After a weekend walk around San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, I wanted to learn more about its history. All I really knew about it was that it became a bohemian haven in the late 1960s and has morphed into a more commercial version of its hippie past since then. It’s a place that has lots of murals and other interesting street art: stencils on the sidewalks, colorfully painted homes and businesses, eye-catching window displays, and more. Even now during the COVID pandemic, the area has some life and vibrancy as people window shop and hang out on Haight Street. And sadly, like many areas of San Francisco, it has a lot of homeless people and other folks who are down on their luck.
Colorful building on Haight Street, November 2020. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
Sign for the Wasteland consignment shop on Haight Street, November 2020. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
Early History
The earliest people who lived in the region that is now San Francisco were Native Americans, the Ramaytush Ohlone, who were part of a larger group of the Ohlone/Costanoan peoples. The land where Haight-Ashbury now lies was mostly sand dunes and was not a hospitable area for Native Americans to settle. The Spanish who came later to what is now California did not gravitate to this part of the region either, with its sandy expanses and often cool, foggy weather.
Nineteenth Century Development
The 1849 Gold Rush brought American prospectors and settlers to the region, where the original small town of Yerba Buena, later named San Francisco, rapidly grew. Like the Ohlones and Spanish before them, the Forty-Niners didn’t settle in most of the central and western parts of what is now San Francisco, including the future site of Haight-Ashbury. In addition to the sandy soil and fog, the area was not convenient to the waterfront, where most of San Francisco’s early growth occurred. Over time, some farms and “ranches” and a few scattered houses dotted the land that is now the Haight.
An 1864 map of San Francisco, looking west from the waterfront. I’ve circled what I think is the current site of Haight-Ashbury in red.
The development of Golden Gate Park in the 1870s brought more visitors and residents to central and western parts of San Francisco. By the 1880s, cable cars made travel through what is now Haight-Ashbury easy. Many cable car lines to Golden Gate Park terminated at or near the main pedestrian entrance to the park at Haight and Stanyan streets. With the influx of visitors, pool halls, taverns, restaurants, livery stables, hotels, boarding houses, bicycle shops, and other businesses sprang up near the intersection. Cable car lines and better land grading and building techniques of the 1890s and early 20th century allowed Haight-Ashbury to grow into a suburban residential upper middle class homeowners’ district, with a few pockets of large homes of the rich and elite.
Golden Gate Park entrance, looking north at cable car line, some time between 1889 and 1894, Stanyan and Haight Streets. Photo: OpenSFHistory.org wnp37.03316.
Early attractions in the neighborhood were The Chutes, an amusement park located on Haight Street between Cole and Clayton streets between 1895 and 1902, and the Haight Street Grounds stadium, built for California League baseball, which opened in 1887. In addition to League baseball games, the Grounds also hosted football games for University of California, Berkeley, and Stanford University in the early 1890s, before either had their own stadiums. The Grounds hit hard times with the Depression of 1893 and closed in 1895. The land was sold and redeveloped for residences.
Postcard of The Chutes, date unknown.
An 1893 real estate map of the Haight-Ashbury area looking south from The Panhandle park. The Grounds can be seen just left of center. Golden Gate Park is to the right. Photo from the Barry Lawrence Ruderman Map Collection, Stanford University.
1900 to Mid-Twentieth Century
Haight-Ashbury was one of the few neighborhoods of San Francisco spared from the devastating earthquake and subsequent fires of 1906. Many people who lived elsewhere in the city who were displaced from their homes found shelter in the Haight in hotels on Stanyon Street. Less fortunate families stayed in tent villages in Golden Gate Park and The Panhandle. Many of these refugees decided to make the Haight-Ashbury their permanent home. A post-earthquake building boom saw the creation of many new residences, often tract houses and flats built for the lower-middle and middle classes.
1906 refugees at Page and Stanyan streets. Photo from FoundSF.org.
An 1891 photo of a block of five tract houses at the corner of Page and Ashbury streets (shown from behind, as viewed from Oak Street). Photo copied from Hoodline.com.
By the 1910s, the Haight had many businesses, street car lines, schools, and hospitals and was a vibrant community. In 1924, a San Francisco columnist wrote “There is a comfortable maturity about the compact little city that San Francisco knows as Haight Ashbury. … just weathered enough to be nice, and new enough to be looking ahead to the future.” However, the good times didn’t last, as the Great Depression of 1929 to 1939 brought hardship. Many Haight-Ashbury residents with means moved to the suburbs. The bad economy, along with redlining in San Francisco, contributed to further decline of the Haight. Many of the old homes were divided into flats or converted into boarding houses, and by the ’40s and ’50s, much of the neighborhood was in disrepair, with some buildings vacant.
Haight Street between Ashbury and Clayton, looking west, 1944. Photo: San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library.
The Birth of the Haight’s Boho Culture
In the 1950s, a freeway was proposed that would have run through The Panhandle, but public protests in the ’50s and early to mid ’60s prevented the project from happening. Because the nearby Haight area was already economically depressed and became more so due to fears of how a freeway would impact the neighborhood, cheap rents and vacant properties attracted ’50s beatniks and, later, artists and hippies. This burgeoning alternative culture flourished. By the mid-1960s, the Haight’s counterculture brought nationwide media attention.
The first ever head shop, Ron and Jay Thelin’s Psychedelic Shop, opened on Haight Street in 1966. The Thelins felt that psychedelic drugs were they key to peace and equality and that people needed a supportive, positive environment in which to experience them. The Psychedelic Shop would be that place. Because of the Haight’s widespread drug use, “Gonzo” journalist Hunter S. Thompson labeled the area “Hashbury” in a New York Times Magazine article. The Haight was alive with musicians and other creatives, such as Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother and the Holding Company, The Grateful Dead, and actor Peter Coyote, who in the ’60s was a member of “The Diggers,” a local anarchist activist group that did street theater.
The Grateful Dead on Haight Street in the late ’60s.
Haight Street in the ’60s. Photo from Buzzfeed.
Inspired by the Diggers’ activism, a group of University of California, San Francisco medical students opened the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic. The clinic, which was the first nonsectarian free medical clinic in the United States, declared health care a right for all and also helped transform how drug addiction is treated. The clinic still serves the uninsured today. Similarly, the nearby Huckleberry House (founded in 1967 and still operating) transformed how support services are provided to homeless young people.
The Summer of Love, in 1967, attracted a wide range of people to Haight-Ashbury, including teenagers and college students drawn by the dream of a countercultural utopia, spiritual groups, runaways, middle-class tourists, and even partying military personnel from nearby bases. College students with no intention of “dropping out” played hippie for the summer. Hundreds of young runaways wandered the streets. The Haight could not accommodate the rapid influx of people, and the neighborhood scene quickly deteriorated.
The “Death of the Hippie” street theater event and procession put on by The Diggers and Psychedelic Shop owner Ron Thelin, 1967. Haight residents were upset by the widespread media coverage of the hippie movement and the infiltration of Haight-Ashbury by so many new people. According to Thelin, “It must all go—a casualty of narcissism and plebeian vanity. … [Haight-Ashbury] was portioned to us by the media-police, and the tourists came to the zoo to see the captive animals, and we growled fiercely behind the bars we accepted, and now we are no longer hippies and never were.”
By the early 1970s, Haight-Ashbury had said goodbye to many of the early creatives and hippies. Through the ’70s, the Haight saw urban blight, prostitution, hard drugs, and street violence while still retaining an air of bohemian nostalgia. The late ’70s saw many gay San Franciscans and others buying and fixing up cheap properties in the Haight, bringing new life to the area. Sami Sunchild obtained ownership of The Red Victorian, a historic building on Haight Street that Sunchild transformed into The Red Victorian Bed and Breakfast Peace Center, a B&B and spiritual center. Today, the Red Vic is a hostel, cafe, and residence.
