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from geekgirlworld.com
…you could give free money to everyone else assuming some of that money would be deposited in banks and/or used to pay down debt owed to those banks.
denny hall, the uw campus's oldest building
luna park, west seattle; deran ludd collection via vintageseattle.org
The Alaskan Way Viaduct is going away.
In its place on and near Seattle’s central waterfront, some big ideas have been proposed. Ideas for wide expanses of concrete and sod, creating more of the same tasteful boredom that plagues many of our new or redesigned public spaces.
I prefer a human-scale vision for the waterfront’s future. The People’s Waterfront Coalition offered such a vision in 2006.
But I’d add something to it.
Something that builds on the waterfront assets we’ve already got. Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, Ivar’s, the Miners Landing carousel.
In other words, the kitsch.
Lots of people who aren’t politicians or landscape architects like kitsch.
It’s fun. It adds life. It replenishes the spirit.
My idea of a “people’s waterfront” would include an active entertainment area. My inspirations are pre-Trump Atlantic City, England’s Blackpool, West Seattle’s old Luna Park, and, yes, Coney Island.
Pier 62-63 has to be rebuilt anyway. Let’s rebuild it as a great old-fashioned amusement pier. Call it the Puget Pleasure Pier, or “P Cubed.”
A big one, perhaps twice as large as the current 62/63. It would extend south to the Seattle Aquarium and north to the Bell Harbor marina.
At its end would be a big, brightly lit Ferris wheel, shining out toward the bay.
On its north side, as spectacular a roller coaster as can fit in the space.
On its south side, smaller rides and attractions including kid-sized ones.
In the center, under a colorful roof, carny and arcade games and concessions.
Everywhere, laughter and shrieks and enthralled folk of all ages. It would not just replace the mourned Fun Forest but outshine it.
It would all be publicly owned, but leased to private operators as a profit center for the Seattle parks system and/or the overall waterfront rebuild.
You ask, but what about the rainy season?
Outdoor amusement parks in New Jersey and Wisconsin operate profitably on a seasonal basis. And their winters are far more extreme than ours. Wild Waves is open weekends until Halloween. The Fun Forest’s rides opened for spring break; its indoor arcade operated year round. Our P Cubed could have a similar mix of warm-weather and all-weather activities.
The P Cubed would not be upscale. It would not be laid back. It would not be world class.
It would just be fun.
And it would make money, and generate foot traffic to the Aquarium and the rest of the area. But mostly it would be fun.
Don’t we all deserve some fun these days?
(Cross-posted at Citytank.org.)
1931 model bookmobile, from historylink.org
scene from antiwar protest downtown, march 2003
After all the recycled bluster about the police and the firefighters and especially the troops, about the valiant politicians and the flag waving celebrities, about the need to never forget the horrible day which begat the horrible decade of the endless wars and the mass intimidation and the institutionalized fear mongering and the ugly racism and the corruption of democracy, what more is to be said?
Quite a bit.
We can remember the World Trade Center’s Seattle architect, Minoru Yamasaki (1912-1986). His local works include Puget Sound Plaza, Rainier Square, the Pacific Science Center, and the IBM Building (based on his early WTC design work).
Yamasaki didn’t live to see the towers attacked. But he knew the consequences of war-inspired fear and prejudice.
It was only the intercession of an early employer, and the fact that he was working in the northeast at the time, that got him exempted from the WWII internment of western Americans of Japanese ancestry.
We can remember the opportunities for international cooperation to build a safer world. And how those opportunities were deliberately quashed by the Bush-Cheney regime.
We can remember the Patriot Act, the TSA, the “total information awareness” domestic eavesdropping scheme, the media’s ignoring of an initially strong antiwar movement, and all the big and little ways the regime waged war on its own citizens.
We can remember the Americans troops still in harm’s way in Afghanistan and, yes, in Iraq. And those who didn’t make it back. And those who are back home but seriously harmed physically and psychologically, and who have received insufficient care.
We can remember the thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis who had nothing to do with the original attacks but died in the ensuing wars and occupations.
We can remember we still need exit strategies from both occupations, strategies that will protect Iraqis and Afghanis of all sexes and ethnicities.
We can remember the terrible damage wrought on the U.S. budget by war spending, combined with the millionaires’ tax cuts and the rest of the neocon economic misadventure.
And remembering all that, we can say, yes, “never again.”
Never again will we be manipulated by fear, either by foreign civilians or by our own leaders.
Never again will we let peace and reason be treated as dirty words.
Never again will we invade first and ask questions later.
Never again will we strike against entire nations over the horrendous crimes of a few dozen individuals (most of whom had never lived in either invaded nation).
Never again will we allow fear of “Islamic” fundamentalist repression to become an excuse for “Christian” fundamentalist repression.
