shannon little

06/27/12 12:25pm

San Francisco’s Utopic Dump: Harnessing Natural Fears to Control Scavenger Birds

I grew up in landlocked Colorado, thousands of miles from the nearest ocean, where seagulls were weirdly common. I thought there was something majestic and coastal about them. It turns out that they weren’t drawn to the Platte River, but to the wrappers and smooshed food bits they could find in dumpsters and parking lots.

Here in San Francisco, we see seagulls in their natural habitat at China Beach or the Albany Bulb, but again, those darn birds have a taste for grit, and they’re also drawn in droves to the San Francisco dump, on the southeastern edge of the city. It’s a problem, and the folks at Recology San Francisco have found a solution.

The gulls love the organic waste at the dump, rich as it is with food scraps from San Francisco’s restaurants and residents, as well as leftovers from the fish markets. Gulls are scavengers, they’ll eat fish bits, amphibians and worms, but they really shouldn’t be eating chicken bones or pizza crusts or pad thai. Feasting dump gulls are also messy, picking up bits of plastic and other trash, spreading it around in nearby neighborhoods, feeding it to their chicks, and dropping it into the San Francisco Bay waters.

However, Indigo Redondo, a licensed falconer, and his small flock of raptors are working diligently to make the dump a less appealing place for the gulls. By taking advantage of the gulls’ hard-wired fears of the birds of prey, Recology San Francisco is able to minimize the problems the gulls can cause without causing actual harm to the gulls or other birds in the area.

Rosemarie, a Saker falcon, hard at work.

Redondo has five trained birds that he brings to the site on a rotating basis: a Peregrine falcon named Cleo; a Harris hawk named Nina; a Saker falcon named Rosemarie; and two new birds, another Harris and another baby Saker, Maya, who is still being trained. The birds are all captive bred by state-licensed breeders, and only licensed falconers like Redondo can keep them. (All birds of prey are protected species, you can’t just grab one out of the wild and tame it.)

The raptors’ natural instinct is to hunt, so to protect the safety of gulls and other birds, Redondo keeps them well fed and carefully tracks their weight. Since they’re not hungry, they’re not actually hunting the gulls. Instead they fly around the facility a bit, take in the view from the tops of buildings and return to Redondo for treats. But to the gulls, the raptors are flashing danger signs, and the presence of the raptors is enough of a deterrent to keep the gulls away. The idea is similar to graphic health warnings on the sides of a cigarette carton, calorie information at a fast food restaurant, or guard dogs with a scary bark but no bite.

Redondo also has a border collie, Raine. Raine is a registered service dog who started her career as an airport bird control specialist, chasing birds off of runways. Now she hazes seagulls that are idling on the ground at the dump, trying to keep them from settling in.

Falconry is a post-retirement job for Redondo, and he says he works more than he ever did in his career at FedEx. The program is technically bird control or bird abatement; it’s not falconry because Redondo’s birds are not used for hunting. Similar programs are also in effect at the Pebble Beach golf course, Travis Air Force Base, and this year’s French Open.

Redondo conferring with Rosemarie as she flexes her wings.

It is enormously effective as seen on the one day a week Redondo has off. On those days the droves of gulls return. “There’s such a large food source, when they see I’m not around, they see there is no threat”¦. It’s been going on for generations. We humans have created an easy place for them to eat.”

Before Redondo and his flock arrived, Recology would block off the trash processing area using hanging strips of plastic, and spray grape extract onto the trash, creating a taste that’s foul to gulls. But neither was as effective as the raptors, especially since the grape extract was constantly being buried as the trash was moved around. “This is an eco, green approach to bird control,” Redondo concludes. “We’re not here to do harm to anything, we’re just keeping the birds uncomfortable.”

Seagulls at the San Francisco Dump. Only the bravest remain.

I still think seagulls are pretty birds, even knowing they can be a nuisance. The fact that they have instinctual fears of raptors like Rosemarie is heartening as well. We have created these huge, unnatural food sources, and we have lured them all the way to Colorado, but there is still a bit of wild animal lurking in their little bird brains.

See previous Untapped Cities coverage of Recology SF.

Follow Untapped Cities on Twitter and Facebook! Get in touch with the author @shanthrax815.

