural view corridors dictated the placement of guest amenities.

In nearly every case, the final outcome was stronger because of those constraints, not despite them.

The hospitality industry often speaks about creating a sense of place, yet many destinations still begin with a generic development formula and attempt to adapt it to the site. That approach frequently results in experiences that feel interchangeable.

The projects that stand apart are those that embrace their environmental context.

Sea turtle nesting beaches remind us that protecting natural systems preserves experiences and ecological processes that cannot be recreated once they’re lost.

Great guest experiences are rooted in environmental authenticity

Hospitality is fundamentally different from other forms of development.

A guest does not choose a destination because it has the most efficient parking lot or the highest density. They choose it because of how it makes them feel.

The most successful hospitality brands understand this. Whether working with luxury operators, branded residences, boutique hotels, or destination resorts, we consistently see one common expectation: create an experience that guests cannot find anywhere else.

Today’s travelers are increasingly seeking immersion, authenticity, and connection to nature. They want experiences that feel rooted in place. They want to discover something unique, not something replicated.

That might mean observing turtle nesting activity along a protected shoreline. It could mean experiencing a dark sky free from light pollution. It may be a boardwalk through a mangrove ecosystem, views across preserved wetlands, or the sounds of native wildlife rather than mechanical equipment.

These environmental conditions are often treated as development limitations. In reality, they frequently become a destination’s most valuable amenities.

At RVi, we spend significant time thinking about how guest experiences, operational performance, and environmental stewardship intersect. Successful hospitality design requires more than beautiful spaces. It requires careful consideration of arrival sequences, pedestrian circulation, service access, maintenance operations, outdoor programming, wellness experiences, food and beverage environments, and brand expectations.

When done successfully, guests leave with memories that could only have been created in that location. Those memories become the foundation of a destination’s identity and long-term success.

Resilience, ecology, and business performance are no longer separate conversations

For years, resilience was something we talked about primarily in terms of risk. It meant protecting property from storms, flooding, or other environmental threats. While those concerns remain important, we’ve come to see resilience as something much bigger. Today, it influences permitting, insurance, operations, guest expectations, and ultimately the long-term value of a destination.

While much of our work focuses on hospitality destinations, some of the strongest examples of these planning principles can be found in master-planned communities. Resort amenities, clubhouses, waterfront experiences, trail systems, wellness spaces, and gathering places are often woven into larger communities, making the lessons learned from community planning directly applicable to destination development.

Our colleagues Alexis Crespo, Vice President of Planning, and Sabrina McCabe, Director of Landscape Architecture in RVi’s Bonita Springs office have helped shape many of these planning principles through projects like Babcock Ranch and Silverstrand in Southwest Florida, bringing a deep understanding of how environmental systems can create stronger communities. Their work demonstrates that sustainability begins long before the first building is designed. It starts with understanding how a site naturally functions and allowing those systems to guide planning decisions from day one.

Although Babcock Ranch is a master-planned community rather than a hospitality destination, its planning approach offers valuable lessons for any project rooted in environmentally sensitive land. Instead of forcing the landscape to fit a development program, the planning team allowed the site’s natural systems to shape the community. Wetlands, drainage patterns, wildlife habitat, and open space became the framework for development—not constraints to overcome.

Babcock Ranch demonstrated the value of that approach during Hurricane Ian. While many surrounding communities experienced widespread flooding and prolonged power outages, the town remained largely operational because years of thoughtful planning respected the site’s natural hydrology, preserved its environmental systems, and invested in resilient infrastructure from the outset. It serves as a powerful reminder that resilience isn’t achieved through a single design feature—it’s the cumulative result of hundreds of planning decisions made with the land, not against it.

That same philosophy is evident at Silverstrand, an 800-acre master-planned community in northeast Lee County. Under Alexis’ planning leadership, the team implemented a density incentive strategy that clustered development in exchange for restoring former agricultural land with native Florida vegetation. More than 60 percent of the site was permanently conserved, including over 300 acres of restored upland habitat strategically located to reconnect wetland systems and buffer neighboring rural properties. Working alongside Alexis, Sabrina’s landscape architecture expertise helped transform those conservation areas into ecological assets that strengthened the community’s identity while enhancing long-term environmental performance.

When ecological systems become part of the design rather than something the design works around, resilience, guest experience, operational performance, and long-term value reinforce one another. That’s the kind of planning we believe will define the next generation of destination development.

Babcock Ranch illustrates how thoughtful planning can work with natural systems, creating a community where resilient infrastructure, native landscapes, and everyday experiences are shaped by the land.

The most memorable destinations are shaped by the land itself

If there is one lesson our experience has reinforced, it’s that the most memorable destinations are often the ones shaped by the character of the land itself. Environmental systems are opportunities to create places with a stronger sense of identity, deeper connections to nature, and experiences that simply couldn’t exist anywhere else.

Whether we’re planning a luxury resort, a branded residential community, a convention destination, or an amenity-rich master-planned community, our approach remains the same. Every site has its own story, shaped by its ecology, history, and natural systems. Our role as designers (and planners) is to understand those qualities and translate them into places that enrich the guest experience, support long-term operations, and remain resilient for generations.

Hospitality is ultimately about creating places people remember. In our experience, the destinations that leave the greatest impression are those that celebrate the character of the land, creating experiences that feel authentic, enduring, and uniquely connected to their surroundings.