The “Red Vic” in 2008. Photo by Bernard Gagnon.
The 1980s brought more commercial prosperity to the Haight, with new boutiques, used clothing stores, coffee shops, bookstores, and galleries that peddled sixties nostalgia to college students and tourists. The area also became an epicenter for the San Francisco comedy scene when The Other Café became a full-time comedy club and helped launch the careers of Robin Williams, Whoopie Goldberg, and Dana Carvey, among others.
Sadly, the AIDS epidemic of the ’80s and early ’90s resulted in many of the Haight’s gay residents dying or leaving, leaving Haight businesses to cater to a younger and straighter clientele. The ’80s also saw skinheads as a presence in the Haight. Through the 1980s and ’90s, the rave and alternative music scenes took off and influenced the culture of Haight-Ashbury. A long-time neighborhood attraction has been Amoeba Records on Haight Street near Stanyon. The business, which became one of the most famed independent music retailers in the world, was founded with a store on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley in 1990; the Haight store, a former bowling alley, opened in 1997.
Amoeba Records on Haight Street, fall 2019. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
The Haight Today
In the recent past, Haight-Ashbury has been a busy area with both vibrant businesses and a gritty, grungy feel, popular with both tourists and residents, especially teens and young adults. The area pays homage to its alternative history with thrift stores, world goods boutiques, and vintage shopping, but it also has chain stores, restaurants, and bars. It still attracts runaways and the homeless. Like most parts of San Francisco during the COVID pandemic, the Haight has been quieter than usual, with nonessential businesses closed for months, some forever. What the Haight of the post-COVID era will be remains to be seen.
Shop with colorful paint at Haight and Ashbury streets, November 2020. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
A head shop on Haight Street, November 2020. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
I truly love my collection of original artwork. Some of the pieces just caught my eye, some were purchased on trips, and some were created by talented friends and acquaintances. As a hobby artist myself, I also have a bunch of my own work (mostly in boxes and folders). It’s more fun to display the work of others!
Me with a mixed media piece by Jesse Reno and a vase and table made by Jamie Vaida in 2006, Oakland, CA
Prompted by recently buying a couple of small prints to support a Santa Cruz artist during the COVID-19 pandemic, I was reminded of how much I enjoy all the art I am so lucky to have, so I decided to write about it. I realized that I had never made a record of my art and when and where I got it. Also, I wanted to give some recognition to the artists who created the works I own–I know some of them are struggling right now because creating or teaching art was an important (or in some cases, a primary) source of income. I also wanted to give props to some of my art teachers over the years (apologies to a couple I may have neglected to include here).
Early Art Teachers: Tunkhannock, PA
My first private art teacher was Charlotte Ciccone. I took classes with Charlotte in the early 1980s, where I mainly did work in acrylic and watercolor. These classes were held in my hometown, Tunkhannock, a small, historic town in the mountains along the Susquehanna River in northeastern Pennsylvania.
Another early art teacher was Sue Hand. I studied with her during my high school days, in the mid-1980s. Sue is a prolific and very talented artist who lives in Dallas, PA, not far from my hometown. Sue and her husband, Joe, own Sue Hand’s Imagery, a shop and studio that offers art supplies, custom framing, and classes by Sue. We students often called her “Auntie Sue” because of her warm and supportive style.
First Artworks
Below is probably the first piece of original artwork I acquired. I got it from a coworker, Sam Erickson, in a holiday gift exchange (I think in 1990) when we were both working at a medical journal publishing company in Philadelphia called Current Science. It was my first job after college, and I worked there from the summer of 1990 to September 1993. The very talented Sam went on to become a successful rock photographer and filmmaker in New York. Sam is the Vice President and Head of Production at Arcade Productions, a subsidiary of Sony Entertainment. See Sam’s work at the Morrison Hotel Gallery.
Mannikin photograph by Sam Erickson
Below is a home blessing done in Japanese calligraphy by Laurie DeMarco Alagha, one of my best childhood friends, in 1993. The characters from left to right are “zuiki” (good omen), “shu” (come together), and “mon” (gate or house), so it means “May good fortune gather in your home.” Laurie made it for me as a wedding gift during the time she was living in Japan. Although my marriage didn’t last, my friendship with Laurie goes on across the miles and through many years, and this calligraphy piece brings back good memories. It’s also so special to have artwork made by a friend.
Japanese calligraphy by Laurie DeMarco Alagha
The print below is another wedding gift given to me in 1993. It was created with a photocopier. I don’t know who the artist is, but I love its graphic qualities and the repeating thorn motif. My close friend Cathy Connor gave it to me. Cathy and I remain friends, despite living across the country from each other, and it’s wonderful to have a piece that reminds me of her. (Pardon the reflection on the glass!)
Photocopy art
I bought this simple tapa painting in Tahiti in 1996. Unfortunately, I don’t know the artist’s name, as it is not signed. Tapa is a type of fabric made from tree bark; typically, a design or pattern is painted on it. I really like this piece, and buying it (as well as doing research for this blog post) allowed me to learn more about Tahitian art and history. What’s more, having this tapa painting brings back wonderful memories of the trip to the main island of Tahiti and to the islands of Bora Bora and Moorea that I took with my friends Laurie and Cathy in 1996. Cathy and I were both going through tough times in our life then, so the trip was really special for us. Read more about tapa at Welcome Tahiti.
Tahitian tapa painting
Here is a piece for which I have only a vague memory of how and when I got it: It’s a greeting card with a print of a (well-endowed) monkey. Unfortunately, it is not signed by an artist. I am pretty sure my friend Vicky Maxon gave me this card either for my 30th birthday in 1998 or when I bought my house in Philadelphia in 1999. I wish I knew more about who created the image! I wish I had a better memory in general!!!!
Moving to California: My Collection Grows
“Las Vegas Series II” is a painting by a friend of a friend and was done in 2005. I think it is acrylic or gouache on panel. My friend Rachel Delp gave this to me (I think as a gift to commemorate my moving from Philadelphia to the San Francisco Bay Area to start graduate school? Again, I wish I’d kept better track of exactly when I got some of my artwork and/or that I had a better memory!). Rachel was living in Cómpeta, a quaint village in the mountains of southeastern Spain, at that time. The artist, Scott Lidgett, was a British expatriate also living in Cómpeta. Sadly, he died of cancer a couple of years after this work was completed. I love all the textures and tones of this painting. I am a big fan of desert landscapes.
“Las Vegas Series II” by Scott Lidgett
This iron sculpture of an embracing couple and the rebar and marble pedestal on which it rests were gifts from my friend and then-partner Jamie Vaida in 2005 or 2006. At the time, we were living in Oakland, CA. I had moved to California in 2005 to start a doctoral program in psychology at the California Institute of Integral Studies in San Francisco. Jamie and I had met at Burning Man in 2004, and after a long-distance relationship, he decided to move to California with me. Originally, the sculpture was powder-coated with a dark blue finish, but as I’ve displayed it outdoors for many years, the weather has replaced the paint with a beautiful rust. Jamie is a talented metal artist who is originally from Massachusetts and lived for many years in Colorado before moving to the San Francisco Bay Area. Jamie designs and fabricates beautiful metal railings, gates, furniture, and other pieces, as well as doing fine art out of his Oakland studio. Find him at Vaida Metals Sculpting.
SSculpture and pedestal by Jamie Vaida
I love the following print by Oakland artist Fernando Reyes. I’m not sure if it is a linocut, woodcut, or monoprint, but I think it’s a woodcut. As with some of my other artwork, I can’t remember the exact date when I purchased it, but I believe it was around 2006 (although I may have bought it on a later visit to Reyes’ studio in 2016). My then-partner, Jamie, and I had gone to an open studio event in the Jingletown section of Oakland. Reyes works out of Ford Street Studios and does drawing, painting, printmaking, and cutout artworks. Again, I wish that both my records and my memory were better!
