2013-09-06

TC Sidewalks Tour: East Lake Wok Walk on Sept. 25th

Hey, you're invited to join me in a walk through the East Lake neighborhood of Minneapolis, to look at old Chinese restaurants. 

The walk will be Wednesday September 25th at 7:00.

For some reason, the East Lake area of Minneapolis seems to be the epicenter of (what I like to call) "first-wave Chinese food." These are things like chow mein, fried egg rolls, and egg foo young, many of which you would never find in actual China.

Some of the buildings are very cool, and I'll do my best to learn some of the history of the restaurants and their owners before we go.

Here are the details from the Facebook page (feel free to RSVP there):
Psychogeographic walking tour of first-wave Chinese restaurants in the East Lake Street area of Minneapolis.

Walk is approximately 1.5 miles long (one-way). We will look at four different Chinese restaurants, and have a brief chat with legendary Twin Cities' photographer and community organizer Wing Young Huie about the history of Chinese food in America (and Minnesota).

We will meet in the plaza outside the Dunn Brothers at Lake Street and West River Road.

All are welcome. Event is free.

Best of all, one of my favorite Twin Cities'-based artists, Wing Young Huie is going to stop by to chat about the history of Chinese food in the US. Not only is Wing long thought about the challenges and rewards of Twin Cities' diversity and Asian-American culture, he's an expert on the subject of US Chinese food.

See you there!


2013-09-05

Signs of the Times #80

FOUND!!!
A REALLY NICE
FERRET

[Pole. Sent in by reader.] 


FRESH
PRINCE

[Sidewalk, South Minneapolis.]


I WAS A TEENAGE
SOCIOPATH

[Lit sign. Chicago Avenue, Minneapolis.]


NO 
HORSES
BEYOND
THIS POINT

[Fence. Outside Stillwater.]


CLOSED FOR
LABOR DAY WEEKEND
SEE YOU ON
TUESDAY

[Door. South Minneapolis.] 


SCENTED
OIL

[Sidewalk. Lake Street, Minneapolis.]



Thanks

[Garbage can. South Minneapolis.]


SHOE and LEATHER
REPAIR
BAGS - ZIPPERS - BELTS!
SPORTING GOODS
DRY CLEANING

[Sidewalk. West 7th Street, Saint Paul.]


No Littering
No Standing
No Spitting
No Urinating
No Smoking
In front of this Store.

[Door. University Avenue, Saint Paul.]

Twin City Doorways #9

[Nicollet Avenue, Minneapolis.]



[Greenwood Avenue?, Minneapolis.]



[Chicago Avenue, Minneapolis.]



[Nicollet Avenue, Minneapolis.]



[Chicago?]



[Location forgotten.]



[Duluth.]



[Victory Neighborhood, Minneapolis.]

2013-09-04

WANTED: Moveable Chairs on a Saint Paul Jail

[The old Ramsey County jail as seen from the Wabasha Bridge.]
One of the more interesting spots you'll find in downtown Saint Paul is right at the top of the Wabasha Freedom Bridge, along the river bluff just across the street from City Hall.

The sidewalk opens up in odd ways right to form three red brick plazas along the riverfront. There's some odd infrastructure, like a loading dock, a doorway, and the top of an elevator. And most strikingly, there are lovely views of the river valley and Saint Paul's West Side.

But the strangest thing about the space is that you're standing on the rooftop of an old jail. Beneath your feet, abandoned jail cells are literally embedded into the face of the cliff. The building is the old Ramsey County jail, where inmates had amazing views of the Mississippi River. The other day, I was chatting with a long-time Saint Paul resident about the old jail, and he told me a story. Back in the 80s, inmates girlfriends would sometimes stand on the edge of the Wabasha Street bridge and flash their incarcerated boyfriends across the way. The whole jail would cheer, noses pressed against the glass.

Today, while the plaza provides amazing views of the river valley, it remains strangely lifeless. It's a shame made more poignant every week or so, when food trucks park here along Kellogg Boulevard. Somehow, despite having a plaza right next to a river, and despite having dozens of people with food in their hands, it doesn't seem to get much use. The main problem? There's nowhere to sit. There's no shade. There are no tables... There is little more than a solitary metal sculpture on a promontory surrounded by a few planters.