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Flexible zoning and entitlement strategies: How to create opportunities for master planned communities to adapt and evolve over time

05/28/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Community Development, Land Planning, Landscape Architecture, Planning

By Mark Reddie, Regional Vice President, Southwest at RVi

Over the course of my career, I have spent more than 30 years helping communities across the Southwest plan for growth through comprehensive planning, annexation, rezoning, and subdivision design. More recently, I have had the opportunity to work alongside Chris Baker, RVi Principal in Reno, whose decades of experience in entitlement strategy and community planning have added valuable perspective to our work on large-scale master planned communities. Together, we have focused on helping clients balance long-term vision, market realities, infrastructure coordination, and community expectations in ways that allow communities to evolve successfully over time.

Throughout our work, one question continues to guide our approach: how can a community planned today continue to thrive decades from now?

It is a question rooted in the realities of modern growth. Housing demands evolve, infrastructure priorities shift, and market conditions fluctuate, developers and municipalities are being challenged to plan communities that can respond to long-term change without losing their identity. For large scale master planned communities, this requires more than securing zoning approvals. It requires an entitlement strategy that creates a durable framework for flexibility, predictability, design quality, and community character.

Through our work across the U.S., particularly in the southwest, including the Solstice Foothills community in Goodyear, Arizona, Chris and I have seen first-hand how flexible zoning, a thoughtful entitlement strategy, and meaningful community engagement can help create stronger, more resilient development outcomes. The most successful long-term planning frameworks balance adaptability and certainty in ways that allow communities to evolve responsibly over time.

Entitlement strategy is no longer just about approvals

For decades, entitlement strategy was often treated as a regulatory milestone, a necessary step to secure zoning approvals and move a development project forward. I believe that approach is becoming increasingly outdated.

Today, the strongest communities are planned with enough structure to create certainty and enough flexibility to evolve with the people, markets and public priorities that will shape them over time.

That philosophy shaped nearly every major decision we made on Solstice Foothills. From the beginning, we recognized that housing demand, infrastructure needs, development economics, and market conditions would continue to shift throughout the life of the project. The entitlement strategy needed to acknowledge that reality instead of assuming the future would remain static.

At RVi, we work at the intersection of land planning, entitlement strategy, community engagement and community design. Increasingly, that work also begins before a project officially enters the entitlement process.

As Chris often points out, “RVi is frequently involved during the due diligence and purchase agreement stages, helping developers, brokers, property owners, and investors align on transaction timing, infrastructure planning, and entitlement strategy early enough to create realistic and achievable development outcomes.”

That perspective allows us to think beyond immediate zoning approvals and focus on how communities will adapt, create long-term value, and maintain a strong identity over decades of implementation.

In my experience, flexible zoning works best when paired with strong planning principles, clear community expectations, and targeted safeguards that build trust over time.

A case study in flexible entitlement strategy

One of the biggest misconceptions in land development is that entitlement strategy is simply about securing the maximum number of units, density, or intensity for a project. In reality, particularly for master planned communities, entitlement strategy is one of the most important tools for establishing a framework for long-term success. A strong entitlement strategy can shape flexibility, design quality, infrastructure coordination, regulatory safeguards, and the ability of a community to respond to changing market conditions over time. That became clear early in the planning process for Solstice Foothills.

The original planned area development (PAD) for the property (formerly known as Rio 1900) had been approved nearly 20 years earlier and reflected a very different housing market and development environment. The challenge was not simply updating the zoning code but creating a flexible entitlement framework that could remain viable over a much longer development timeline.

We recognized early that a conventional zoning approach would likely create limitations over time. Traditional zoning districts tend to separate land uses rigidly and assume the market will remain relatively stable. But large-scale communities do not develop all at once. They evolve over decades as housing preferences change, product-types shift, infrastructure priorities adapt, and economic conditions fluctuate. Rigid zoning frameworks often struggle to accommodate those realities.

Chris describes this approach as “market proofing” entitlement strategy; creating frameworks resilient enough to respond to changing development conditions while still preserving the long-term vision for a community.

As he puts it, “Every planner has a ‘could have been’ story. While we cannot plan for everything, it is our responsibility to use the tools available to ensure good ideas and strong projects have every opportunity to be realized.”

The 7 Land Use Character Areas (LUCA) that establish the framework for a comprehensive and flexible community plan in Solstice Foothills.

Planning in the grey

Rather than assigning every parcel to a fixed zoning category from the outset, we used a Land Use Character Area, or LUCA, framework. This approach focused more on the intended character, function, and compatibility of different areas rather than locking each location into one permanent zoning category.

In many ways, flexible zoning acknowledges an important reality in planning.

As Chris explains, “Land use and zoning code is black and white, but good planning is often done in the grey.”

Regional plans, zoning ordinances, and municipal policies often move slower than the market itself. As a result, innovative housing types, mixed-use concepts, and evolving development trends may not be fully anticipated by existing code frameworks.

The LUCA framework helped address that challenge by creating overlapping opportunities for residential development, commercial uses, civic spaces, parks, trails, and open space systems while still maintaining logical transitions and compatibility throughout the community.

This approach preserved a clear long-term vision while giving future phases enough flexibility to respond to market demand, infrastructure timing, and community needs.

Flexibility requires guardrails

Flexible zoning does not mean uncertainty, lack of accountability, or an open-ended development program. In many cases, flexible entitlement strategies require more thoughtful planning and more detailed safeguards than conventional zoning approaches.

To make flexibility workable, we paired it with clear expectations around:

Open space connectivity
Integrated trail systems
Infrastructure planning
Design quality
Transition standards between neighborhoods
Compatibility between land uses
Regulatory safeguards

Without those guardrails, flexibility can create uncertainty. With them, it can create resilience, adaptability, and trust.