I bought this mixed-media work on a wood panel, “Sleepwalker,” by Portland, OR, artist Jesse Reno after Jamie and I took a road trip through northern California and Oregon in 2006. We saw an exhibit of Reno’s work at a cafe in Portland’s Hawthorne District, and I was taken by Reno’s evocative “neo-primitive” works and social commentary. Reno is a self-taught mixed media artist who has seen great success over the years since he began exhibiting his work in 2001. “Sleepwalker” is a statement about information overload in the contemporary world and the fact that people are often sleepwalking through life.
“Sleepwalker,” mixed media on wood panel by Jesse Reno
Below is another work by Jesse Reno. I think I got this one in 2007 or 2008. This piece is called “Feel, Not Think” and I like the sentiment, as I tend to be a thinker. I’m glad I bought these two Reno paintings when I did, as I’m not sure I could afford them today!
“Feel, Not Think,” mixed media on wood panel by Jesse Reno
This fun linoleum block print, or linocut, was done by Christine Weibel, who is a graphic designer and illustrator. Christine and I took linocut and monoprint classes together from 2008 to 2010 in San Francisco from Katie Gilmartin, a wonderful artist and teacher. I was always impressed by Christine’s talent, meticulousness, and patience. And, she is just an awesome person! This print was inspired by a cat named Baumans that would move its mouth like it was talking. I think it was created in 2008 or 2009. A wonderful thing about taking print classes is that it’s common for students to exchange prints with each other. I have some other amazing prints by past classmates and a few teachers, too, that are not currently on display. One of these days, I will get some more of them framed.
“Baumans, the Amazing Talking Cat,” linocut print by Christine Weibel
Below is a linocut that I made in Katie Gilmartin’s class in 2008 or 2009. I was really into circles for a while and did a lot of prints that had repeating circles as a theme. I liked that they represent ongoing cycles of life. I also really like working with patterns.
“Organic,” linocut by me (Blair Davis)
My classes with Katie Gilmartin weren’t my first experience with printmaking: I had taken classes at the Fleisher Art Memorial in Philadelphia from 2000 to 2005, first with the amazing Charlotte Yudis and then with the talented Christine Blair. In those classes, I mostly focused on intaglia etching. Those classes were special to me–I learned so much, and I had a great time working with Charlotte, Christine, and the other students. Read more about the Fleisher Art Memorial. Find Christine Blair on Facebook or on Instagram at @christineblairart.
Humboldt County and Santa Cruz
In 2010, I moved from Oakland to McKinleyville, CA, to take a postdoctoral fellowship at Humboldt State University in Arcata doing therapy with students. I wasn’t too happy to move to Humboldt County. Don’t get me wrong–it is an absolutely gorgeous place, with rocky beaches, redwood forests, farms, some quaint little towns, and nice people. But for me, it was just not where I wanted to be. The postdoc paid the worst of all the positions to which I’d applied, and it was FAR away from the San Francisco Bay Area and all my California friends. Also, McKinleyville is a very small, rural town, a far cry from the urban life I’d been used to after 19 years in Philadelphia and 5 years in Oakland! One of the saving graces of my 2 years in McKinleyville was that the area had a lot of artists and an amazing art crawl once a month in the neighboring town of Eureka. At one of these art events with friends, I picked up this adorable ceramic skunk by Diane Sonderegger. I’d seen (and smelled) a lot of skunks around the dirt road where I lived in McKinleyville, so the skunk seemed like a fitting memento of my life there.
I moved to Santa Cruz, CA, in August 2012 to work at University of California, Santa Cruz, as a psychologist; I was there from 2012 to 2019. Santa Cruz is not a big city like Philadelphia or Oakland, but it is busier and less isolated than Humboldt County, just a 75-mile drive to San Francisco and Oakland. I enjoyed the laid-back lifestyle and natural beauty of Santa Cruz, as well as the friends I made there. I also enjoyed all the art!
Although the following piece was done in 1999, I didn’t receive it until 2012 or 2013. It is a monoprint by artist and professor Sharon Bowar Cosgrove, who is based in Wilkes-Barre, PA. My mother, Penny Davis, bought this for me as a gift. Sharon has had an interesting career: Her work has been selected for the Art in Embassies Program sponsored by the U.S. Department of State and was displayed at the U.S. Embassy in Astana, Kazakhstan. She is the recipient of the Medici Award in Painting from the International Biennale Exhibition of Contemporary Art, in Florence, Italy, and has been Visiting Artist in Philadelphia; Umbria, Italy; Rome; and Ireland. Sharon has taught in Florence, Italy and facilitated group painting and mural projects with international artists, students, and victims of domestic violence. I find this piece soothing and peaceful. Don’t mind the reflection on the glass–photographing framed artwork can be challenging!
“Light Through the Trees,” monoprint by Sharon Bowar Cosgrove
Here’s a fun piece I bought at a print sale at UC Santa Cruz in 2012 or 2013. At the end of every academic year, the university’s print shop would have a sale of student work. I wish I had the full name of the artist who made this. It’s signed “Jorden,” so that’s all I’ve got. I think it’s a linocut, but it could be a screenprint. Again, there are some unfortunate reflections on the glass.
The whimsical linocut below was done by Jose Pulido, an artist from southern California who is influenced by popular culture and his Mexican heritage. I have a thing for monkeys, so I was searching around on Etsy for monkey-related art and found this print of a fancy chimp some time around 2013. These days, Pulido mainly creates prints of calaveras, decorative skulls that are associated with Mexico’s Día de Muertos, or Day of the Dead. Find his work in his Etsy store, Mis Nopales.
Linocut print by Jose Pulido
I just love this cat-bat mixed media piece on wood by AJ Sharkstar, a close friend and talented artist based in Oakland. She has worked as an indoor and outdoor muralist, shown in galleries, and done guerrilla street art, among other things. Her trademark is fanciful creatures, often painted on sidewalks, rocks, and driftwood. This piece was a Halloween gift in 2014. Below is a photo of a coffee table that was a collaboration between AJ and her husband, Todd Andrews (another close friend, whom I met in grad school in the mid-2000s). The table was another gift, created in 2014. See more of AJ’s work on her blog and website.
Cat-bat by AJ Sharkstar, mixed media on woodCoffee table by Todd Andrews and AJ Sharkstar
This painted engraving on wood brings back happy memories of a trip I took to Hawaii in July of 2017. I stayed mainly on Oahu, with a quick side-trip to the Big Island. I purchased this print on Oahu’s North Shore, in Haleiwa, at The Beet Box Cafe, a cute place where I had a delicious organic vegetarian lunch. There was an exhibit of local artwork, and this piece caught my eye. The artist, Patrick Parker, is originally from Southern California and now lives on Hawaii.
“Energy Source,” painted engraving on wood by Patrick Parker
Below are two fun prints by Hawaiian artist Welzie that I bought on the same Hawaii trip in 2017. I got these on Oahu’s North Shore, in Waialua, at the Sugar Mill, a historic complex that was a functioning sugar mill until 1996 and now houses shops and other businesses. Welzie, who started out as a surfboard artist, creates whimsical paintings and murals. His paintings are shown throughout Hawaii’s fine art galleries, and he has done large-scale murals in California and Mexico. I love the octopus, but the turtle is special to me, because I absolutely fell in love with sea turtles on my two trips to Hawaii (before my 2017 trip, I had visited Maui in 2014).