Oh, and flags. Lots of American flags.
[Part of the jailtop plaza.]


[One of the alienating plazas; very gulag-y.]


William Whyte to the Rescue

[A guy sitting and eating on a rusty staircase.]
William Whyte is the founder of placemaking. He was a famous urban writer and designer who became famous for thinking about plazas in downtown New York City. He devoted many years to describing how to make them useful and popular through the group that he started, the Project for Public Spaces.

(Sidenote: he also thought downtown Saint Paul sucked.)

The way that Whyte saw it, plazas are pretty simple. People enjoy watching other people. People like sitting down, sometimes in the shade. People like food and water. It's not rocket science.

But here's one lesson that seems to be lost on many folks today. People like to have some control over their street furniture. Whyte was particularly fond of moveable chairs. Here's the clip from his wonderful documentary, the Social Life of Small Urban Spaces, where he describes moveable chairs:






(You should watch the whole thing later sometime. There's even brief footage of the IDS center from the early 80s.)

The famous place for Whyte's moveable furniture experiment is Bryant Park in New York City. It's a medium sized grassy park right next to the main downtown library. The city added lovely green tables and chairs, all completely moveable, and it's become one the nicest place in Midtown. Today, moveable chairs are all over Manhattan, right in the middle of Broadway.



[Whyte's famous moveable chairs in Bryant Park.]

[Moveable tables and chairs in Times Square.]





Just Do It

[Three lonely and unmoveable tables.]
The concern that you always hear about anything moveable is that it might be stolen or vandalized. But that's a viscous cycle. The more you turn your downtown into "defensible space" immune to tampering, the more you make it cold, inflexible, and alienating.

(For example, one of the jailtop plazas has fixed tables that are most often empty.)

Similarly, to provide security is often more expensive than the initial cost of the chairs and tables in the first place. The total budget for some movable tables and chairs would be less than the annual maintenance of a single stoplight.

The other reaction I've gotten about improving Saint Paul's unused plazas is that the space is going to be redeveloped and greatly improved in the future. To that I say, how long from now? How many years will it sit comatose while we wait for a magic developer to improve our sidewalks?

At a certain point, it just makes sense to trust people to be decent citizens, to trust that you'll have enough "eyes on the street" to maintain a minimum of civic life. The gesture alone is worth making.

Have a seat, Saint Paul. You deserve it.

[Lots of people standing around with food truck food.]

[A guy eating off a ledge; two women perched somewhat awkwardly.]

[Some friends of mine brought chairs to the plaza the other day, and lo and behold, people sat in them.]



2013-09-03

In Praise of Street Trees

Extreme heat brings out a new side to the city. In the heat, you are alive to the dynamics of inside and outside, movement and rest, invisible or irrelevant most of the time. Walks become longer. Clothes become shorter, their lifespans also abbreviated.

For some, the city seals up. Our bodies acclimatize to cool interiors, windows seal, shades are drawn. Cars are air bubbles traveling through space.

Mostly we squint at the outside world, peering through venetian blinds at the harsh glare.

But to step out into the hot city and run or walk or ride through the air seems alien. Why would you go out there? Like stepping foot on Mars.

And it is. Walking the hot summer city can be arduous. The variables are relatively simple: most movement produces sweat; a breeze evaporates your skin and cools your body; and most of all, a small patch of shade can make all the difference in the world. Walking the hot city is seeking the right mix, the perfect spot out of the sun and in the right wind.

And that's where trees come in. A well treelined street is a balm on a hot summer day. A treeless street is brutal.

Riding a bicycle along the roadway, I find myself stopping in the small patches of shade. I wait for the light to change while clinging to the tree shadow like a life preserver.

When else do you notice the precise line where shade begins?  In the heat, trees are alive in a new way. You feel them soaking up the sun, the shadow on your skin. They are tall green parasols that we all can share.

Let us all praise famous trees.