This balance is especially important for municipalities. Cities need confidence that infrastructure, compatibility, phasing, and implementation will be addressed responsibly. Developers need enough flexibility to respond to changing market conditions, housing preferences, and long-term economic realities.

The strongest entitlement strategies recognize both sides of that equation.

Community engagement strengthens entitlement strategy

One of the most important lessons from Solstice Foothills was how closely community engagement and entitlement strategy intersect.

At public hearings, residents rarely respond to zoning terminology. They respond to outcomes: walkability, parks, buffers, traffic, trails, infrastructure, compatibility, perimeter protections, impacts to property values, and quality of life.

Successful conversations focus less on entitlement language and more on how people will actually experience the community and how it will impact surrounding properties.

Listening first made a significant difference.

During neighborhood outreach, nearby residents expressed concerns about lot transitions and maintaining the character of adjacent neighborhoods. Instead of applying broad restrictions across the entire project, we created targeted regulatory safeguards specific to those perimeter areas.

For example, one neighboring community had 80-foot-wide residential lots backing up to the project site. Residents were concerned about smaller lots directly behind them. In response, we incorporated standards requiring either open space or lots of comparable width along that specific portion of the perimeter.

That level of customization would have been difficult under a more rigid zoning structure.

Throughout the public process, city leaders also emphasized the importance of preserving the site’s connection to the broader identity of Goodyear. During the City Council hearing, one council member noted that the property and its legacy are “so important to the history of Goodyear,” reinforcing the idea that long-term planning must balance future growth with community character.

We have seen similar dynamics on other projects as well. One recent entitlement project, nearby equestrian residents wanted to preserve horse trail access adjacent to the development. By listening carefully, we incorporated a natural-surface multi-use trail along the perimeter. That solution addressed neighborhood concerns while strengthening the project overall. When it came time to present the project for approval to the City Council, the neighbors showed up in support of the project and complemented the team on listening and addressing their concerns.

Those conversations reinforced an important point: flexible zoning is not about doing whatever the project team wants. It is about creating a framework that can strategically respond to community concerns while still meeting the client’s goals and preserving long-term project adaptability.

In many ways, flexibility requires more collaboration, transparency, and trust, not less.

The future of zoning and entitlement strategy

Overly rigid zoning can create weaker communities over time because it assumes the future will look exactly like today. It can also assume that every project across a diverse city should be subject to identical requirements, regardless of context, location, market conditions, or community character.

That assumption becomes increasingly risky on projects with long implementation timelines.

At Solstice Foothills, the entitlement framework was intentionally designed to preserve flexibility while maintaining a cohesive planning vision and community identity.

As Amy Weidman, Vice President of Development at Harvard Investments, explained, “We wanted a framework that could evolve with the market while still maintaining a cohesive vision for the community.”

That mindset shaped the project from the beginning. The LUCA framework, integrated open space systems, evolving housing mix, and phased flexibility would have been significantly more difficult under a conventional zoning structure.

At the same time, municipalities still need certainty around infrastructure, compatibility, and implementation. That tension between certainty and adaptability is where many entitlement conversations now live. Some municipalities are becoming more open to flexible zoning approaches. Others remain cautious, particularly because highly customized zoning districts can become difficult to administer over time. That concern is understandable. Cities are balancing staffing, consistency, infrastructure planning, implementation, and long-term governance responsibilities.

Planning communities that can evolve

At RVi, we have found that the most successful projects integrate community visioning, infrastructure planning, market realities, land planning, and entitlement strategy from the beginning rather than treating them as separate or piecemeal efforts.

When those conversations happen early, projects are better positioned to adapt responsibly without losing their identity.

I believe entitlement frameworks will continue moving toward more performance-based and character-based planning approaches that prioritize outcomes, flexibility, and integrated community design over rigid land use separation.

The communities that endure will not be the ones frozen in time. They will be the ones designed with enough flexibility to evolve while still delivering a strong sense of place, long-term value, and community character.

That is what we set out to accomplish at Solstice Foothills, and it reflects where the future of entitlement strategy is headed.

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Rethinking urban value: Turning overlooked spaces into high-impact places

04/28/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Campuses, Community Development, Hospitality + Entertainment, Land Planning, Landscape Architecture, Outdoor Hospitality, Planning, Public Places, Urban Design, Urban Planning

Across cities of every size, there is a growing recognition that some of the most valuable opportunities aren’t found on blank canvases; they exist in the overlooked, the underperforming, and the in-between. Vacant lots, aging plazas, and leftover parcels are increasingly being reimagined as meaningful public places that support daily life, strengthen the city’s identity, and create lasting value and memories.

This shift we’re seeing reflects a broader evolution in how urban spaces are understood and designed. Unlocking that value is not about starting from scratch. It is about recognizing the potential in what already exists and designing with intention, flexibility, and a clear understanding of how people actually use space.

“The best urban spaces aren’t defined by what they were—they’re defined by what they can become when you understand the community around them,” says RVi’s Joel Baldin, ASLA, Director of Urban Design.

From civic plazas in Chicago to adaptive reuse destinations like The Exchange in Fort Collins, we’ve seen how constraints, context, and willingness to see things differently can create something entirely new and impactful.

Seeing opportunity where others see contraints

The foundation of reimagining underutilized urban space starts with a shift in perspective. What may appear to be a limitation, an awkward parcel, aging infrastructure, or financial constraints, often becomes the catalyst for more inventive, more resilient design solutions.