Sea turtle and octopus paintings by Welzie
My friend Laurel Bushman, who lives in Santa Cruz, is a super-talented artist who does fine art, murals, teaching, and more. She painted this watercolor of beautiful monarch butterflies in 2017. I bought it from her in 2018. Not only is this painting lovely, but it reminds me of Laurel and her husband, Geoff, because they have raised monarchs in their home to release and help repopulate. I have this piece hanging above my desk, and it’s nice to look up and see it while I am working.
Monarchs watercolor by Laurel Bushman
I’m not sure who created these paintings, as they are not signed. The animals were painted on vintage postcards in Rajasthan, India. I think these may be similar to “assembly line hotel art,” where there are perhaps different people working together to mass produce these little paintings for sale. I could be wrong–maybe it is just one artist creating these charming works. In any case, I love them. I’m a big animal person–I already mentioned that I love monkeys, and I also love big cats, so I could not resist these four paintings. I got them through Etsy, I think in 2018.
Rajasthan leopard and lion painted on vintage postcards
Rajasthan monkeys painted on vintage postcards
In October 2018, I went to an open studios event in Santa Cruz with some friends. We all were taken by the amazing prints of Bridget Henry, a friend of a friend who has a charming studio overlooking the ocean. Henry is a printmaker who is inspired by nature and psychology. She manages the print shop and teaches at UC Santa Cruz. I love the following woodblock print of an old, dilapidated church. I find such beauty in things that are weathered, falling apart, and being taken over by nature. It was fun being able to look through several different versions of this print and choose the one I liked the best. In case you’re not familiar with the process of printmaking, each print in a series is often slightly different from the others, since each one is hand-inked. Although an artist typically tries to use the same colors and methods for each print in a series, it’s inevitable that there will be some slight variations in color and tone. After I bought this print, I started following Henry on Facebook and Instagram and recently bought a few more, smaller, prints from her on Etsy (see below).
“Broken Halos,” woodblock print by Bridget Henry
This shadow box was created by my friend AJ Sharkstar (see above for more info on her fabulousness)! Because it had been created a while back and was a little faded, I got to collaborate on touching it up with her and her husband, Todd, in April 2019. We had a great time–I love that one of the activities we do together is making art. The second picture below shows the box on the wall of my previous apartment in Santa Cruz with the cat-bat by AJ and some other art.
Mixed media shadow box by AJ Sharkstar
Various artwork, including two pieces by AJ Sharkstar, in my Santa Cruz apartment
Living in San Francisco
I moved to San Francisco in August 2019 to start a new job as a psychologist at University of San Francisco. Soon after I moved, I was walking around my new neighborhood and happened upon a small art gallery called The Great Highway that was having an opening for several local artists, one of whom was Jeana Hadley, a graphic designer and illustrator and the owner of Sealevel Studio. I fell in love with this octopus by Hadley, and since I live near Ocean Beach, it’s fun to have a print with a nautical theme.
Octopus giclée print by Jeana Hadley
My latest acquisitions are three prints by Bridget Henry, which I got through Henry’s Etsy shop. I purchased two small print collages on wood that were done in 2019 and a linocut print on cardboard created in 2020. I had ordered a print collage of a sparrow, not the bunny seen below (got that one by mistake), but I liked this one so much that I decided to keep it rather than return it and get the one I’d ordered. Henry was kind in offering to exchange them and give me a discount, but I was happy with what I received. The process Henry used to make the print collages is interesting: A woodcut was printed on acid-free paper and cut out to collage on a wood block. The background is hand painted with black tea and ink.
Raven print collage by Bridget Henry
Bunny print collage by Bridget Henry
“Good Luck” linoleum block print for the COVID-19 pandemic by Bridget Henry
The last work I’ll show is more of my own. These are just some silly paintings I did in acrylic on old barn wood for my garden. I wanted to paint something fun and represent some of the “wildlife” I see in my garden: bees and gophers.
Garden paintings in acrylic on wood by Blair Davis
This post was one of the most fun and rewarding ones I’ve written, since it was a chance to look at all my art and reminisce about when and how I got it. As I mentioned a few times in my post, I wish I remembered all the details better–this was one of the reasons I wanted to write this post in the first place, so I would not forget even more about my art collection. Note to self: Keep track of the specifics of any art you acquire in the future!
This was also one of the more challenging posts I’ve written: Once I started, I realized how much work it was going to take to photograph all my art, research the dates and circumstances of acquisition for many of the pieces (by looking through photographs and my social media pages for “clues” and asking friends to refresh my memory), and find websites and other information about many of the artists. I hope you enjoyed seeing and learning about my art!
One of the murals of Clarion Alley. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
A few weeks ago, I was feeling stir crazy from staying at home during the COVID-19 pandemic (other than walking in my neighborhood and taking a few trips to the grocery store), so I drove to San Francisco’s Mission District to see the Clarion Alley Mural Project. The project is a series of murals, mostly with a social justice theme, painted in Clarion Alley, which runs for one block between 17th and 18th streets and Mission and Valencia streets. Clarion Alley Mural Project (CAMP) was established in 1992 by a volunteer collective of six residents/artists who were inspired by the murals of Balmy Alley, another Mission District alley covered in murals that were created in the early ’70s as an expression of artists’ outrage over human rights and political abuses in Central America.
Murals of Clarion Alley. Photo by Blair J. Davis.Murals of Clarion Alley. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
I can’t believe I hadn’t seen Clarion Alley before! I still remember the first time I heard about it: It was 2006, and I was working as a therapist-in-training at my first practicum position, at my graduate school’s outpatient therapy clinic. A young man I was treating for mood and social problems asked me if I knew about “that alley in the Mission with all the murals.” Despite going to the Mission District all the time and being an art lover, somehow I had never made it to Clarion Alley (or Balmy Alley, for that matter). After my client asked me about it, I forgot about the murals, and strangely, I never came across them during any of my days or nights walking around the neighborhood.
Doorways of Clarion Alley. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
One of the important messages embodied by Clarion Alley is that there should be a place for artists in San Francisco. Gentrification, prioritization of corporations and the wealthy, and a lack of affordable housing and work spaces have pushed artists, as well as many other longtime residents of the Mission, out of the area. Many of the murals address other social justice issues and pay tribute to prominent community members.
My trip the alley was just OK. The murals and other street art in the area were amazing and inspiring. However, it was hard to fully appreciate all the beauty and meaning: With the pandemic going on, I don’t have as much enthusiasm for exploring. Also, I felt like I was doing something wrong by leaving my neighborhood–not following the spirit of the shelter-in-place directive. On top of that, I was sad to see so many homeless people out and about, some in pretty rough shape. Not that that’s unusual in San Francisco, sadly. But the number of people who appeared homeless and were acting out (e.g., yelling, throwing garbage) seemed less typical, plus none were wearing masks. Homelessness and poverty, as well as untreated mental illness, are for sure the types of issues the artists of Clarion Alley are trying to highlight.
Despite the problems of my visit, I am glad to have seen Clarion Alley. After going, I did a lot of online research to learn more about the project. And, next time I feel inspired to leave my neighborhood, I would like to see Balmy Alley. Read more about the Clarion Alley Mural Project and Balmy Alley to learn about the history of both projects.
Note that photos of the Clarion Alley murals are not to be used for any commercial purpose, and permission should be obtained from CAMP before using the site as a location for photography. I attempted to contact CAMP before publishing this blog post, but I did not receive a reply so am hoping that my reasons for showing my photos of some of the murals–to inform my blog readers about CAMP–will fit with the project’s intent.