Never again will we sacrifice our freedoms under the excuse of protecting them.
illo to hugo gernsback's story 'ralph 124C41+,' from davidszondy.com
As we approach the Century 21 Exposition’s 50th anniversary, Seattle magazine asked a bunch of local movers, shakers, and thinkers what one thing they’d like to see this city build, create, or establish. Contributors could propose anything at any cost, as long they described one thing in one paragraph.
This, of course, is in the time honored local tradition of moaning about “what this town needs.”
In my experience, guys who start that sentence almost always finish it by desiring an exact copy of something from San Francisco or maybe New York (a restaurant, a nightspot, a civic organization, a public-works project, a sex club, etc.).
But this article’s gaggle of imaginers doesn’t settle for such simplistic imitation.
They go for site specific, just-for-here concepts.
Some of the pipe dreams are basic and obvious:
Other dreamers dream bigger:
•
As for me, I could be snarky and say that what this town needs is fewer people sitting around talking about what this town needs.
But I won’t.
Instead, I’ll propose turning the post-viaduct waterfront into a site for active entertainment.
We’ve already got Myrtle Edwards Park and the Olympic Sculpture Park for passive, meditative sea-gazing and quiet socializing.
The central waterfront should be more high-energy.
Specifically, it should be a series of lively promenades and “amusement piers.”
Think the old Fun Forest, bigger and better.
Think pre-Trump Atlantic City.
Think England’s Blackpool beach.
Heck, even think Coney Island.
A bigass Ferris wheel. A monster roller coaster. Carny booths and fortune tellers. Outdoor performance stages and strolling buskers. Corn dogs and elephant ears. People walking and laughing and falling in love. Some attractions would be seasonal; others would be year-round. Nothing “world class” (i.e., monumentally boring). Nothing with “good taste.” Everything that tastes good.
atlantic city steel pier, from bassriverhistory.blogspot.com
SIDEBAR: By the way, when I looked for an online image to use as a retro illustration to this piece, I made a Google image search for “future Seattle.” Aside from specific real-estate projects, all the images were of gruesome dystopian fantasies. I’ll talk about the current craze for negative futurism some time later.
619 western's exterior during the 'artgasm' festival, 2002
In CityArts, Vito’s and Hideout bar and Vital 5 Productions mogul Greg Lundgren says he wants to create “Walden Three,” a “stadium of the arts” in a “vacant building directly across from the Seattle Art Museum.”
He means the old Seven Seas Hotel building (where the Lusty Lady had been).
While that building’s facade should be kept (even if it doesn’t qualify for landmark status), the now totally unoccupied building (which straddles the steep hillside between First Avenue and Post Alley) could indeed hold the 25,000 square feet of space Lundgren envisions as…
A place where artists and thinkers can train, compete, experiment and perform. A beehive that can electrify our creative class and inspire its audience. An urban station that can constantly produce creative content.
It’s good, nay vital, to have art-making spaces. We need to keep replenishing and replacing the ones we lose (cf. 619 Western).
But Lundgren wants more than studio spaces and a contemporary-arts gallery in a high profile storefront location.
He wants cross-genre programming, and workshops, and performances, and multimedia events, and ongoing efforts to promote and publicize creative work.
And he wants to make a documentary film about it all. A big documentary film. One that would cover 10 years of the space’s development and operations.
Indeed, one of Lundgren’s plans is to budget the entire project, from the building remodel/restoration to the exhibits and workshops, as a film shoot, with the Seven Seas building as its “set.”
But if anybody in the local arts scene can put this ambitions scheme together, he can.
from buzzfeed.tumblr.com
…It would involve more, not less, government spending… rebuilding our schools, our roads, our water systems and more. It would involve aggressive moves to reduce household debt via mortgage forgiveness and refinancing. And it would involve an all-out effort by the Federal Reserve to get the economy moving, with the deliberate goal of generating higher inflation to help alleviate debt problems.
pride parade viewers at the big popsicle
(A relatively long edition this time, bear with.)
You still have a chance to view the five “MadHomes” along Bellevue Avenue E. They’re open to the public until this Sunday, Aug. 7, noon to 7 p.m. each day.
These house-sized art installations are the brainchild of Alison Milliman. Her organization, MadArt, is dedicated (according to its web site, madartseattle.com) “to bring art into our lives in unexpected ways, and to create community involvement in the arts.”
MadArt curated last year’s sculpture show in Cal Anderson Park and a store-window art display in Madison Park.
But MadHomes vastly outscales either of those projects.
The show’s contributing artists have taken the outsides of the four houses and the insides of three of them (one was still occupied as a residence), plus their front yards and side setbacks, as a three-dimensional canvas, as a setting for “site specific” and interactive works meant to last only three weeks.