Baldin emphasizes that this process begins with listening: “Every site has a story, even the ones that feel overlooked. Our role is to uncover that story and translate it into a space that feels intentional and relevant to the people who use it.”

Rather than imposing a predetermined design language, the approach should focus on context, community input and engagement, and flexibility. Urban plazas, for example, are no longer treated as static spaces, but as adaptable environments where “cool things happen,” from performances and markets to everyday informal use.

In projects like Monroe Landing Plaza in La Porte, Indiana, we’re helping transform existing parking and part of a street into a flexible community space designed for everyday use and events. The goal is to unlock new value by aligning the space with how people actually live, gather, and connect.

This approach reframes constraints as opportunities. Budget limitations, site challenges, and existing conditions are not barriers; they are design drivers that push teams toward more creative, efficient, and ultimately more authentic solutions.

Ogden Plaza Park, City of Chicago

Designing for flexibility, everyday use, and human experience

A key characteristic of successful reimagined urban spaces is flexibility, both in design and in how people experience and define the space over time.

The Exchange in Fort Collins is a clear example of this shift. What began as a deteriorating parking lot and city block evolved into a vibrant, container-based destination that supports a wide range of uses throughout the day and across seasons.

As RVi’s Paul Mills, Regional Vice President and Principal on this project explains, “We were not trying to program every space to be something—we let it be open and let people choose their adventure.”

That philosophy reflects a broader trend in urban design. Civic open spaces are being designed to accommodate variability—movable seating, open lawns, layered gathering areas, and edges that support both activity and pause. These elements allow people to shape their own experience, whether that’s a family gathering, a casual lunch, or a community event.

Baldin reinforces this idea from an urban design perspective, “The goal isn’t to control how a space is used—it’s to create the conditions for it to be used in many different ways, over time.”

This balance between structure and openness is critical. At Logan Square Plaza in Chicago, for example, layered seating, improved pedestrian connections, and flexible open areas were designed to support both daily use and small-scale gatherings, creating a space that feels active without being overdesigned.

Ultimately, we know that flexibility ensures longevity and improves performance. Spaces that can evolve alongside community needs are more resilient, more inclusive, and more likely to remain relevant over time. They also attract foot traffic, support local businesses, and increase the overall value of the surrounding area.

Designing space for flexibility is not just a design decision. It is a strategic one.

The Exchange, Fort Collins, CO

Identity through contrast, adaptation, and storytelling

We believe that reimagined urban spaces should be expressive, not just functional. They create identity, often by embracing contrast and leaning into what makes a place unique.

This idea of contrast as a design tool is becoming more prevalent. It allows projects to acknowledge their context while also signaling something new, something contemporary, dynamic, and forward-looking.

At The Exchange, that identity is shaped through adaptive reuse. Repurposed shipping containers form the edges of the site, creating intimate, people-oriented environments while framing a more open central green. Rather than blending into the historic red-brick context of Old Town Fort Collins, the project intentionally stands apart.

As Mills noted, “It’s intentionally contrasting… a surprising element.”

Baldin sees contrast and placemaking as part of a larger storytelling approach: “Placemaking is storytelling on a grand scale. Every design decision contributes to how people understand and connect with a place.”

Public art, materiality, planting, and spatial organization all play a role in shaping that story. Whether it’s restoring visibility and safety to an underperforming plaza or introducing new layers of programming and identity, the goal remains the same: create spaces that feel authentic to their community while offering something unexpected.

Reimagined spaces can shift how those in-between places work and what they become over time.

City of Fort Collins alleyway enhancements

A new way forward: Reimagining what’s already there

Looking at overlooked or underperforming urban spaces in a new way reflects a broader change in how cities evolve, respond to new needs, and think about the role of public space.

We believe that “leftover spaces” are opportunities to create connections, support local economies, and enhance everyday life. Through a combination of thoughtful design, community engagement, and a willingness to embrace constraints, these sites are being transformed into places with purpose and staying power.

As Baldin puts it, “When you approach a project with curiosity instead of assumption, you open the door to solutions that are more creative, and more meaningful.”

From Chicago to Fort Collins and in other regions of the country, the takeaway is clear: the future of urban design is about seeing what’s already there and reimagining it into something better.

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Listening, connecting, and building through community and stakeholder engagement

03/31/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Campuses, Community Development, Community Engagement, Hospitality + Entertainment, Land Planning, Landscape Architecture, Outdoor Hospitality, Planning, Public Parks, Public Places, Urban Design, Urban Planning

Every community has a story; it’s shaped by how people gather, how they move, and how they connect to the land around them. The most meaningful places don’t happen by accident. They are shaped through listening closely, asking thoughtful questions, and designing with intention.

At RVi, engagement – ranging from stakeholder collaboration to community input – is a part of how we approach every project. Whether shaping fast-growing master planned communities or park, recreation, and open space systems, the goal is the same: to create places that feel authentic, connected, and built to last.

While community engagement is often associated with public work, stakeholder engagement plays an equally important role in shaping private development and mixed-use environments.

Across our work, we’re seeing a few consistent themes emerge in how engagement continues to shape planning and design outcomes. These insights reflect how engagement is evolving as a practice and how it adapts across different regions of the country, responding to growth, culture, and community priorities.

Rather than a single approach, these themes show up in different ways across regions and project types, but consistently influence how places are envisioned, designed, and experienced.

