I think that there is a middle-class desire, and maybe an almost universal desire, among many human beings to live in clean neighborhoods, among people like themselves, around people with whom they feel comfortable. That can be exclusive, it could be exclusionary. It could be racist, classist, genocidal, and so on. Most people like comfort. Now what provides a sense of comfort varies. I do think that people who like living in cities like small-scale human interaction and they like the social dimensions of aesthetic diversity that Jane Jacobs wrote about.
Artists have been used over and over again since the early 1980s as the legitimizers of a neighborhood in New York. And entrepreneurial artists, meaning people who themselves start out as painters, musicians, dancers, and who open a café, a bar, a restaurant, or even a co-op art gallery - they unintentionally develop the kinds of attractions that bring the middle class with some kind of cultural ambition.
When new businesses open that are trying to attract people with cultural capital or cultural ambitions, they are often more expensive than traditional neighborhood stores and cafés, they offer different products, and they have a different atmosphere. Longtime residents may feel uncomfortable there. Structurally, as a group of gentrifiers gets bigger, there is less room for longtime residents. When it becomes a pattern and you can see the effects, we call that displacement.
I think people like difference. When you walk out the door in New York City, in a mixed-use neighborhood like the Village, you see exciting things! "Oh, this store is closing, that store is opening." And especially if it's not a chain store, then it is interesting because it is unique in some way. The small-scale familiar is also very comforting. Especially in the twenty-first century, when the world is rapidly changing and there are many risky situations, I think we need to build on and protect the comfort that we have in our neighborhoods in a way that does not exclude others.
I think the entrepreneurial activities that make art visible and attractive are what lure people into the amusement park that SoHo has become or that Bushwick or Williamsburg has become. It's not that outsiders come to an area because they hear artists are living there. A lot of people came who were not that interested in living with artists, but they were interested in living like artists and socializing the way that they thought artists socialized.
One of the crucial underpinnings of New York as a culture capital is that there are multiple markets. There is not just one art gallery district, there are several art gallery districts. I feel that there should be art galleries and art studios in every neighborhood without exception. They should be integrated into the social and physical fabric of the streets. If we want a lively city, we can't just have high towers and dense constructions, we have to have living organisms of streets and neighborhoods. And the arts are a crucial part of that.
No matter how many rich people call New York their home, we don't really have enough capital here to build and maintain the infrastructure that a population needs to live. We don't have the federal money, and for-profit investors are just not interested in anything other than making the biggest profit they can.
There are masses of people who need affordable housing in New York. I think that, politically, it is very difficult to give preference to artists over another group. Now, could there be an impressive envisioning process where developers would be asked to collaborate with urban designers? Maybe envision a large-scale development with local shops, dense housing, maybe a few towers, maybe a few mid-rise buildings, and art workshops in the mix? That would be great. I don't see a call for those proposals. But I think that it would not be outrageous to propose that kind of vision.
A lot of us New Yorkers have bought apartments or bought lofts or are struggling to do it because at least that gives you some respite from the inexorable tightening of the screw every year - rent. But that puts you on this treadmill where you are constantly thinking, "Should I sell this place and move somewhere cheaper?" Artists have migrated across the East River and eastward in Brooklyn - as have non-artist populations, apparently going back to the Lenape Indians. There's been a migration to New Jersey, to Philadelphia, and farther afield.
Every New Yorker spends a certain amount of nervous energy thinking, "How can I afford to stay here? What do I have to sell in order to stay here, where I have an economic life and where I like my life?" At least back to the beginning of the twentieth century, New Yorkers have always complained that it's hard to find a decent apartment at a rent you can afford.
As a lover of New York, I hope New York remains as successful as a city, even though the very groups on whom the city depends - like artists - are not finding it easy to stay here. That's what it's been about, really, since the 1980s. You can kind of see that coming in the 1980s even though the rents were ridiculously low compared to what the rents are now.
The existing American laws we use in a pinch just do not adequately protect artists or any other group of rental tenants. For example, artist certification. You can always get around that. Every society that does not want to really protect tenants' rights tries historic preservation. But that says nothing about the right of people to stay in their homes. It says that the building cannot be demolished. But it does not say who is allowed to live in the building.