Calla lilies in my garden. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
I’ll admit that I am feeling anxious today. For anyone living in a cave, let me explain. A state of emergency has been declared in the United States due to the COVID-19 (new coronavirus) pandemic. San Francisco, where I live, declared a state of emergency in late February. The San Francisco Bay Area has had a significant number of diagnosed cases, and the suspicion is that the numbers are actually much higher (test kits have not been widely available, so many people who are sick have not been tested). “Social distancing” (avoiding much social contact with others) has been recommended to slow the spread of the virus, with the hope that this could prevent the U.S. from experiencing widespread serious illness as other countries have, particularly Italy.
Today was extra tough for me because I had to make a difficult decision about dropping out of a dance performance that is happening tomorrow–I almost never renege on a commitment, especially at the last minute, but I felt I had to in order to protect my health and adhere to the social distancing guidelines as I understand them. I did what I felt I needed to, but that does not change the fact that it’s been a rough day.
At work, we recently received a training on shinrin-yoku, or “forest bathing.” Shinrin in Japanese means “forest,” and yoku means “bath,” so shinrin-yoku literally means “bathing in the forest atmosphere.” The idea is to immerse yourself in a wooded setting to soak up the physical and emotional benefits it provides. I had read a bit about forest bathing before. In fact, I’d considered trying to get a Forest Therapy Guide certification but decided it was too much time and money for me currently. The Association of Nature & Forest Therapy, located in Sonoma County, is right around the corner from where I live, so should I elect to go through the Guide program in the future, I could easily do so. But that’s beside the point: The point is that I realized that what I needed today was NATURE.
Flowers in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
I’ve long been a nature lover. I’m not a hardcore outdoors person (have only backpacked ONCE in my life and can’t say I’d necessarily do it again), but I definitely am drawn to being outside, walking, hiking, and appreciating the beauty of nature. I find it soothing to be outdoors, whether it’s being active or just sitting reading in a park or taking photos. In fact, I sometimes agonize over whether one of my favorite hobbies, walking and taking photos, defeats the purpose and spirit of forest bathing. (Disclosure: I did walk and take photos today!)
Forest bathing is an exercise in presence and mindfulness. It’s not meant to be a form of exercise or a time for engaging with modern technology (such as cell phones or cameras): It is a practice of simply being in nature, connecting with it through our senses. Research on forest bathing has shown that it’s the nature–not just the walking or being outside–that is healing. People who walk in an urban setting, such as on a residential street, don’t get the same benefit as those who go into a forest or park with lots of green space and trees. Studies show that to reap the most good from the practice, one should engage in it for a total of 2 hours a week or more. The good news for all of us busy people is that you don’t have to walk for 2 hours straight to feel good–the 2 hours can be broken up into smaller chunks throughout the week.
Flowers in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
How does one actually “forest bathe?” It’s very simple. First, find a natural spot, one with trees and greenery. Next, leave your phone and other devices behind. Finally, really BE THERE–use all your senses to experience the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations of nature. Yes, simple, but not always easy for most of us, who are very dependent on having our phones with us at all times, checking messages, “being available,” and taking photos.
As I said, I have conflicted feelings about whether my taking pictures when I’m out in nature hinders or helps my being able to relax and take in the healing effect of forest bathing. Today, I took a long walk through Golden Gate Park and on Ocean Beach in a 2-hour window between rain showers. I can’t say that my mind completely let go of my worries: They came and went throughout my walk. But, that is actually a natural part of a mindfulness practice: Our thoughts never completely go away. We just get better at noticing them, trying to quiet the mind, trying not to judge ourselves, and going back to whatever mindfulness practice we are using.
Today, my forest bathing practice involved deep breathing, soaking in the atmosphere of the park and the beach, feeling the wind on my face, watching the birds and occasional people and dogs I encountered, and talking back to my fears and ruminations with whatever seemed to help at the time. I really don’t feel that the picture-taking took away from the experience, but next time, perhaps I’ll try leaving the camera at home to see how it feels. I can say as I spent more time on my walk, I had an easier time letting my thoughts go and releasing some of the physical tension I’d been feeling earlier.
Nasturtium leaves in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
As a therapist, I know that just letting go of thoughts, suppressing or ignoring fears and emotions, and “getting away” from anxiety is not what it takes to have a healthy mind. In fact, if those are our only tools, we will be out of balance. “Sitting with” our feelings is important. Having emotions is a normal and adaptive part of being human. We need to allow ourselves to feel, and we must actually feel in order to get better at not judging ourselves for our feelings. There are times that we need to process our thoughts and emotions so we better understand ourselves and gain new perspectives. It’s also important to experience our feelings and sit with our fears so that we can accept things as they are rather than live in denial or expend a lot of energy wishing things were different. Also, we need to face our fears–if we simply were to avoid anything that makes us anxious or afraid, it’s likely those triggers would cause even more fear, since we would never build our abilities to overcome and cope with our anxieties. We would also never prove to ourselves that we can face certain fears and get through them.
AND, we need to have some quiet and peace within ourselves. We need time to focus on the things that aren’t painful or anxiety-provoking. We need to build appreciation and awareness of what is good in our lives and in the world as a counter-balance to what is challenging and distressing. We need reassurance and positivity. We need ways to relax our bodies and calm our emotions when they become difficult to tolerate and sit with. It’s not a matter of “be with” OR “get away from”–it’s BOTH.
Dunes at Ocean Beach, San Francisco. Photo by Blair J. Davis.
As we wrestle with our current, frightening reality, let’s be patient with and kind to ourselves and others. Each of us may need different ways to cope and soothe. That said, if you haven’t tried forest bathing, I recommend it. If forest bathing doesn’t suit you, I still encourage you to spend some time outdoors. Try sitting on a park bench and people-watching or reading a book. Admire a pretty garden, watch a bird flying, see shapes in the clouds. Fresh air and nature are healing. Peace be with you, and may health and safety be with us all.
After writing my last post on the history of Golden Gate Park’s Conservatory of Flowers, I wanted to learn more about the park as a whole. Also, I’m in love with OpenSF History, a website with an extensive archive of historic photos, and have been diving deep into the site to find historic park photos, so I want to share them. My favorite pictures are those showing everyday people enjoying the park.
I decided to focus more on images than on written history, but I have provided a bit. Much of the information I include comes from FoundSF (a digital archive) and from good old Wikipedia. You can also watch an interesting video about Golden Gate Park by Glenn Lym.
The 1800s
By the mid-1800s, San Francisco was evolving from a minor port town into a metropolis due to the Gold Rush and the discovery of the Comstock Lode, as well as the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869. City officials wanted San Francisco to have the attractions and amenities of East Coast and European cities, such as museums and parks. At that time in the United States, a large park within a city was a new idea but was gaining popularity as a social health movement, given the dirt and noise of late-19th Century cities. New York’s Central Park (1858), Philadelphia’s Fairmont Park (1865), and Brooklyn’s Prospect Park (1866) were Golden Gate’s predecessors and the only similar projects in the United States.
The two men who share the credit for the creation of Golden Gate Park, engineer William Hammond Hall and horticulturist John McLaren, envisioned a bucolic, wooded landscape in which San Franciscans could escape the hustle and bustle of daily life. In 1870, Hall won the bid to do a topographical survey of the land on which the park would be created and to create a plan for the park; work began in 1871.
The land on which the 1017-acre park now sits was previously an ocean of windblown sand dunes with little vegetation. Stage one was growing grass seeds obtained from France. Next came trees in order to stabilize the dunes that covered three-quarters of the park’s area. By 1875, about 60,000 trees, mostly eucalyptus, Monterey pine, and Monterey cypress had been planted. By 1879, that figure had more than doubled to 155,000 trees over 1000 acres. The lush meadows, forests, and gardens, as well as lakes, that eventually were created were made possible by irrigation and water pumped in via two windmills at the western end of Golden Gate, built in 1903.