From feedback to vision: engagement as an early design driver

Engagement is increasingly happening before a clear vision is defined. In fast-growing markets, this shifts its role from gathering feedback to helping shape what a place could become. Rather than reacting to plans, stakeholders, residents, and future users are influencing foundational decisions – how a community connects, where people gather, and what daily life looks like.

Engagement is part of the process from early planning through design, helping ensure that outcome reflects the needs and priorities of the people they serve.

In growth states like Arizona, Texas, Florida, and the Carolinas, this often means engaging early to help define what a community could be. RVi’s work on master-planned communities such as Eastmark (Mesa, AZ) and Meridiana (Brazoria County, TX) reflects this shift. Residents and stakeholders aren’t just reacting to plans; they are helping shape them. Conversations around walkability, access to nature, and everyday gathering spaces translate directly into the framework of parks, trails, and mixed-use environments.

EastVillage (Austin, TX) illustrates how early and ongoing engagement informs not just layout, but experience, blending residential, commercial, and open space into a cohesive, people-first environment.

In more established regions like the Midwest and cities like Denver, engagement often takes on a more iterative, consensus-driven role. Projects like Garfield Park Conservatory Elizabeth Morse Genius Children’s Garden (Chicago, IL) and Central Park Playground (Denver, CO) reflect the layered nature of engagement, where park districts, residents, and stakeholders shape outcomes through multiple rounds of input, helping to ensure the final design reflects long-term community priorities

Across all regions, the most successful places are shaped by engagement from start to finish.

Meridiana Master Planned Community, Brazoria County, Texas

Designing for real use: how engagement shapes experience

Across both public and private work, engagement is becoming less about collecting input and more about understanding behavior. How people want to gather, move, and spend time is directly shaping design decisions – from amenity programming in master planned communities to the activation of public spaces and mixed-use environments.

At its core, engagement is about understanding what brings people together and designing places that make those connections easier and more natural.

In rapidly growing sun belt communities, this often shows up as highly programmed, amenity-rich environments. At Meridiana, for example, community identity is built around shared experiences, from learning-focused amenities to outdoor gathering spaces, creating opportunities for interaction from day one. Similarly, Eastmark uses a network of parks, event spaces, and trails to foster connection across neighborhoods.

Places like The Exchange (Fort Collins, CO) highlight how mixed-use environments can become social anchors, blending retail, dining, and open space into a cohesive destination that encourages both planned and spontaneous interaction.

In more established regions, particularly across the Midwest, the focus often shifts toward strengthening existing community ties. Naperville’s Riverwalk (Naperville, IL) demonstrates how revitalized public spaces can reconnect communities to their surroundings while supporting both daily use and large-scale events.

Additionally, therapeutic environments such as healthcare gardens like the Advocate Good Shepherd Hospital Integrative Medicine Garden (Barrington, IL) show how engagement can reveal deeper needs around wellness, accessibility, and inclusivity.

Across all regions, our goal is the same, to create places where people feel a sense of belonging. The most successful places support everyday use while strengthening connections across the community.

Advocate Good Shepherd Hospital Integrative Medicine Garden, Barrington, IL

Nature as common ground across communities

One of the most consistent patterns across regions is the role of nature as common ground. Regardless of project type, access to open space, trails, and natural systems creates shared experiences that bring people together. Engagement efforts often reveal a strong desire for these elements – not just as amenities, but as essential parts of daily life.

Projects like Oso Bay Nature Preserve (Corpus Christi, TX) demonstrate how natural systems, water, native landscapes, and trail networks, can anchor development and create shared experiences. These environments invite people outside, encouraging everyday interaction with both nature and one another.

Our work across park systems and open space, such as Mueller Greenways (Austin, TX) and various community trail networks reinforces the idea that accessible, well-designed landscapes can support recreation, ecological awareness, and long-term stewardship.

Across geographies, nature serves as common ground. It transcends demographics, invites participation, and creates opportunities for connection that feel both universal and deeply personal.

The Southeast Greenway at Mueller in Austin, Texas.

Community and stakeholder engagement is no longer a one-size-fits-all process, and that’s exactly what makes it powerful. The most successful approaches recognize that every community is different, shaped by growth patterns, cultural expectations, and local priorities.

From master planned communities to public places to campuses and hospitality environments, our work shows that while approaches may vary by region, the core principles remain the same: listen early, engage often, and design with people at the center.

Whether building new communities in fast-growing regions or reinvesting in established ones, thoughtful engagement leads to places that feel authentic, resilient, and connected. We see stronger, more lasting results when we work with designers, developers, and municipalities to align engagement with community priorities.

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From brownfield to brewery: How sustainable design revitalized a riverfront

02/12/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Hospitality + Entertainment, Landscape Architecture, Outdoor Hospitality, Planning

Against the backdrop of the Blue Ridge Mountains, on the banks of the French Broad River, Asheville, North Carolina is a destination for outdoor recreation, arts, and culture. While the City ranks among the highest in breweries per capita, the riverfront was historically defined by industrial uses—an aesthetic still reflected in the River Arts District, where artists and local businesses now occupy former warehouses.

New Belgium Brewing recognized the energy of the River Arts District and saw hidden potential in a dilapidated, abandoned landfill site. The community, and the opportunity to restore a contaminated site on an underutilized section of the river, caught their attention.

“New Belgium saw all this amazing creative energy down along the river and wanted to be a part of that story,” says Paul Mills, Vice President at RVi. “There were all these local, artist-driven places and they knew they could contribute to that energy and community.”