Nature, quirky, waste

Arts & Culture

04/23/12 2:52pm

San Francisco’s Utopic Dump: Visual Artists Remake City’s Trash into Treasure

by shannon little

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In their book, Cradle to Cradle, authors William McDonough and Michael Braungart lament the one-way, cradle-to-grave model of our industrial system. The detritus in our landfills-upholstery, old furniture, computers, paper and food-is the end of the road for products made from material “that required effort and expense to extract and make, billions of dollars’ worth of material assets.” Yet once they’re in the landfill, the materials’ value goes to waste.

A day’s worth of San Francisco trash, being compressed before being trucked to a landfill in the East Bay.

In San Francisco though, a good deal of our waste avoids that fate. The Board of Supervisors passed a mandatory recycling and composting ordinance in 2009, and our curbside recycling and compost pickup is free. Our compost feeds soil at local farms and wineries. Partially used cans of paint left at the household hazardous waste dropoff are available for free. All told, 77% of our waste is diverted from the landfill. The city hopes to reach its goal of zero waste by 2020.

And a select group of artists is also chipping away at the city’s waste stream. In their hands, used glass becomes icy sculpture; discarded fur coats become a husk of jackrabbits; Styrofoam becomes a full-scale (non-operational) Hummer; and engine parts, a gas pump, baseball bats, ten-speed bike handlebars, vacuum parts, a lamp, extension ladder parts, a garden soil aerator and golf caddy cart wheels are reborn as a giant mosquito.

Dump-sourced artwork on display at the San Francisco Dump’s gallery and education center, including Nemo Gould’s Guzzler.

These artists are part of an internationally known artist-in-residence program hosted by Recology San Francisco. Recology is the employee-owned company that handles San Francisco’s trash, recycling and compost collection and operates the 46-acre dump on the San Francisco/San Mateo county line.

Since 1990, more than 100 professional and student artists from the Bay Area have held four-month residencies at the dump, where they have created paintings, sculptures, photographs, installations and other works of art, according to program manager Deborah Munk. The artists comb through the public disposal and recycling facilities (not the contents of your black bins) and receive a stipend and full-time use of a large studio and stocked tool shop for the four-month residency.

Works of art are entirely dump-sourced. Nemo Gould, a 2007 artist, wanted to buy hardware to hold together his sculptures, like Guzzeler, above, and Impala. Program leaders asked him to hold off before buying anything, and days later an elderly man brought a toolbox full of nuts and bolts to the public disposal area, exactly what Gould needed. Beau Buck, a current resident artist, is using feathers in his pieces. The feathers come from raptors handled by the dump’s resident falconer (more on that in an upcoming UntappedSF article).

The Public Disposal and Recycling Area at the San Francisco Dump.

Munk generally receives about 100 applications each year, and an advisory board selects four to eight artists for the upcoming year. Artists are completely self-directed, although they’re asked to speak to tour groups that come through the facility. At the end of the residency, Recology hosts a public exhibition at the artist studio, adjacent to the dump. Visitors can sift through and claim materials that the artists gathered but didn’t use. Artists leave three pieces with the program for its permanent collection and off-site exhibits. Dozens of pieces from former residents are also on display in the dump’s three-acre sculpture garden.

The program grew out of a project by local artist Jo Hanson. In the 1980s, Hanson began a practice of sweeping the streets in her San Francisco neighborhood and making scrapbooks out of the random items she found. She involved kids in her practice and eventually pitched the idea of an artist residency program to Recology and the San Francisco Department of the Environment. Decisionmakers saw the program as a great way to promote reuse and educate about waste, particularly because curbside recycling had just begun. Recology has recently launched a second artist residency program, called GLEAN, at its Portland, Oregon, facilities.

The current residents are Karrie Hovey and Beau Buck. Hovey is a former industrial designer who is interested in “the bi-product of our buy-product obsession,” she says. One project she had outlined in her proposal has shifted during her residency, since she was not finding the retail packaging-foam and plastics-that she expected to find. “You have access to so much, but you’re also limited by what you find,” she says.

Artist Karrie Hovey has scavenged from paint, books, plexiglass, glass and other materials.

Hovey is using discarded books to create chrysanthemum-like blooms. She has also taken glass, crushed or broken it in different ways and fired it into bricks in the program’s glass kiln, experimenting with the ways that the glass takes on the uneven appearance of ice. She is also working with latex paint, taken from the household hazardous waste disposal area. She pours it onto glass, then peels it off to create strips and other pieces she affixes to plexiglass in grids and patterns. The results highlight our efforts to control nature and to map our world in exacting detail.

