The San Francisco Art Commission unveiled Art in Storefronts in 2009, a program of temporary public art commissioned by local artists to populate vacant storefronts. Many of the city’s commercial corridors were hurt by the economy and empty storefronts contributed to a palpable malaise. Further, vacancies invited vandalism that propagated more vandalism, which dispelled new business. Inviting artists to revivify empty storefronts, it was theorized, would generate community pride and increase foot traffic. Beyond its success locally, this San Francisco program, with its open source online Toolkit, has become a model for other cities across the country.
The current iteration is along the Central Market Street corridor, between UN Plaza and 6th Street. It features eleven site-specific projects, including murals and sculptural installations, along with seven additional projects hosted by community partners including the Luggage Store and Gray Area Foundation for the Arts. As a walking experience, the program invites a reconsideration of areas you may not visit often, or ever. While looking for the projects, denoted with purple and gold signage, you notice things that could easily be construed as art but are simply components of the urban fabric, such as vintage signage for places like the Odd Fellows Temple or the mysterious and anachronistic International Art Museum of America.
I emerged from the Civic Center station, blinking confusedly like a mole adjusting to sunlight. Though I know the city well enough, this particular area felt unfamiliar. I was intrigued by a traveler’s sense of wonder without having gone any further than downtown.
Paz de la Calzada’s Central Market Dreamscape (2011) wraps around the exterior of the defunct Strand Theater. Rendered in charcoal, the artist created a swirling mass of hair-like strands over the boarded-up former entrance. Above the iconic sign and marquee, a cut paper installation adorns the second floor windows, evocative of street artist SWOON. A diminutive paper signature spelling ‘Swoon’ made me wonder if I stumbled upon one of Swoon’s actual interventions or the work of a copycat. My eyes traveled back and forth between the drawing, the original theater sign, and the cut paper in the windows, thinking about how simply the artist encapsulated the layered histories of the site: there isn’t one strand, there are many. I crossed the street to see the work better but the finely rendered drawing was a sooty mass from a distance. To really take it in, you had to stand close — but if you stood too close, you couldn’t really take it all in.
“TRUTH,” Rigo 23, 2002.