RVi’s work on New Belgium’s Asheville Brewery, brought to life one of the first major activations of the riverfront and spurred further local development, attracting small businesses and public investment alike. The site restoration not only created a lively new hub of community activity, it also helped protect the site against the devastating impacts of Tropical Storm Helene in 2024.

A vision for community

New Belgium was an early inspiration for economic development along the river. The Riverfront Parks Recovery Project will enhance local parks to a regional attraction, building on momentum and community resilience.

New Belgium came to RVi with a vision: to establish a second flagship brewery and event venue in Asheville. Over the years, Mills had led several expansions at New Belgium’s Fort Collins location. These expansions had been gradual and organic. With intentional planning, the new, 123,350 sq. ft. facility would start at scale, with a beer garden, restaurant, gathering areas, and a stage for live music.

It would also house a production and distribution facility, all while retaining the scrappy, eclectic spirit shared by the original Fort Collins location and Asheville’s River Arts District. Mills notes that the project was not about imposing a new identity on the riverfront, but about amplifying the creative culture already present.

The brewery brought new vitality to the area, supporting the City of Asheville’s goals for economic development and environmental sustainability. Virtually all of the facility’s artwork came from artists within a 3-mile radius, including tile mosaics around the brewing vessels, bar tops, and tap towers.

A partnership with the City brought investment into the environmental cleanup and supported a separate new greenway along the waterfront.

“The investments in the area brought more energy and more people,” says Mills. “Housing followed, restaurants and businesses grew along the river, and more breweries opened. The whole area became much more robust.”

Reclaiming a brownfield

More than a century of dumping had left the site covered in cars, tires, and debris, with soil samples showing contaminants of lead-based paint, petroleum, methane, and asbestos containing materials. Extensive cleanup and environmental remediation efforts went into the brownfield site restoration to remove debris, restore ecosystems, and stabilize the foundation.

“You don’t disturb a landfill, you cap it and build on top of it. Everything had to be supported on piers drilled down to bedrock. It made the project incredibly complex,” says Mills.

Driven by a deep commitment to sustainability, New Belgium prioritized recycled and reclaimed materials for construction. Teams deconstructed the landfill site, storing and cataloging approximately 14 linear miles of wood and metal for re-use during construction. In total, 82% of waste was diverted from local landfills.

“The recycling and re-use was unbelievable. Every single piece of wood we cleared, the company stockpiled and sorted it,” says Mills. “When we needed materials for the deck, for the façade, for anything, we had it there, sorted and ready to use.”

Additional focus on solar energy and sustainable irrigation helped the facility to earn LEED certification. Innovative rainwater harvesting strategies supported irrigation throughout the site, though the watering needs are minimal.

Areas that were once covered in weeds and invasive plants now feature native plantings selected for their hardiness in the local climate. Pollinators support the restoration of habitats for bees, bats, and birds. The new plantings further protect against erosion, while providing a lush backdrop for visitors to the tasting room.

With the landfill stabilized and the landscape restored, design focus turned to visitor experience and operations, and how guests, staff, and the beer itself would flow through the site. The French Broad River provided the answer.

Tucked into an elevated shoreline, the brewery welcomes visitors with a curving bridge inspired by the river itself.

Designing with the river

Mills and his team worked on the brewery campus master plan with consideration for the natural circulation of visitors and production staff. The public facing sections of the brewery sit upstream from production at a higher elevation. Guests can access the brewery directly from the river by inner tube, boat, or stand-up paddle board, or through parking lots tucked into the trees across a curving bridge approach.

“The whole inspiration came from the river,” says Mills. “People walk to the site through winding paths and flow through the entry into the main plaza. Beer production flows in the same direction as the river. Everything is intentional.”

The public area is a hub of community activity, welcoming guests year-round with events, markets, concerts, and casual gatherings. In summer months, the river becomes part of the experience, as tubers and boaters pull up along the bank, drift into the beer garden, and linger as part of the site’s daily rhythm.

Mills’ team collaborated with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) to integrate new stormwater systems, supported through a public-private partnership with the City of Asheville. A drainage ditch filled with rubble and debris became a core focus of design and was converted to a flowing stream, dubbed Penland Creek.

The creek flows beneath the bridge on the public facing entry, reducing sediment into the river and serving as a critical hydrologic feature. The team designed with the river’s natural rhythm, studying its hydraulics and hydrology to stabilize landfill soils.

Downstream from the gathering spaces, Mills’ team planned the industrial-scale logistics and truck access for the production and distribution facility—reminiscent of the site’s industrial origins, though nature had long since reclaimed the roadways to the landfill.

The production facility planning included space for an on-site water treatment plant to purify water used in beer production before returning the effluent to the river.

When the waters rose

This integration of topography, hydrology, and sustainable design would prove essential when it was tested a few years later during Tropical Storm Helene in 2024. In parts of Asheville, the French Broad River crested more than 24 feet above typical levels during the storm, shattering records set by the Flood of 1916 and causing catastrophic damage throughout surrounding communities.

The brewery’s water treatment plant, electrical panels, and a large quantity of beer in the production facility were lost to the storm. However, in comparison with the region as a whole, New Belgium’s site and public spaces remained relatively unscathed. The efforts that went into Penland Creek and strategic preservation of surrounding wetlands served to diffuse floodwaters during the storm.

“They came out of it really lucky,” Mills says. “The creek broke the velocity of the floodwaters and spread it out across the floodplain. That made a massive difference.”