Artist Karrie Hovey made these bricks of broken glass using the program’s glass kiln.

Buck is building an intimate greenhouse space with seating for two, using old French doors and Victorian windowpanes. Gathering the materials was hard, he says, because people will carefully pack these architectural pieces onto their trucks, then “throw it as hard as they can” off the trucks. For another project he is using melted-down, purified lead from a found box of bullets. His idea is to use the material, but separate it from the violent themes that the bullets suggest-a purification by reincarnation.

A view into artist Beau Buck’s architectural space.

Buck is also creating a group of stuffed jackrabbits, inspired by a rock-and-roll legend about the burial of Gram Parsons in Joshua Tree. He has sewn them using everything from a pair of cowboy boots to an old fur coat, a back brace belt and a half-woven tapestry he pulled off of a discarded and broken loom.

A discarded tapestry transformed into a jackrabbit by artist Beau Buck.

“This series has really gone in the direction I wanted it to,” he says. “The materials are things I couldn’t get by looking for them.” He explains that the materials he could find at a thrift store or garage sale are too nice, but the discarded pieces have the tattered look he wants to capture.

We still produce a lot of waste in this city. Recology takes 60 truckloads per day to the landfill in Livermore, each truck holding about 25 tons. And most of that trash just isn’t going to be reborn as fine art. But by highlighting the value that remains in our waste, the artist in residence program produces lasting artwork that forces us to think about what we produce, consume and discard. It is a poignant illustration of the lessons of Cradle to Cradle and the ways that we can and should recapture the energy and effort that goes into producing what we ultimately toss away.

1993 artist Marta Thoma’s work, Earth Tear, on display at the San Francisco Dump sculpture garden.

The exhibition featuring Hovey and Buck’s work will take place Friday, May 18, 2012, 5–9 pm and Saturday, May 19, 2012, 1–5 pm at the Recology studio at 503 Tunnel Avenue. This show will also feature student artist Calder Yates.

Follow Untapped Cities on Twitter and Facebook! Get in touch with the author @shanthrax815.

sculpture, waste

Architecture

02/14/12 11:41am

San Francisco’s POPOS Offer a Break from the Daily Downtown Grind

by shannon little

2 Comments

Redwood Grove at the Transamerica Pyramid.

In that standard of oldies radio, “Downtown” (1964), Petula Clark sings about how the bustle of downtown can help you get away from the stresses of your life: “When you’ve got worries, all the noise and the hurry/ seems to help, I know ”” downtown.”

It’s a nice sentiment. But San Francisco’s downtown (the Financial District) has never felt that romantic to me. This is especially true during the daytime when the sidewalks are crowded with office workers rushing to Lee’s Deli or Starbucks. It’s actually pretty stressful down there.

Well, it turns out there is an entire network of mini-oases downtown. These are places where you might actually be able to relax in the midst of the noise and the hurry. They’re privately owned public open spaces (POPOS, for fun), just like the now-famous Zucotti Park in Manhattan.

There are very few publicly owned parks downtown. In their place, the POPOS provide a respite for bike messengers between tags, fresh air for office workers who need a break from their computer screens and co-workers but don’t want to go to a pricey restaurant or a crowded coffeeshop.

Greenhouse at Sansome and Sutter

In all, there are 68 of them in the area covered by the City of San Francisco’s “Downtown Area Plan.” The Downtown Area Plan is based on a philosophy that new development and density creates new needs-like outdoor space for all those office workers-and developers should help to cover the cost of meeting those needs, according to Josh Switzky, of the San Francisco Planning Department.

Although some POPOS predate the Downtown Area Plan, the 1985 plan included specific requirements about the amount of public space that a private developer must provide. According to a 2008 report by San Francisco Planning and Urban Research (SPUR), these provisions are a condition of obtaining development approvals. Standards also relate to things like the hours of public access, the sun and wind exposure, and minimum levels of seating and tables.

The POPOS run the gamut from parks to plazas to urban gardens to walkways. Some, like the redwood grove at the base of the Transamerica Pyramid, a 15th-floor terrace at 343 Sansome, and a sparkling sun terrace at 100 First Street, are total retreats from the rat race-peaceful, removed from traffic, designed with gurgling fountains and mature trees. Others, like a two-story atrium at 101 Second Street and a huge greenhouse built into a former bank building at the corner of Sutter and Sansome, are airy, bright and covered spaces usable even on rainy days. And others, unfortunately, like a narrow strip of seating and tragic planters at 45 Fremont Street or the sterile plaza in front of 101 California (decorated with weirdly plastic-looking and always blooming flowers), feel uncomfortably corporate.