And because the houses are going away (to be replaced by a long-delayed condo project). the artists didn’t have to leave the structures the same way they found them.
This meant Allan Packer, one of the show’s artists, could cut holes in floors, walls, and ceilings, from which his cut-out animal figures emerge to greet visitors (as aided by large mechanical devices mainly hidden in the basement).
It also meant Meg Hartwig could freely nail big wood scraps to both a house and to a tree in front of it (which will also be lost to the condo project).
You’ll also see a lot of work that plays in less “invasive” ways with its setting.
These include the SuttonBeresCuller trio’s “Ties That Bind,” comprising 12,000 feet of red straps winding back and forth through one house and along a setback to a second house, creating a labyrinth through the side yard.
They also include Troy Gua’s “Chrysalis (Contents May Shift In Transit),” in which one house has been entirely covered in shrink wrap with a giant bar code sticker.
There are also pieces that could theoretically be re-installed elsewhere upon MadHomes’ conclusion.
One of these is Allyce Wood’s “Habitancy.” She’s mounted “tension-wound” string on and between upstairs walls in one of the houses, depicting silhouettes of imagined former occupants (including at least one dog).
Another is Laura Ward’s “Skin.” Ward painted one of the houses with latex rubber, then peeled it off, then stitched those molded pieces into a smaller replica of the house, placed over a tent-like frame.
None of this would have been possible without the gracious cooperation of the houses’ current owner, the development company Point32. That company’s going to turn the quarter-block into one long three-story building and an adjoining six-story building at the lot’s north side. The project will adjoin and incorporate the existing Bel Roy Apartments at the northeast corner of Bellevue and East Roy Street.
MadHomes has also drawn the approval of the lot’s previous owner, Walt Riehl. He happens to be an arts supporter and a member of the Pratt Fine Arts Center’s board.
Besides being a fun and creative big spectacle, MadHomes means something.
It’s a call for more whimsy and joy in the everyday urban landscape.
Especially now that the new-construction boom has resumed after a two-plus year pause, at least on Capitol Hill.
So many of the big residential and mixed-use projects built on the Hill in the previous decade lack these very elements.
Oh sure, a lot of them are all modern and upscale looking, with clean lines, snazzy cladding, and exterior patterns that make every effort to hide the buildings’ boxy essences.
But there’s something missing in a lot of these places. That something could be described as adventure, delight, or fun.
I’m not asking for huge conceptual art components, of a MadHomes scale, installed into every new development. That wouldn’t be practical.
But there could be little touches that attract a passing eye and give a momentary lift to a tired soul.
POSTSCRIPT: Eugenia Woo sees MadHomes as not a temporary artistic triumph but an urban preservation defeat. At the blog Main 2 (named for an old Seattle telephone exchange), Woo states that the homes, while under-maintained in recent years, could and should have been kept:
Everyday (vernacular) houses for everyday people represent Seattle’s neighborhoods. The drive for increase urban density does not always have to come at the price of preservation and neighborhood character.
(Cross posted with the Capitol Hill Times. Thanks to Marlow Harris of SeattleTwist.com.)
Thursday was “Last Thursday” at the beloved 619 Western art studios. This low-key ending came after 30 years of magic and memories (including two events curated by this web-correspondent), and about a year of wrangling with the city and the state. (The latter wants to drill its viaduct replacement tunnel under the building, and claims the 1910 warehouse structure’s too unsound, in its current condition, to withstand being dug under.)
The 100-some tenants in the building’s six floors thought they had an agreement to get out of the building by next February, while the city offered relocation assistance. Any hope of actually preserving 619 for artists, during or after any rehab, seemed to dissolve away during these negotiations.
Then, earlier this month, came the surprise. The city decided the whole place was just too unsafe even for short-term occupancy. Everybody had to be out by October 1. Public events in the building were banned effective Aug. 1.
One final “First Thursday” was hastily scheduled, retitled “Last Thursday.”
One last chance to ride Seattle’s third coolest elevator.
One last chance to pay respects to the memory of Su Job, the building’s heart and soul for so many years.
One last chance to admire the familiar rickety stairwells.
One last chance to admire, and buy, locally-produced art in the corridors and the studios. (Only some of the building’s spaces were open this final night. Many tenants were already packed or packing up.)
Yes, 619’s got structural damage.
Yes, it needs shoring up, even if the tunnel project’s stopped.
And maybe its occupants would have to split the premises during a rehab, if not sooner.
But it still didn’t have to go down like this.
And I still want the place preserved, as an artist space.
(Some artists will sell their wares outside 619 next First Thursday, Aug. 4. That same evening, a tribute show to the building, Works of History: 30 Years of Anarchy, opens at Trabant Coffee, 602 2nd Ave.)
menu screen from 'mickey, donald, goofy: the three musketeers'
seen outside the capitol hill block party