Today, New Belgium’s Asheville Brewery is both a destination and a case study in how thoughtful master planning and landscape design can transform overlooked land into vibrant, activated spaces. What stood for decades as a buried liability along the French Broad River now functions as a resilient landscape, an economic engine, and a gathering place integrated with Asheville’s community and creative spirit.

The brewery’s success helped revitalize the community’s relationship with the river, sparking new investment and demonstrating that businesses can be a force for good. Perhaps most importantly, its performance during Tropical Storm Helene affirmed the long-term value of designing with nature rather than against it. In Asheville’s River Arts District, New Belgium’s brewery is helping to write the next chapter of growth and vitality.

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Shaping what’s next — Together

01/15/2026 Voice Tagged Under: Community Development, Landscape Architecture, Urban Design

Welcoming new talent to RVi

As RVi closes out 2025, we are celebrating a year defined by connection, collaboration, and meaningful growth. This year, we welcomed new teammates from Hitchcock Design Group and Talson Design, along with a number of talented individuals formerly with Manhard Consulting. These additions have energized our practice, expanded our creative reach, and strengthened our ability to serve clients across the country.

We also continued building on the momentum of 2024, when the teams from Anderson Design and Russell + Mills Studios joined RVi. These boutique studios, known for shaping distinctive landscapes across the Southwest and Colorado, have added regional expertise and fresh creative perspectives that enrich our national practice.

This chapter of growth is about more than numbers. It is about the impact we can make together. “When we talk about growth, we are really talking about impact, about the communities and clients we can now serve in bigger, better, and more meaningful ways,” said Senior Vice President of Operations, Ryan Binkowski. His words reflect the heart of this transition: growth not for scale alone, but for purpose.

By uniting our teams under one brand, clients benefit from a seamless network of planners and designers who bring decades of experience, local insight, and fresh perspectives to design places that truly matter – places that connect people to nature and to each other. Or as Hitchcock Design Group (HDG) President, Bill Inman put it, “By bringing together the talents across our combined teams, we are creating a seamless network that can meet clients where they are and support them with the full strength of our collective experience.”

RVi President Chris Crawford expands on this vision, sharing, “Uniting our teams is more than a milestone. It is a commitment to shaping places that inspire connection and elevate the everyday experience. Together, we are designing a future that reflects the needs, values, and aspirations of the communities we serve.”

Designing what connects us

This evolution is not only organizational. It is cultural and creative. Vice President of Planning for RVi, Alexis Crespo, captures this spirit well: “We have grown not simply to be bigger, but to serve better. We are creating places that connect people, purpose, and possibility, all while upholding our unwavering commitment to client care.” Her perspective reflects how our integrated team approaches every project with deeper intention and collaboration.

With expanded expertise across our four core sectors — Community Development, Public Places, Campuses, and Hospitality + Entertainment — RVi is better equipped than ever to deliver a more integrated approach to planning and design. From neighborhood parks and civic plazas to campuses and destination resorts, we help clients shape environments that foster belonging, wellness, and shared experiences.

While our reach has grown, our foundation remains the same: passion, quality, collaboration, creativity, and empathy. These values have guided RVi for more than four decades, and they continue to shape how we work, how we partner, and how we design for the future.

With a growing team and an expanded national presence, we are excited for the projects and partnerships that will shape RVi’s next chapter. As we grow in people and places, we also grow in possibility, and we look forward to deepening our impact in the communities we serve.

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The importance of investing in downtown development

11/24/2025 Voice Tagged Under: Community Development, Landscape Architecture, Urban Design

The four pillars of a successful downtown

A vibrant downtown district is the cultural heart of the city and an engine of economic vitality. It’s where the identity of place emerges and where community is celebrated. When people enjoy spending time downtown, they patronize local businesses and accelerate the local economy. Public and private investment forms a cycle of vitality when cities invest in people-places—businesses thrive, culture evolves, and tax revenues add up to reinvestment.

Successful downtown development is maintained by this state of urban symbiosis, where the inter-related threads of economics and community grow together and reinforce one another. It can be achieved through downtown planning processes rooted in a people-first mindset and authentic placemaking strategies.

“The critical objective is investing in people places, where people want to gather and are comfortable spending time,” says Craig Russell, Principal at RVi.

Russell and Will Wagenlander, Director of Planning at RVi, have worked closely with numerous municipalities, developers, and downtown development authorities (DDAs) focused on creating the conditions for communities to thrive. For both Wagenlander and Russell, a successful planning process focuses on four principles:

Pedestrian experience
Safety and comfort
Character and place
Economic vitality

With these principles in balance, capital investment becomes the catalyst for long-term development.

“When we work with DDAs on both a redevelopment plan and a user-driven plan for public investment, we’re really outlining a future for the entire downtown district,” says Wagenlander.

With the right planning, implementation, and funding strategies, the future Wagenlander describes can bear significant returns, both socially and economically.

Public investment as a catalyst for private development

Public investment draws private investment. The Town of Windsor’s downtown redevelopment planning brought developers to the table before the plan was even complete.

Public investment in downtown infrastructure can spark the cycle of sustainable development. People spend time in places that are comfortable, safe, and walkable. They can be drawn in to attractive storefronts and community spaces that highlight the city’s dynamic character. The foundation is in sidewalks and streetscaping, lighting, open spaces, and the utilities that allow businesses to function.

Investing in these assets can signal to developers that the downtown is ready to grow, attracting additional private investment. The Town of Windsor, Colorado’s downtown master planning efforts drew immediate interest.