Sun terrace at 343 Sansome

Switzky, of the Planning Department, noted some POPOS are better-and better utilized-than others. His favorites include plazas at 555 Mission Street and 565 Mission Street, which display interesting artwork. Another favorite is Trinity Ally, a roadway closed to traffic and paved with a cobblestone effect. Café tables give it a European feel. He holds these up as model POPOS because they feel public-they are a “natural extension of the public realm and the circulation system,” and they are well integrated with the buildings around them.

Of course, since POPOS are privately owned, they come with a unique set of issues. The San Francisco design group, Rebar, has pointed out that the POPOS are heavily monitored by private building owners. Building owners maintain the POPOS and enforce their own rules. It is likely that security guards shoo away members of the public who don’t look or act like your average office worker. Rebar highlighted this issue in 2007 by holding a mass “nap-in” in an indoor park at 55 Second Street. Despite the humorous tone, the “nap-in” raised serious questions about arbitrary enforcement and unequal access. In addition, while the city has jurisdiction to enforce permit conditions (like hours of public access), enforcement is not the highest priority. Finally, given the drop-off in downtown construction in the past few years, the city has had few hooks to create new spaces or impose new conditions on existing spaces. Switzky said that the city is looking into other mechanisms, like development fees or infrastructure financing districts, that could be used to increase open space downtown. They have not yet been fully explored or implemented.

These are interesting issues. Still, the fact is, I was thrilled to discover that there are so many spots downtown that have been set aside specifically so that I have somewhere to eat my sandwich and do the crossword puzzle. I might not totally agree with Petula that downtown is a place where I can forget all my troubles, forget all my cares (and I hate to think I’m so cheesy that I get my wisdom from oldies radio), but I certainly do have a new interest and enthusiasm to explore and take advantage of as many of the downtown POPOS as I can.

Greenhouse at 101 Second Street

Click here for a map and guide to all 68 POPOS compiled by SPUR.

Follow Untapped Cities on Twitter and Facebook. Get in touch with the author @shanthrax815.

public art

Arts & Culture

09/29/11 9:02am

San Francisco Photographer Turns Spotlight on BART-Based Performers

by shannon little

4 Comments

How much time do you give a street performer to capture your attention? And how much less time do you give them when you’re trudging through a BART station on your way to work? Local photographer Peter Taylor is taking his time to highlight the cast of characters that fills Bay Area transit stations through his website, BART Musicians.

Peter began his project so that he could photograph “old, haggard, gnarly faces” and practice his lighting techniques on subjects who would be standing in the same place for at least a few minutes. It is a challenge to take the sour, flat lighting of a BART station and make the performers look glamorous, as if they were on stage, and to work with the different settings and station backgrounds. The project also feeds into Peter’s own tendency toward “obsessive collectorism.” He has photographed 40 or 50 people so far and meets new people every time he goes out.

Over time Peter has become swept up in the stories of the musicians he has met. “The reasons people are down there are much more varied than I expected. I expected more of them to be homeless or have some other social problem.” Instead, while there are some people who are struggling with those issues, there are also working musicians who use the BART as a practice space, travelers who busk in San Francisco once or twice, and long-termers who play for years in the same spot.

Aerin Monroe at Berkeley station

Peter always gets permission from musicians before he takes any pictures. He always tips. And the musicians can do anything they want with the digital photos he posts on his blog.

There are, however, limitations to Peter’s project. He works fulltime and can only shoot on his days off. And even on those days, the morning rush hour is just a little too early. And because the musicians’ performances aren’t scheduled, he may miss out on certain people, like the famous punk rocker Johnny Cash of the 24th Street station. Finally, he’s restricted to the lighting and cameras that he can carry in his backpack.

Although Peter’s goal is to give something back to the performers, he worries that there is some element of exploitation built into what he’s doing. For example, he has photographed Melvin Marshal, a long-time performer at Civic Center, who screeches and scronches for hours each day on his two-string violin, seemingly unaware of the passing crowds and the meager tips. “I asked to take a photo, but it was basically in sign language. Does he get it?”

Peter himself is easygoing and respectful of the musicians, putting them at ease as he goes about his business without infringing too much on the performance.

