Visiting Jackson, Wyoming earlier this month, I stumbled upon a local gem: the Everest Momo Shack, a family-owned BYOB where a friend and I feasted on the Nepalese dumplings that give the place its name. We enjoyed it so much that the next afternoon we returned with SOs in tow, but were met with a surprise: a crew of bearded, suntanned and decidedly American cooks were serving up stuffed-to-the-gills breakfast burritos. I chatted with the kitchen staff to confirm the restaurant's split personality: By day, it's a burrito joint; four nights each week, it's the Momo Shack.
Two businesses, each with unique menu and ambience, share one restaurant. My question: why don't relationships like this form more often?
The next time you're waiting at an intersection, look around and imagine how much of the built (and furnished) environment stands empty and unused at any given time. Cafés in the financial district are closed at dinnertime; restaurants that specialize in dinner fare are silent until mid-afternoon; parking lots that fill during the workweek are largely vacant after 6pm and often on weekends.
Now imagine putting those darkened rooms, kitchens, galleries, cafés, outdoor spaces and more to use. What would you fill them with?
We've talked a lot about concepts that conserve embedded energy in the built environment by preserving historic buildings as re-imagined spaces instead of bringing in the wrecking ball and developing new. This idea, however, harnesses another kind of embedded energy -- by creating meaning, activity and experience where there would have been emptiness, waste or worse. It's about using up every bit of urban space to its fullest.
Taking advantage of these spaces, however, requires letting go of (or at least becoming flexible about) another ideal: permanence. Creating harmony when both owner and sharer use the same space fluidly requires a relaxation of control by both parties, and that can take some getting used to.How can we relinquish the idea that ownership equals success; that permanence means we've "made it"? Ownership has its benefits, but renters retain an enviable flexibility, and an even less tangible bonus: the caché of being temporary.
When it grew popular, Aseged moved Radio Africa into more conventional spaces, but sidestepped the need to invest in bricks and mortar. He instead operates a roving restaurant, inhabiting a variety of places, from local cafés to city parks. In addition to cooking classes and custom events, he has maintained ongoing engagements with local establishments during their dark hours. He currently serves dinner on Thursdays and Fridays at Coffee Bar, and will be there through the end of this year. The owners of the space keep the profits from beer and wine sold to Radio Africa's 70 to 80 guests, meaning they generate a handsome return during a time when their doors would have been closed without needing to charge Aseged rent.
"People think you need to have a million dollars to open a restaurant, and that's not true. I started it in my garage for less than $80," he says. The arrangement removes two space-related barriers to entry: both the acquisition and the certification process. As long as Aseged maintains health and food safety certification for himself, he can work in any licensed space.
"I own the idea of a restaurant that exists only if we start serving food," he says. "We don't have overhead; we don't have rent." To Aseged, the mobility is an asset for other reasons as well: Beginning in August, he will begin taking his successful project to international locations, hosting nomadic meals in New York City, Cape Town and possibly Mali.
And Radio Africa has also solved his other problem, by nurturing a unique social environment in which the chef mingles with customers, bringing new conversation to the table. The scene is clearly as much of an attraction as the food itself.
However we design it, there's something magical about transience. The feeling that you're partaking of an experience, an ambience, an event that simply cannot happen the same way again creates an immediate sort of scenius. The quality of impermanence adds a kind of specialness to an everyday activity – visiting a restaurant, crossing a public square, or even taking a walk. Vonnegut mocked the superficial connections between granfalloons – groups of people who attended the same college, or follow a certain sports team. But when the thing you all showed up for is rare and will only happen once, the connection clicks.
What I like is that temporary spaces can be both transcendent and practical at the same time. These exchanges enable innovators to grab hold of useful spaces whose owners haven't previously seen a way to make profitable, and use them to mutual benefit. Even better, they often make our neighborhoods more lively in the process.
What would help make temporary space-sharing a more regular occurrence? A logical first step seems to be making those spaces easier to spot, and connecting the people who own them with people who have ideas for how to use them. Worldchanging ally Keith Harris has provided one sort of online hub (again, here in Seattle) where residents of a neighborhood are discussing future uses for vacant spaces. He's got a map on his site pointing to retail spaces that currently stand empty on the neighborhood's main arterials, which he created in the hopes of providing a useful resource to artistic groups and others in need of affordable space. In order to spur action even more quickly, it might be useful to have a more craigslist-like setup, a Database of Unused Space where space owners can volunteer their locations if they're interested and potential tenants could submit their proposals – removing the bulk of guesswork for both parties. (I mentioned this to Harris, who suggested that, if funding allowed, an internet-based GIS would be the most useful way to organize the information.)