“In Windsor, we had developers coming to the table saying, ‘hey, we want to be a part of this,’ even before the plan was finished,” says Wagenlander. “They saw the potential right away.”

Sometimes private momentum appears first. When commercial developers start projects in up-and-coming downtown settings, municipalities can add value through public-private partnerships. In these cases, the municipality recognizes the overall growth impact that the new development will bring, and steps in to fund some of the necessary infrastructure. By supporting development projects with amenities and infrastructure renewal, a municipality helps create the environment for new development to thrive, while also positioning itself to accommodate the growth.

When investing in infrastructure, public entities have the most impact when prioritizing the user experience through safe, comfortable, and walkable downtowns that inspire local spirit.

Prioritizing the pedestrian experience

A pedestrian-first mindset in the city of Fort Collins brought walkability and placemaking to the alleyways in the Alleyway Improvements project

Pedestrian experience is paramount to a vibrant downtown with sustainable economic vitality. Through wider sidewalks, patio treatments, lighting, and amenities in public spaces, municipalities can contribute to the overall sense of comfort and safety.

“The most successful public investments I’ve seen are the ones where the city comes with a pedestrian-first mindset,” says Russell.

The goal is to create spaces that reduce any type of stress for people on foot, giving them a safe, welcoming atmosphere to pause and take time, eat, linger. Including provisions for patio seating on sidewalks and activated storefronts bridges the gap between visitors and businesses, helping people become patrons.

Comfort and perceived safety goes beyond having accessible storefronts and plazas. Traffic and multimodal design should be factored into broader planning and streetscaping strategies. Prioritizing walkability does have its tradeoffs with traffic flow and street parking, but with all elements considered during the master planning stages, downtowns achieve a balance with a pedestrian-first mindset. Based on RVi community survey data across several downtown redevelopment projects, people prefer experience over parking.

“From a user standpoint, people understand that when they’re coming downtown, they’ll be parking somewhere and then walking the rest of the way,” says Wagenlander. “We’ve seen that people are okay with that. They expect it. They feel safer.”

Investment in pedestrian experience brings measurable economic impact. For example, Russell has seen long-term increases is sales tax revenue up to 30 to 50 percent, and in some instances, significantly more.

The City of Fort Collins, for example, established an ordinance prioritizing pedestrians above vehicle traffic as part of its downtown master planning.

“Essentially, the City decided that slightly slower vehicle speeds were okay because it cared more about a comfortable and rich pedestrian environment,” says Russell. “It was a big step, and when you don’t have that mindset, you see less ROI in the long run.”

With subsequent pedestrian-focused projects including the Linden Street Renovations and Downtown Alley Enhancements, the City of Fort Collins has continued to generate increasing sales tax revenue that spurs further investment in its award-winning downtown district.

Investing in authenticity

The City of Louisville showcased authentic character through adaptive re-use of remnant materials from its mining history.

A downtown plan can have several of the markers of success—walkability, attractive streetscaping, private investment, the list goes on. Without genuine character, however, districts fall flat.

“We’ve all been to these places that have a main street feel, but it’s just not the same without authenticity,” says Wagenlander.

Creating a unique experience that stays true to the fabric of the community builds genuine interest and inspires civic pride. It becomes a destination for visitors to experience, and for locals to return. With the potential to become the cultural center of the community, downtowns can reflect and elevate that character through authentic placemaking strategies. Places that leverage the history of the community in the architectural aesthetics and social context tend to attract repeat visitors.

In the example of Lousiville, Colorado, the city’s rich mining history played a major role in streetscaping and downtown aesthetics. Remnants of historic, timber-framed buildings were incorporated into design, connecting past with present to establish a unique sense of place that preserves and enhances its history.

“We’re walking the line between creating something new and highlighting the past,” says Wagenlander. “What makes that place special, but still evolving? That’s what we try to answer.”

Balancing an understanding of where a community has been, where it is now, and where it aspires to be can frame the vision that guides planning. That vision cascades into nuanced details that shape genuine experiences through things like public art, signage and wayfinding, and materials used in everything from building facades to textured sidewalks.

Weaving these principles into design guidelines helps establish a unified, but nuanced, sense of place. Unity, with the right amount of variety, it what ties places together at scale.

Development authorities to drive revitalization

Given the complexity and number of stakeholders in a downtown revitalization project, sustainable vitality benefits from a coordinated effort. This is where Downtown Development Authorities can champion the effort and balance the interests of the city, the developers, and the people. DDAs bring a focused expertise in establishing funding strategies for impactful investment.

Mill levies, tax incremental financing (TIF) districts, and commercial property taxes collect smaller investments from a variety of sources, adding up to major investment in downtown development. The city of Fort Collins is just one example where the development authority annexed a commercial property before it was developed. It ties back to the symbiotic relationship in downtown development:

“A tiny percentage of commercial property taxes added up to help pay for a lot of the new investment downtown,” says Russell. “We’ve got direct evidence that sales tax revenues increase and vacancy rates go down after the downtown improvements. Everybody wins.”

A future built around people

Investing in downtown development brings more than financial returns. It lays the groundwork for communities to flourish and new civic identities to emerge. Downtowns thrive when development centers around the four principles of pedestrian experience, safety and comfort, character and place, and economic vitality.

When these address the needs and desires of the community, while accentuating its dynamic character, it leads to a self-sustaining cycle of further investment and prosperous growth. Public investment lays the foundation, private investment brings momentum, and the guidance of DDAs sets the vision and define the path forward.

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