Newly constructed Conservatory of Flowers, with Oddfellows Cemetery and Lone Mountain in background, 1879. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.03211.jpg.
Although Hall and McLaren wanted the park to remain mostly “natural,” they were forced to compromise, with multiple buildings, formal gardens, raceways, and other attractions being added. The Conservatory of Flowers opened in 1879 and is the oldest building in Golden Gate Park. The Music Concourse, with its grand bandshell, was originally a part of a Worlds Fair, the California Midwinter International Exposition of 1894 (which encompassed 200 acres and included 120 structures; more than 2 million people visited). The Japanese Tea Garden is another remnant of the Midwinter Exposition. By the turn of the century, Golden Gate Park was “the free Disneyland of its time” and was a huge success, despite its relatively remote location. Children’s Playground, originally called the Sharon Quarters for Children, opened in 1888, and is thought to have been the nation’s first public playground. At various times, the playground included bears, elephants, a merry-go-round, goat-drawn carts, swings, and other pleasures for children and families.
Performing elephants in Childrens’ Playground, 1890. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.00037.jpg.Two formally dressed boys riding donkeys at Children’s Playground, 1890. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.03768.jpg.A child in a goat cart at Children’s Playground, 1890. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.03767.Illustration of a bird’s-eye view of Golden Gate Park, 1892. View from east end of park looking toward Pacific Ocean. Seven images at top depict sites of interest. Legend includes cable lines and railroads. Photo from FoundSF.View of Midwinter Exposition of 1894 from Strawberry Hill. Stow Lake, Stow Lake Drive, Lone Mountain, Masonic Cemetery, Oddfellows Cemetery, electric tower, and fairgrounds can be seen. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.02229.jpg.Children’s Playground on Kezar Drive, with carousel, Sharon Building, and gondola swings, 1894. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.01580.jpg.People at outdoor concert at the Music Concourse, 1895. I love all the hats and parasols. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.3678.Crowds and carriages at the Music Concourse, 1895. Quite a crowd! Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.3679.Arizona Garden, which used to be next to the Conservatory of Flowers, 1895. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp70.0227.Bicyclists, probably on Main Drive (now JFK Drive) near present Rainbow Falls, 1989. Bicycles became extremely popular in the late 1800s and early 1900s after the “safety bicycle” (replacing the high-wheel bike) was invented in 1895. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp71.1429.jpg.Child on pony (or donkey?) and child in goat cart, Children’s Playground, 1899. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.6521.
The the Early 1900s: Refugees, Races, and Museums
In the early 1900s, the park was busy with locals and visitors, who came to enjoy the outdoors and to visit the museums and other sights. Bicycling, baseball, boating, and picnics were all popular activities.
Dore Vase, sphinx, and bicycles in front of Memorial (de Young) Museum, 1900. Originally built as Fine Arts Building for 1893 Midwinter Fair. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp70.0247.jpg.Women on a rustic bridge by Chain of Lakes, 1900. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.2851.jpg.Families in the park, 1904. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp71.1439.Recreation Grounds near 7th Avenue. Child posing, with baseball game in background, 1905. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp15.659.jpg.Family feeding ducks, coots, and geese at Stow Lake, 1905. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp15.169.jpg.
After the tragic earthquake and fires of 1906, Golden Gate Park became a site of refuge for many who found themselves homeless and did not have relatives to take them in. Twenty-six official homeless encampments were constructed in Golden Gate Park and nearby. The refugee camps in the park were primarily used as an interim location while the Ingleside horse stables were renovated to house refugees. Over the months following the quake and fires, “earthquake shacks” to house people who had lost their homes popped up all throughout the undeveloped “Outside Lands” (as the sand dunes of western San Francisco were known at that time).
Earthquake refugees in Golden Gate Park mimicking a formal photographic pose. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp15.163.jpg.Earthquake refugees getting food, 1906. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp14.1149. Interior of supply depot shed in Golden Gate Park for refugees after the 1906 earthquake and fire. Kettles, pots and pans, buckets, and blankets can be seen on the shelves. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp102.0010.jpg.
San Francisco bounced back from tragedy. As the refugees found more permanent homes, Golden Gate Park soon went back to its original purposes–recreation and culture.
Harness race in Golden Gate Park Stadium, 1910 (now known as the Polo Fields). Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp33.03913.jpg.It doesn’t seem that the picnickers of 1910 were very concerned with litter. Sharon Meadow (now called Robin Williams Meadow). Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.03863.People and puppy, 1914. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.4845.A family and friends on a motorbike in the park, about 1915. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.6027.jpg.A family picnic, 1915. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.6026.Children in a car at the May Day festival in Sharon Meadow (now called Robin Williams Meadow), 1918. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp36.01854.
The De Young Museum’s original building was the Fine Arts Building from the Midwinter Exposition, of which de Young was the director. A new museum for de Young’s vast collections was completed in 1921. (The current extensive reconstruction of the museum began in 2001, and it reopened in 2005.)
The original museum of the California Academy of Sciences consisted of eleven buildings built between 1916 and 1976 in Golden Gate Park. The original structures were largely destroyed in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, with three of the original buildings conserved for the new construction, which opened in 2008.
Cameraman filming Bathing Beauties posing on a Franklin car (air cooled, so no radiator on the front) at Chain of Lakes, 1920. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp26.842.jpg.Girls’ picnic at Sharon Meadow (now called Robin Williams Meadow), 1920. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp30.0254.Man and children on a circle swing, Children’s Playground, 1920. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp37.03672.Woman and four girls enjoying the park at Sharon Meadow (now called Robin Williams Meadow), 1921. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.2825.Man with zebra-drawn cart in the park, 1925. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp14.4531.jpg.Family by the Children’s Playground bear pit, 1925. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp26.1346.After visiting the bear pit, this family enjoyed a picnic, 1925. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp26.1351.
Tough Times
During the Great Depression, the San Francisco Parks and Recreation Department ran out of public funds, so maintenance of Golden Gate Park was taken over by the Works Progress Administration (WPA), a government program providing employment and community improvements during the economic woes of the 1930s. The WPA built roads in the park, as well as other park fixtures, including an archery field, parts of the arboretum, Anglers Lodge, and the adjoining fly casting pools.
May Day festival at Sharon Meadow (now called Robin Williams Meadow), 1933. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp27.3147.
Today
A lot has changed in Golden Gate Park since the early days. However, a lot is still pretty much the same: The western end of the park remains mostly natural, with trails, lakes, and woods. The windmills, Conservatory of Flowers, and Music Concourse are still there. People still row boats and fish on Stow Lake. Some roads and meadows have been renamed, and museums have been expanded and modernized, but the beauty and charm of Golden Gate Park lives on.
With 24 million visitors annually, Golden Gate is the third-most-visited city park in the United States after Central Park and the Lincoln Memorial. Golden Gate is 20 percent larger than Central Park, at more than 3 miles long and half a mile wide. I’m lucky to live within walking distance of this beautiful treasure.
I’m on a roll, making up for lost time with blog posts after not having written for several months! Today, I visited the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers, a beautiful building full of tropical plants in Golden Gate Park. This Victorian-era attraction is the oldest public wood-and-glass conservatory in North America. After my visit, I did some deep digging online and found some interesting history, as well as a ton of photos. Note that most of the history provided here comes from the Conservatory’s website.
The San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers, probably in 1878 or 1879. Lone Mountain is in the background at right. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website.
Early History A San Jose landowner, James Lick, had ordered conservatory materials to be shipped from New York in the 1870s to construct two private conservatories; however, Lick died before his projects could be built, and as his estate was being divided, 33 tons of the glass were donated to the Society of California Pioneers. In 1877, the Society of California Pioneers sold the conservatory pieces to 27 prominent San Franciscans and local philanthropists, including former Mayor William Alvord, Charles Crocker, Leland Stanford, and Claus Spreckels. It was the intention of these men to donate the conservatory materials to the City of San Francisco for public use in Golden Gate Park, which was being created.