Christa at Powell Street station

On a recent weekday afternoon, I followed Peter on a BART musician expedition. First, we head to the Civic Center BART station, where Peter makes a sweep of the central areas, and then down the long hall that connects to the 8th Street station entrance. Peter explains that this is a preferred performance setting for long-termers and serious musicians-people who play in the same spot for two or three years.

But today we come across Steve and his dog Joesy, a duo Peter has never seen before. Steve is mild mannered, thin, dressed in Dockers and a button-down. Joesy is a German Shepherd mix, chubby with blond fur. Steve is packing up. Peter introduces himself, gives Steve a tip, and explains his project. Steve seems happy to have the attention, and says he’ll play a few more songs so that Peter can take some photos.

As Steve plays his originals-folksy songs about common ground and building bridges-Peter sets lights on the floor around him. Several passersby stop to listen or give money, including a tiny girl who stares open-mouthed at Joesy. A passing woman ducks below Peter’s sightline so that she can drop a dollar in Steve’s guitar case.

Peter explains that his presence sometimes creates a spectacle. “People wonder who this person is-are they so good that I should be paying attention, or are they so bad?” Similarly, a transfixed, cute kid also elicits extra attention from passersby. Still, Peter feels that the impact of his presence on a performer’s bottom line really varies. Some onlookers might not want to walk in front of the camera and therefore won’t drop a dollar that they otherwise would. For this reason, and because performers may get tired while playing in front of a camera, Peter tries to keep his sessions relatively short.

Steve and Joesy take off and we head to Powell Street, which Peter explains is the “circus” of BART stations. “People are not stopping to listen; it’s all tourists and teenyboppers.” As a result, the station draws a different set of musicians, some of whom are more transient or more performative. Out of this circus, Peter focuses on musicians who have an interesting look about them.

Peter spots a guitarist he has never seen before and goes through his routine for first-time contacts. We listen to the music a bit; Peter hands over a tip. He then introduces himself, gives the guitarist a business card, and explains his project. These first moments are crucial, Peter explains, “If I am nervous or stumbling over my words, the whole thing is shot.” Here, the guitarist, Jimmy T, laughs a little at the attention. “I’m just an old, scruffy hippie man,” he jokes as Peter sets up the lights.

Jimmy T lives on Eddy Street. He has long, wavy gray hair held back from his face by sunglasses. He is thin with wide cheekbones and slightly reddened eyes. I can imagine him waking up on this unusually hot San Francisco day, figuring that he can either play his guitar alone in his apartment, or in the BART station where he might make a few bucks to buy a beer.

“With these older guys with guitars, I try to make them look like Keith Richards,” Peter says. And although he starts off quietly, Jimmy T is quickly launches into “Paint It Black,” his voice building as he gets more into the song.

Jimmy T at Powell Street station

Some of the musicians Peter photographs are pretty marginalized people, but he hopes that a glamorous photograph of their performance legitimizes what they’re doing, and gives something back to the musician. Peter shows Jimmy T a few of his photos, and Jimmy seems pleased with what a rock star he is.

Peter’s efforts to give something back to the performers also influences his timing. He tries to post new photographs within one or two days of the shoot: “Jimmy T is not going to check the web after that. My business card will be on the floor, and I’ll just be some guy who showed up and took advantage of him.”

After Jimmy T finishes and takes off, we hear another musician start up on the other side of the station. This is Derek Schultz, guitarist for the local band Owl Paws. Peter has photographed Derek and his band before, and Derek invites Peter to their upcoming shows at the Hemlock Tavern and Bottom of the Hill. Derek is an example of the BART musician population that is not in it for the money; rather, he’s using the BART station as a public practice space and marketing opportunity.

Our last stop is in Berkeley, where Aerin Monroe is playing. This is the first time that Peter has scheduled shoot with a musician; Aerin had come across the BART Musicians blog and reached out to Peter.

Aerin Monroe at Berkeley station

We hear Aerin playing as we arrive in the station. He has set himself up at the base of the escalators, in front of a brick wall, and his Jeff Buckley-esque voice echoes up to the tall ceilings.

Aerin is sandwiched between two posters. Advertisements tend to distract the viewer, but Peter does not ask him to move. “I’m kind of against moving people, for documentary reasons. I don’t want to upset them. I mean, he was standing in that spot, playing that song.” Peter wants to glamorize the musicians, but he does not want the scene to be entirely staged.

