The City as Museum, Part 1

When rainbow crosswalks were installed at the intersection of 18th and Castro, neighborhood groups and locals alike applauded the infrastructure as a symbol of the enduring LGBT presence and general cultural acceptance in San Francisco. In fact, much of the Castro Streetscape Improvement Project featured elements that sought to commemorate LGBT history via sidewalk plaques and inscribed neighborhood factoids. These installations came especially at a time when, among many of the rapid demographic changes happening in the city, some are lamenting the “heterosexualization” of the Castro, and perhaps the city at large. While there’s no actual demographic evidence of this change (and, just to note, SF still ranks as the the queerest city in the U.S.), its worth noting the phenomenon at play here.

The idea that urban infrastructure, namely that which is on or visible from the street, can properly retain a group’s neighborhood presence is no stranger to Bay Area locals. Talk of “preserving neighborhood character”-- San Francisco’s prefered euphemism for maintaining two- to three-story density in residential neighborhoods-- has become coded into civic discussion like the grammar that binds it. It is important to note, however, that the evidence has yet to conclude whether these structures and streetscapes will preserve neighborhood character of any kind. In the case of density controls and architectural preservation, San Francisco has walked into the same trap that Paris has; both places, obsessed with an idealized image of the dollhouse city-- be it Haussmanian or Victorian-- have prevented any ability for neighborhoods to grow, despite that population rates continue upward, even faster than expected. Put simply, we’ve capped our housing even as thousands flock to the Paris of the West. So we’ve preserved these beautiful dollhouses, but not the cultural vibrancy that once made them lively.

Back to the Castro.

I don’t think it’s fair to say that rainbow crosswalks preserve LGBT culture on Castro any more than Dia de Los Muertos-inspired tree grates preserve Mexican culture on Valencia Street; in fact, given the latter example, it would be more accurate to say that such commemorative infrastructure has a tendency to induce cultural amnesia. Photographs may not capture one’s soul for eternity, but there’s no quicker way to capture the soul of a community than to commemorate it with literal kitsch. This is the crux of Disneyfication-- reduce, sugar-coat, package, and produce-- and we as a culture make this mistake all the time. I’m not the first to point out that the authenticity of those rainbow crosswalks seems to fade within a very short period of observation.

The problem at play here is more than just the cheapening effect of cliche gay iconography, but a pattern of kitsch permeating the urban landscape. It following the footsteps of kitsch culture, seeking to capture and tame its objects, lifeforms, and imagery, preserving them in vitrine ecosystems so that they can be digested and consumed by the general public. This is what’s happened in Castro: the complex and turmoiled history of lesbian, gay, and transgendered San Franciscans is reduced to a sanitized product ready for mass consumption; almost as an attempt so austere as to ungracefully position itself as the official "gay mecca" of the world.

It remains to be seen how these crosswalks will be viewed in decades to come, but it’s possible that their relevance might not last until the next time these crumbling streets need repaving.