A stipulation of the donation was that the conservatory be erected within 18 months, so it had to be built quickly. This happened, even though the steamer Georgia, which was carrying some of the construction materials, sunk. This may explain why the San Francisco Conservatory does not seem to have had a formal opening date, but rather a “soft opening” sometime in the middle of April 1879. In addition to the glass from Lick, the building materials included local old-growth redwood and other native trees.
The Conservatory in 1879. This may be during construction, as the building appears to be unpainted.
Conservatories were very popular in the Victorian era, and the San Francisco Conservatory was no exception, fast becoming the most visited location in Golden Gate Park. It was beloved by both locals and visitors. The original layout included a fountain in the entryway and another in the Palm Room, under the dome. The west wing displayed flowering and ornamental foliage in one gallery and hard-wooded plants, like azaleas, in the other. The east wing featured the Orchid House and an aquatic plant gallery with a large pond, which contained the Conservatory’s first blockbuster exhibit: the Victoria regia, a giant water lily, with leaves that grow several feet in diameter. This plant was the first of its kind to be grown in California and brought both recognition and crowds to Golden Gate Park. The Conservatory still boasts these gorgeous giant water lilies today.
The Pond Room in the late 1800s. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website. The Pond Room today: in December 2019.The Conservatory in 1882. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp26.1934.
The Conservatory survived a fire originating in the furnace room in 1883 that destroyed the central dome and many plants. With no public funds available for repairs, private donor Charles Crocker provided $10,000. During the restoration, the dome was raised by 6 feet, and the eagle finial on top of the dome was replaced with the planet Saturn, probably a reference to the ancient Roman god of agriculture. In 1895, the Conservatory was wired for electricity for the first time.
The remnants of the dome following the 1883 fire. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp26.1318.Reconstruction of the dome underway, mid-1880s. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp25.4131.View from Arizona Garden down to the Conservatory of Flowers in the mid-1880s. Dome appears to be under reconstruction following the 1883 fire. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp37.02290-L.Ceremony for laying the cornerstone of the Garfield Monument, August 24, 1883. View northwest across Main Drive (John F. Kennedy Drive today) toward the dais and crowd. Conservatory dome under reconstruction after the 1883 fire. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp37.03265.The Conservatory with the new dome, with visitors coming by horse and buggy. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website. (Date not provided, but likely at the end of the 1880s.)Interior shot, 1886. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp37.03465.Crowds of visitors in 1887. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp71.1427.The Conservatory’s flowerbeds decorated with “parterre” designs, 1890. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp70.0232.The Conservatory in 1900. Photo from OpenSFHistory.org.Interior shot, 1900s. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp37.04228.
The devastating San Francisco 1906 earthquake and subsequent fires did little damage to the Conservatory. The area leading up to the building, known as Conservatory Valley, became a temporary refugee camp for people who had been left homeless by the disasters.
Refugee camp outside the Conservatory after the 1906 earthquake and fire. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website.Refugee camp in Conservatory Valley, looking south to Mt. Sutro, Clary Collection. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp33.00936.Three men with basic necessities (including whiskey) in front of a tent in a refugee camp, probably in Conservatory Valley. Note Iron Bridge in background. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp15.162.Men view the earthquake refugee camp near the Conservatory. View from steps of Arizona Garden. Affiliated Colleges in distance on Mt. Sutro. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp26.501.Water fountain in front of the Conservatory, designed by Melvin Earl Cummings and formally accepted by the Park Commission in June 1904. Photo taken in 1909. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp33.03902.1910. Photo from OpenSFHistory.org.Interior shot, 1910s. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp37.03870.1915. Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp14.4628.
Another fire originating in the furnace room damaged the Conservatory in 1918, resulting in the partial collapse of the glass roof and damage to the Potting Room. The Conservatory was again able to bounce back from adversity. However, by the 1930s, budget cuts, a result of the Great Depression, meant that park services and staff were reduced, and the Conservatory suffered from neglect. Necessary repairs were not made, and on several occasions the Conservatory was threatened with closure. Accounts vary, but some say that the building was closed for part of the ’30s and ’40s for structural repairs, reopening in the mid-’40s.
The Conservatory lawn in the 1920s. Photo from OpenSFHistory.org.Snazzy visitors in their car. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website. (Date not provided, but probably the 1920s.) Visitors. Photo from San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers website. (Date not provided, but appears to be the 1920s.) 1920s. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp15.675.The Conservatory faced tough times in the 1930s. Photo from OpenSFHistory.org.Interior shot, 1930s. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp27.6220.Parterre in front of the Conservatory in honor of San Francisco welcoming the United Nations, 1945. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp25.5246.Visitors in 1945 with United Nations parterre. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp28.1489.Aerial view, April 10, 1947. Photo: Barney Peterson / The Chronicle 1947.Woman in 1950 posing next to floral tapestry reading “Public Parks Junior Tennis Championship” in front of the Conservatory. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp28.3063.Interior shot, 1957. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp25.1373.1963. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp25.5886.Renovation underway at the Conservatory entrance, 1966. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp25.5712.1973. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp12.00721.The interior of the Conservatory of Flowers, shown on its 100th anniversary on May 19, 1978, looks much the same as it did in 1878. Photo: Clem Albers / The Chronicle 1978.Parterre of 49er helmet reading “Super,” to commemorate the 49ers’ first Superbowl victory, over the Bengals in 1982. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp119.00084.
More Recent History The most devastating damage in the Conservatory’s history was caused by a violent wind storm in 1995 that shattered 40 percent of the building’s glass and destroyed many rare plants. With millions needed for repairs, the building was closed, with many fearing it would never reopen.
With fundraising efforts, including those by First Lady Hillary Clinton, the Conservatory was able to be repaired. Restoration began in 2000 and took 8 years. One major challenge of the repairs was that the Conservatory was built according to a detailed blueprint, which apparently was destroyed in the great fire that occurred after the 1906 quake. This required the architects involved with the project to take the building apart so they could see how it was built in order to restore it. The work also included lead abatement and seismic strengthening. The total cost of the redo: $25 million. A grand public reopening was held in 2003.
Damaged facade in 1995. Photo from https://www.wmf.org/project/golden-gate-park-conservatory-flowers.Man seated in front of Conservatory of Flowers in the 1990s, with sign that reads “Danger Keep Out.” Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project – wnp07.00151.Grand reopening gala, 2003. Photo by Katy Raddatz/Chronicle.
Since 2003, millions of visitors have come to the Conservatory of Flowers, and it has been the site of weddings and special events. The Conservatory holds talks by horticultural authors and hosts horticultural societies and botany students. The Conservatory of Flowers has garnered numerous local, state, and national awards, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1971. It is a City and County of San Francisco Landmark and a Historic Civil Engineering Landmark.
Personal History I’ve only been to the Conservatory a few times but definitely plan to return again now that I am living in San Francisco. On today’s visit, I saw many lovely orchids, a 100-year-old giant Imperial Philodendron named Phil, beautiful stained glass, koi, and those giant lily pads. During what I believe was my first visit, in 2006, when I was in graduate school and my parents were in town to see me, the Conservatory had a wonderful exhibit on butterflies and bats. (However, I may have visited during my first trip to San Francisco, which was in 1991. It’s hard to remember now!) What a lovely and special place, with so much history!
