San Francisco
Our Necessary sense of security
San Francisco’s Privately Owned Public Open Spaces
We’re constantly searching for something familiar to us. We search for something to ground us to our identity, what we know best, each time we enter a completely foreign circumstance. Because that insecurity is so uncomfortable. Especially in a vast, crowded city like San Francisco, a place where everyone’s heads are always down—focused on walking, focused on moving forward, focused on the future—there seems to be so little space left. Not enough space to simply remain in one place calmly (mostly for fear of the waves of nine-to-five workers on their daily commute and being shot one or two disapproving glares). Even less space to reach backwards into ourselves for a second. How do we recover if we are always moving?
Scattered in various locations throughout the city, some better hidden than others, are a multitude of spots that can grant us this sense of security when our minds feel the most weighed down or when the air in the office begins to feel particularly stuffy. Such spots are known as Privately Owned Public Open Spaces: large, inviting, and (most importantly) free of charge. They are open, not only in the sense that they are accessible by the general public, but also to interpretation and to the personal ways in which individuals experience and find meaning in their versatile existence. Chiefly, the goal of POPOS is to offer a place of solace from the city’s fast pace, but the way in which each specific location brings security to any singular daily routine varies innately, due to an individual’s biases or desires.
Integration
Unapologetically occupying space on street level, located on a corner just a block from the ever-busy Market Street, 101 California St. exemplifies accessibility in a beautiful escape. The sharp lines and dull coloring of the seating contrasts with the roundness and dewy vividness of the flowers within their planters. Conveniences of the city are not lost in this location as coffee shops are littered around the intersection, designating the large steps for a brief coffee break or for people-watching. The tall steps of the pyramidal terrace seating stack on top of each other, arriving in a plateau at a height beyond the typical pedestrian’s line of sight, but not tall enough to incite feelings of exclusion from the excitement of foot traffic. Breathing in, I am relaxed by the red and purple hues of the potted flowers without needing to leave behind the stone grays of the sidewalk and the reflective blues of the skyscrapers.
Oppositely, 343 Sansome St. provides solace at a much higher altitude, as the climb (elevator ride) up to the 15th floor is no small feat. The rooftop venue is much more casual than the lobby—cool-toned wooden benches and metal chairs and tables are scattered across the rooftop, perfectly fitted with the cement tones of the neighboring buildings. A simple, slightly childish-looking obelisk is planted in the center of the rooftop, drawing my eyes with its bright colors and four-sided illustration of the seasons. I observe the blue side of the obelisk and am again reminded of the thin, icy air of late January nipping at my exposed face. When I focus upwards, I see nothing but the brilliant blue of the sky above, but as soon as I tilt my head down again, I realize how integrated I still am with the rest of the city. I can easily glance into the windows of other buildings and almost into the lives of others who are going about their daily office tasks. Perhaps those who are indoors also achieve the feeling of rest by observing those out on the rooftop.
Shelter
Stepping through the glass doors and into 1 Sansome, I am immediately stunned at the interior’s grandiosity. Massive marble stone, white pillars, and gated archways consume the space, resembling old cathedral-like or Roman architecture in tandem with modern minimalistic aesthetics. I note the contrast of the terrarium-style ceiling and the lack of greenhouse-like warmth and tropical color, which makes the day, already chilly, seem especially unfriendly. A tall, noble, green lady looks down upon us—her name is Star Girl. She blends seamlessly with the polished but muted nature of her surroundings. Nothing about this place is particularly familiar or comfortable, but the monotone coolness of the interior provides a serene environment for a moment of reading or a crêpe date.
Unlike 1 Sansome, the courtyard in between the Union Square Apple Store and the neighboring hotel is only enclosed on three sides, with a fountain that greets all those passing by. The large plant wall backing the space audaciously acts as a barrier between people in the POPOS and those in the high-rises beyond. Over the top of the green structure, I glimpse a couple of skyscrapers peeking over, almost as if they’re trying to sneak a look at those lounging in the courtyard. Of course, no one who finds themselves in Union Square is attempting to escape from the rumbles of the city, but this courtyard allows visitors to take a quick moment for themselves among the rustic wooden seating and well-trimmed hedges. Foot traffic is light, and the space is guarded by a massive, rainbow-colored sign of the word “love,” which proudly symbolizes San Francisco’s famous spirit of inclusivity.
Familiarity
Sandwiched in an alleyway between bustling SF Chinatown and the stoic tallness of the Embarcadero district, and again secluded within its own gated walls, is Empire Park. Quite similar to the elegant, French influenced, forest-like courtyards found in New Orleans, Empire Park boasts polished wooden benches, red brick detailing, and bright wooden grids that allow for an overgrowth of gracefully entangled vines. There is even space for a small stone fountain within this cozy oasis. Other familiar suburban charms are scattered throughout, adding another layer of intimacy to its picturesque, front-yard image. Steam floats wispily out of the chimney that abruptly juts out of the faded brick building. Damp clothes hang out of the windows, on the fire escape—wherever there seems to be space. Look around. It is easy to feel rested here. It feels a little bit like home.
Of course, despite all the efforts of the mentioned POPOS locations, the city is still difficult to escape from when it surrounds you and inundates your every sense. At the Apple Store, the high-rises find a way to peer over the tall wall of green. As I sit within the pristine walls of 1 Sansome, looking up through the terrarium glass brings me eye to eye with the glaring windows of the adjacent building, and lowering my voice allows the sounds of downtown to flood my ears. Even a short walk from the most endearing, seemingly well-hidden “neighborhood park” will lead straight to the heart of the turbulent and never-resting energy of Chinatown. Perhaps, then, the point is not to escape.
It’s places like these that remind me to just take a breath. Like city activities and college schedules, life flows at swift speeds, but I need not be washed away at its will. The point is not to impossibly escape from the sometimes insufferable rush, but to know my own pace and seek solace and rest as I need.
Words: Anna Fang
Photos: Stephany Su