And here it works out. By moving back, almost behind the escalators, Peter is able to capture a shot of a bystander approaching Aerin’s guitar case. The stagey lighting is juxtaposed against this ordinary event-a woman takes the time to notice Aerin as she rushes through her normal work day. The photograph also tells an interesting story: Aerin is a hugely talented and well known musician in San Francisco-a rock star-and he’s also playing in the Berkeley subway station. “I’m so glad that someone is noticing this guy,” a bystander says to me, “The first time I saw him he was playing Cee Lo, and he sounded just like him.”

Earl Gadsden, the first musician to appear on Peter’s site

Peter never records any audio from the performances, but he is trying to hook up Earl Gadsden, a keyboardist, with studio recording artists. “[Earl] needs to be recorded. I want to hear that recording,” Peter says. But for most performers, the exchange of a song for a photograph is the extent of it. “In an hour, 20 or 30 people will take bad photos of them on their iPhones, so to have something taken with good lighting and a quality camera, that in itself is rewarding.”

BART

Architecture

08/13/11 1:15am

San Francisco Parklets Provide New Public Waysides

by shannon little

3 Comments

Cyclists enjoy a parklet along Valencia Street near 20th Street. This is the only parklet in front of a private residence.

Want to sit while you sip your coffee? Need to soak in a bit of sunshine and fresh air? Or are your feet weary after a walk through the neighborhood? San Francisco’s new parklets program invites you to take a seat. Dozens of new public mini-parks and mini-plazas are cropping up around the city, thanks to an innovative program that is constructing them right into the city’s streets.

Parklets are small, permanent public spaces offering seating and creative landscaping in areas previously dedicated to one or two parallel parking spaces. Located mostly in front of cafes, parklets came out of a city-wide effort to establish creative uses of parking lanes, uses other than car storage, according to Andres Power, Program Manager for the San Francisco Planning Department’s Pavement to Parks program.

The city recently adopted a Better Streets Plan, which seeks to improve the experience of pedestrians and meet social, recreational and ecological needs. “We wanted to have areas where activities could extend from the sidewalk into the street,” says Power. The parklet program provides additional public space in a cheap and pragmatic (e.g. fast and simple) way. Following the example of European sidewalk cafes and Park(ing) Day, an international effort to temporarily transform parking spots into public spaces, the city launched its first experimental parklet in March 2010.

That first parklet was built in front of the Mojo Bicycle Café on Divisidero Street. Six more trial locations followed, and currently dozens of parklets dot the city. While North Beach and Valencia Street already have multiple parklets, Power is looking to expand the program into more neighborhoods. At this point the city has accepted two rounds of permit applications.

The original parklet: in front of Mojo Bicycle Cafe on Divisidero Street.

Applicants, such as a café, shop, or private resident, fund the design, construction and maintenance of the parklet. Application fees cover most of the city’s processing costs, making parklets essentially free for the city. Some parking meter funds are lost, but some argue that those funds are recouped through increased commerce and sales tax revenue.

This Noe Valley parklet, along 24th Street, is a great spot to watch the fog roll in over Twin Peaks.

The parklet program makes clear that these are public spaces. If a café provides seating in a parklet that customers may use, the furniture must differ in appearance from its indoor counterparts. Going forward, all parklets must include at least some bench seating, rather than just tables and chairs, because benches more clearly convey that the area is public.

While the city encourages creative design, the program has been framed to be financially accessible, keeping to a minimum application costs and design requirements. Moreover, in some areas, applicants have raised funds from neighbors to cover costs or received donated design expertise. The Mayor’s office also has some available funds for applicants.

The parklet in front of FourBarrel, on Valencia Street at 15th Street, includes high benches, hanging bicycle racks and lattices.

Parklets are one of those rare initiatives that has not met with any real resistance, according to Power. Some neighbors have raised objections due to potential noise issues, but the loss of a parking space does not seem to have raised any hackles. Power explains that generally merchants complain about losing parking, but in this case, since the merchants are requesting the parklet, they are anticipating benefits from the additional space. Those merchants who value parking in front of their stores or restaurants do not have to participate in the program, leaving everyone happy. In addition, the Mayor’s office has directed city departments to favorably review parklet applications, encouraging the parklets project’s success.

A map of all existing and planned parklets is maintained here. So, find a sunny spot to enjoy your beer or coffee, chat with your neighbors, or simply rest your feet and watch the fog roll in. San Francisco’s new parklets program ensures that there is no shortage of scenic lounging locales to meet those needs.

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