Butterfly exhibit at the Conservatory, 2006.My dad impersonating a bat at the Bats and Butterflies exhibit at the Conservatory, 2006.My dad admiring the lily pad sculpture in the Pond Room at the Conservatory, 2006.The Conservatory today: December 2019. The sky briefly clears after rainstorms.Koi pond and statue today: December 2019.The Conservatory today: December 2019. Winter “Night Bloom” light show. From FogCitySecrets.com.
Well, dear reader(s), it’s been another minute since I posted. I’ve thought about writing many times, but life has gotten in the way. OK, sometimes laziness has gotten in the way, but life, too!
Moving to the Outer Sunset neighborhood of San Francisco a few months ago made me curious about the area’s history and also got me to thinking about how the characteristics of different neighborhoods can impact our thoughts and emotions. I’ve written before about the psychology of color. Like color, scale and design can shape the way people interact with neighborhoods. As I’ve walked around my new environs, I’ve thought about how the building scale, uniformity, design, and colors make me feel.
Aerial shot of the Outer Sunset, looking north.
History To call the Outer Sunset a “working-class” neighborhood today is a bit of a misnomer: The average house here now goes for about a million dollars. But when they were built, they were meant to allow families with modest means a way to have their own homes. Formerly called “Outside Lands,” comprising acres of sand dunes and scrub, the area started to be developed in the late 1800s when tourist attractions were added to Ocean Beach and Golden Gate Park was created. Initially, it was mostly settled by white Americans, primarily Irish and Italian. Mass home building didn’t take off until after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. Large tracts of nearly identical houses were built from the 1920s to the 1960s. There are several commercial strips scattered throughout the Sunset.
Starting in the ’60s, the neighborhood saw a steady influx of Asian (mostly Chinese) immigrants following the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, which lifted racial quotas and allowed more non-Europeans to immigrate to the United States. Today, the Outer Sunset is primarily Asian and Asian-American, with Chinese being the dominant culture; the second-largest ethnic group here is European-American.
One of the commercial streets of the Sunset is Irving Street. This shot is on Irving near 24th Avenue, technically in Central (not Outer) Sunset. Photo from sanfranciscodays.com.
Design and Scale The Outer Sunset has a very distinct look and a fairly uniform design. Friends who are not that familiar with the area but have been to San Francisco often look blank when I try to explain where I live, but when I describe the way Outer Sunset looks, their eyes light up with recognition: “Oh, I drove through that neighborhood on my way up the coast!” “Oh, yeah, all those pastel houses!” “I think I was there on my way to Golden Gate Park!”
In some ways, Outer Sunset reminds me of working class neighborhoods in cities back East, where I’m from. Philadelphia, where I spent almost 20 years, has many districts that were built for working people throughout the centuries, and all share a certain style and economy of materials: small homes, often connected in rows; modest design; similarity to the neighbors’ homes (as many were built en masse); generally small (or absent) front yards; human scale.
Unlike the working-class neighborhoods of other cities, Outer Sunset is made up of blocks and blocks of (mostly) pastel stucco houses. The majority of the homes are two-story row houses with a garage on the ground floor and living quarters above. Because property is so ungodly expensive in San Francisco, many homeowners have added an in-law apartment on the ground floor, behind the garage. There are a few three-story homes here and there, and there are some blocks on which the houses have a touch more individual design than on others. Contemporary homeowners seem to be choosing richer paint colors and grays over pastels.
A typical block of homes in Outer Sunset, probably built in the 1940s or ’50s.
Psychology of Design In some ways, the neighborhood’s sameness provides comfort and familiarity. You instantly know it’s a quiet, residential neighborhood when you see all those little pink houses, one-car garages, and quaint touches that help each often-bland facade stand out just a little. There is a sense of peace and orderliness.
Houses along Great Highway, the western-most street in the Outer Sunset.
While you might think that the human-scale architecture, soothing color palate, and walkable streets would promote a sense of community, other design elements fight against it. One is that garages take up most of the first floor, and entrances are hidden by locked metal gates; these features take away from homes having a warm or accessible feel. Also, it’s rare for anyone to be sitting or hanging out in front of their house—most homes lack porches, stoops, and front patios that would allow residents to spend time out front where they could chat with neighbors and passers-by. Houses feel private and hidden rather than open and inviting.
Sunset over the Outer Sunset, with the Pacific in the distance.
One Canadian researcher, Colin Ellard, has found that people are strongly affected by building facades (Bond, 2017). Complex and interesting facades affect people positively, whereas boring and impersonal building fronts can have a negative impact. The Sunset contains a mix of “interesting” versus bland facades, leading pedestrians to feel varying degrees of discomfort versus engagement. Some Outer Sunset streets are much more uniform and uninteresting than others.
According to Danish urbanist Jan Gehl, a well-designed city street should allow the average pedestrian to see an interesting new sight about once every five seconds (Ellard, 2015; Weintraub, 2015). In some ways, the Sunset’s lack of dramatic architectural variety may be offset by the small and interesting details that are visible to those on foot: plantings, murals, interesting paint colors, attractive metalwork, sculptures, benches, and decorative stones. Still, many have criticized the Outer Sunset as being boring and monotonous.
Interesting murals on a house and garage door.
Another much-studied element of the psychology of urban neighborhoods is green space: Access to greenery amidst city buildings is linked to better psychological health. The Sunset lacks a lot of green spaces—some blocks are virtually all concrete—although some streets do boast small trees and strips of yard containing anything from rocks to artificial turf to flowers to succulents. As with other psychological elements of design, the Sunset provides some positives and negatives here.
Pretty planters.Funky yard.
Final Thoughts I’m slowly feeling more at home in my new neighborhood. I can’t say that I have strong positive or negative feelings about the area—for me, it’s a mix. I can say that I wish there were more people out and about when I am walking around, and I also would be happier if the houses had more inviting fronts, with porches and yards. But that said, I am enjoying the Outer Sunset and continue to discover the small details that break up the overarching uniformity. I love seeing the ocean when I’m waiting at the bus stop. I love being able to walk to Golden Gate Park. I love the beachy feel on some of the streets and the interesting mix of cultures. On the surface, it may all look the same, but if you take a closer look, there is a lot to see.
After posting earlier today about street art and graffiti, I went down a rabbit hole of looking through some of my photographs. I have always loved documenting murals, street art, and graffiti. Living in Philadelphia from 1986 to 2005 (and visiting frequently since I moved away), I got a lot of chances to photograph public art. Philly has a wonderful organization called Mural Arts Philadelphia, which was founded in 1984 as part of the Philadelphia Anti-Graffiti Network. Artist Jane Golden set out to find local graffiti artists and redirect their talents from underground, illegal graffiti to sanctioned public murals. Philadelphia Mural Arts Advocates became a private nonprofit organization in 1997. The program is currently one of the largest employers of artists in Philadelphia, hiring more than 300 artists each year, including more than 100 people prosecuted for illegal graffiti. The program has created close to 4000 murals since 1984.
Here are some of my photos of murals and street art in Philly, in my current hometown of Santa Cruz, CA, and elsewhere, from 2002 to 2017.
Isaiah Zagar Studio Door, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Brian Barneclo mural, Santa Cruz, CA. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Fishtown mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
New Kensington mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
Fishtown mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
New Kensington mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
New Kensington mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
New Kensington mural, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2016.
Waikiki mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2017.
Hilo mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2017.
Santa Cruz mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2014.
Haleiwa mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2017.
Santa Cruz mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2014.
Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
West Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
West Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
West Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
West Oakland mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2009.
Santa Cruz mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2014.
Eureka mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2011.
Eureka, CA, mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2011.
Philadelphia mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Philadelphia mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Philadelphia street art. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Philadelphia mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Isaiah Zagar studio, Philadelphia. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2002.
Philadelphia mural. Photo by Blair J. Davis, 2017.
Art and signs in Samara, Costa Rica. Photograph by Blair J. Davis, 2011.
