to each his enclave

trevor sent in these thoughts for your perusal and comment.

"I had something in mind in class the other day that I didn't get around to talking about, so I wanted to post it on the blog to see if anyone had anything to say.

"When we were talking about walling off vs. being walled off - the inside-out vs. outside-in idea - I really liked Jen's analogy to prisons. It almost perfectly sums up the idea behind sequestering a certain social class - like the tenements in [Jacob Riis’ book], or the favelas in the documentary we saw [news from a personal war] - in order to make the public space more comfortable, or secure, or safe. To take the favelas for example, we look at what's going on in the area - dealers are constantly getting into confrontations with the police. Granted that particular city was a little different because of the corruption of the police force, but in places like those favelas or the tenements, people are more desperate to find ways to get by, and often end up getting in trouble. Here's the thing - in most places in the world - where do people go when they get into trouble with the police? They go to prison. It's almost like there are varying degrees of sequestering the people society is uncomfortable with. First they're walled off, in their own part of town... a favela or tenement, for example. Then, if they continue to make the rest of society (for lack of a better term) uncomfortable, they're downgraded to a more secure walled-in area - a prison.

"It also seems to me like Caldeira [in “fortified enclaves: the new urban segregation”] provides an explanation for some of the solidarity we saw in the favelas in the documentary. She says (in the middle of p. 88 for those that are interested) that "the image that confers the highest status and is most seductive is that of an enclosed and isolated community, a secure environment in which one can use various facilities and services and live only among equals." Of course they don't have the same security in the favelas that the homeowners in Sao Paulo do - on the contrary, they're usually trying to fend off the police, which invades their territory regularly. But they all stick together, and by sticking together, they manage to keep others out pretty well. Even the police (think of when the whole group followed the police when they took the young boy in the documentary). What the armed guards are to the walled-in homeowners, the people of the favelas are to each other. They can, like Caldeira says, live only among equals. and that's a symbol of status.

"Status, then, doesn't have to be about economic wealth, or prestige, or luxury. it can be about a feeling of ownership. Inside the favelas, the police technically have authority, but they don't have the status, because they don't feel like they own the area.

"Just some thoughts. If anyone has anything to add or rebut, have at it... "

walls in sao paulo

this week in class we are reading about walls, notably walls in sao paulo which teresa caldeira contrasts with how walls are used in, for example, los angeles. i have scanned a few of the pictures from her book to help illustrate her point. click on the pictures for a larger version; unfortunately even the originals are pretty low quality.

the frightful leveller hits a bump

rosie m. contributes this link to a story about a cafe in kirkland at which payment is voluntary. there are no prices at the terrabite cafe, and if you decide to give money you slip it into a black box--no one sees how much you give.

so far the "experiment" is doing pretty well, though one customer "is skeptical voluntary payment would work in larger, more anonymous places like Seattle, but in Kirkland "there's a social standard."" the owner describes his cafe as a venture to "skim the froth off the high-end economy and spread it around a little."

small world after all

leif w. brings this timely example of city-in-miniature representation to our attention (photo: J. Fornabaio for the ny times, from their site). tim mitchell's examination of the practices of representation surrounding egypt in the colonial era notes the effects of world's fair panoramas and dioramas in habituating viewers to approach the world as a representation. the new york times published friday (feb 2nd 2007) an interesting pair of articles on an exhibition centering on the work of robert moses, aka new york's baron haussmann. while the exhibition evidently rehabilitates moses and lays much of the blame for his policies on the technological requirements of the automobile, you may want to have a look at what they say. bear in mind that despite the unintentionally poorly-worded claim that the exhibit "doesn’t shy away from Moses’ dark side" this article neglects to mention well-known aspects of the robert moses story, such as the fact that over two hundred overpasses on the long island expressway were built extra-low on his orders. once he had also vetoed an extension of the long island railroad, this meant that neither trains nor public busses (which, as he knew, were too tall to fit under the overpasses) could make the trip out to jones beach. the acclaimed 'public' park was preserved for those who owned cars--notably affluent white folks. (for fuller accounts, see caro's the power broker, or read the short gloss in winner's the whale and the reactor.)

an accompanying article in the times describes the panorama pictured above. originally created for the 1964 world's fair,

"The model was built with incredible topological and architectural accuracy. Its roughly 895,000 tiny buildings, streets, parks and bridges are made mostly of wood and plastic and all built to scale, from bridge length to park acreage to skyscraper height."

the restored model features modeling of the sun's illumination and an audio ambiance to set the mood. it is reputedly the world's largest miniature model (ahem) of a city.

feel the art

i noted below that seattle's sculpture park demigods have determined in their wisdom that we must not touch the art. it turns out that not everyone agrees. for instance:

"[I]t's so tough you can sit on it, write on it, pee on it. 'I mean you can graffiti the [bleep] out of it. There's not much you can do to hurt it.'"

so says... the sculptor. serra is the artist who created the largest piece in the park (wake). asked whether he was bothered by kids using one of his installations as a skateboard ramp, he replied:

"Look, I'm not precious about my work, " Serra said. "I think when you put it in the public, it has to survive on its own. [...] And if it's going to be seen as art, that's one thing. If it's going to be seen as an extension of a graffiti wall or a kids' playground, that's another. But neither of those offend me."

sounds like serra is down with practice. you can read more about this in the column from which i pulled these quotes, by danny westneat at the seattle times.