Where have you encountered meaningful instances of sharing space? What worked, what didn't, what temporary installation would you like to see, and what are you inspired to start yourself? Please share your thoughts in the comments:
Top image credit: flickr/paintMonkey, Creative Commons license.
Fabulous. I totally want to have dinner at Radio Africa and Kitchen...
Temporary spaces and events are worth fostering, and in many cases they bring a vitality to projects that wouldn't otherwise be there. This has been true in the art world for a long time. In fact, sometimes having to maintain a dedicated space (with overhead) can completely sink an endeavor (imagine what would have happened to CoCA had they become a touring event phenomena instead of trying to maintain a space). But there is one very large elephant in the room, that I think you tried to touch on with the question of control. It comes down to responsibility: who is liable if things go wrong, who is responsible for cleaning up the loose ends. Burning Man works because people take responsibility for their own needs (water, shelter) and the organizers cover other things (toilets, permits) that help the event fit within the current social structure. One of the biggest hurdles with STart on Broadway was finding out who needed to be reassured that this essential accountability was covered, in order for the permission to be given. Building a system that - beyond identifying possible sites - can answer the basic questions landlords and property managers will have would pave the way for these kinds of projects to get further along. Maybe someone could put together a "kit", complete with questions and answers, resources (ie: insurance companies) and success stories like Vital 5, Free Sheep, the Bridge Project, STart on Broadway, et alia. Take a look at what San Jose did (and does): www.phantomgalleries.com
Temporary is doable, and valuable.
Excellent points, Christian. Thanks.
I wonder what a resource kit for shared space/temporary use would look like?
I'm sure there are storage issues, etc. that Eskender faced, but when people work together with respect and positive energy wonderful things can happen.
I am working on a similar temporary concept pairing senior Executive Chefs with businesses and others who need maturity and expertise.
Thanks for an enlightening post.
What was I saying just yesterday?
This just in: the San Fran Arts Commission announces a new program: http://www.sfartscommission.org/
that they are calling "Art in Storefronts". Catchy. Catching. Very cool.
I loved this post, especially the interdisciplinary approach to an issue that touches on lots of different areas and ideas. Some successful models of "creative infilling" at varying levels of scaleability include Grand Opening's Storefront in NYC's Lower East Side, temporary campaign offices of all kinds, and Zipcar.
Economists have worried over capacity utilization--what to do with unused production potential--for years. Of course when people address this problem in their daily lives it's just common sense, and no fancy terms are required.
Living in New York City I'm fairly accustomed to transience and high turnover, and on a personal level I've made peace with my status as a renter out of necessity! But I suppose cultural norms really determine the (in)compatibility of concepts of impermanence. Unfortunately, I'm pretty cynical about whether Americans in particular will be able to shift their values enough to start sharing (and trusting) in earnest. For the sake of our world--and also because it makes life so much more interesting!--I hope that we can.
p.s. The website PSFK recently addressed this phenomenon on the high end with the emergence of urban pop-up boutiques.
Wonderful article. I myself have marvelled at the atrociously inefficient use of commercial space. Many buildings are vacant a high percentage of the time -- just think how much lower our footprint would be if we consolidated commercial space.
We have no community center in the Fremont-Wallingford neighborhood of Seattle. One of the options we're developing right now is the idea of a "virtual" center that knits together existing parks, school gyms, church kitchens, meeting rooms, studios, and libraries to fulfill our desires for classes, services, and public space -- without building yet another public building that is open 12-9 M-S and meets only limited needs.
It's the human factors of trust, care, respect we need to nurture for space sharing to work out successfully. We've got lots of local examples of shared spaces and equipment that we can learn from -- Phinney Tool Bank, Fremont Powerhouse, Yardsharing, Office Nomads, Zipcar, Community Fitness.
All space is temporary.
Here's another creative way to do it: Guerilla "Urban Country Club," complete with Dumpster swimming pools http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/20/arts/design/20pool.html?_r=1. Their next step is one I like even more: "Copycats are welcome, because Macro-Sea itself is using the project as a template for a larger idea: turning eyesore strip malls into artsy community destinations, with Dumpster pools and other indie attractions."
This is so great! I've been doing this in my chocolate shop for a year now - by night it turns into a live music venue or a yoga studio or an art class space... thanks for encouraging a way of life that benefits ideas and people and the environment.
Oustanding. It gives me thought how such an idea can become a reality in the city of Tucson. There are many artists, businesses that could be brought together to discuss the possibility of such a communal endeavourbecoming a reality in the old pueblo.
Just came across a great article on the NYFA blog (New York Foundation for the Arts) that mentions artists across the country using transitional spaces.
This photos are really attracting we should prefer this such constructions.