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Naked City: The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Places
As cities have gentrified, educated urbanites have come to prize what they regard as "authentic" urban life: aging buildings, art galleries, small boutiques, upscale food markets, neighborhood old-timers, funky ethnic restaurants, and old, family-owned shops. These signify a place's authenticity, in contrast to the bland standardization of the suburbs and exurbs.
But as Sharon Zukin shows in Naked City, the rapid and pervasive demand for authenticity -- evident in escalating real estate prices, expensive stores, and closely monitored urban streetscapes -- has helped drive out the very people who first lent a neighborhood its authentic aura: immigrants, the working class, and artists. Zukin traces this economic and social evolution in six archetypal New York areas -- Williamsburg, Harlem, the East Village, Union Square, Red Hook, and the city's community gardens -- and travels to both the city's first IKEA store and the World Trade Center site. She shows that for followers of Jane Jacobs, this transformation is a perversion of what was supposed to happen. Indeed, Naked City is a sobering update of Jacobs' legendary 1961 book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
Like Jacobs, Zukin looks at what gives neighborhoods a sense of place, but argues that over time, the emphasis on neighborhood distinctiveness has become a tool of economic elites to drive up real estate values and effectively force out the neighborhood "characters" that Jacobs so evocatively idealized.
"This is scholarship with its boots on the ground, challenging us to look at the familiar in a new light."
--The Boston Globe
"A highly readable narrative...a revelation, no matter where you live."
--The Austin Chronicle
"Provocative."
--San Francisco Chronicle
But as Sharon Zukin shows in Naked City, the rapid and pervasive demand for authenticity -- evident in escalating real estate prices, expensive stores, and closely monitored urban streetscapes -- has helped drive out the very people who first lent a neighborhood its authentic aura: immigrants, the working class, and artists. Zukin traces this economic and social evolution in six archetypal New York areas -- Williamsburg, Harlem, the East Village, Union Square, Red Hook, and the city's community gardens -- and travels to both the city's first IKEA store and the World Trade Center site. She shows that for followers of Jane Jacobs, this transformation is a perversion of what was supposed to happen. Indeed, Naked City is a sobering update of Jacobs' legendary 1961 book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
Like Jacobs, Zukin looks at what gives neighborhoods a sense of place, but argues that over time, the emphasis on neighborhood distinctiveness has become a tool of economic elites to drive up real estate values and effectively force out the neighborhood "characters" that Jacobs so evocatively idealized.
"This is scholarship with its boots on the ground, challenging us to look at the familiar in a new light."
--The Boston Globe
"A highly readable narrative...a revelation, no matter where you live."
--The Austin Chronicle
"Provocative."
--San Francisco Chronicle
312 pages, Paperback
First published November 16, 2009
58 people are currently reading
1614 people want to read
About the author
Sharon Zukin
16 books25 followersSharon L. Zukin (born September 7, 1946) is a professor of sociology who specializes in modern urban life. She teaches at Brooklyn College and the Graduate Center, City University of New York. As of 2014, she was also a distinguished fellow in the Advanced Research Collaborative at the CUNY Graduate Center and chair of the Consumers and Consumption Section of the American Sociological Association. Zukin was a visiting professor at the University of Amsterdam in 2010–11.
Zukin's research interests and analytical framework place her in the broad category of Neo-Marxist social thinkers. She began teaching urban sociology just as the “new urban sociology” was emerging, partly in response to a series of urban riots (many of which involved African-Americans reacting to police brutality or other manifestations of systemic racism) that took place in U.S. cities in the late 1960s. Widespread urban unrest in the U.S. and Europe prompted worried governments and agencies to increase the funding for urban research. Sociologist Manuel Castells and geographer David Harvey were two of the theorists influential in developing the new urban sociology.
Zukin's research interests and analytical framework place her in the broad category of Neo-Marxist social thinkers. She began teaching urban sociology just as the “new urban sociology” was emerging, partly in response to a series of urban riots (many of which involved African-Americans reacting to police brutality or other manifestations of systemic racism) that took place in U.S. cities in the late 1960s. Widespread urban unrest in the U.S. and Europe prompted worried governments and agencies to increase the funding for urban research. Sociologist Manuel Castells and geographer David Harvey were two of the theorists influential in developing the new urban sociology.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
November 5, 2014
A curiously uninformative look at the gentrification of a selection of New York neighbourhoods, heavy on local detail (so much so it gets pretty boring) but low on analysis. The history of each area's gentrification is studied closely, but there's no real attempt to see where it might be heading or what it means for larger society. An emphasis on food and the idea of authenticity as a driving force behind gentrification is interesting, but there's no acknowledgement of the complex political and psychological reasons for this. I was left wondering if gentrification is a big enough subject for a book this length. I'm sure it is in better hands.
August 12, 2016
From my master's thesis (academic language alert), a quick rundown of this book.
Sharon Zukin’s introduction to Naked City (2009) articulates a dialectic relationship between the search for “authentic origins” and the desire for ever more upscale urban consumption. Zukin’s study, subtitled “the death and life of authentic urban places,” cautions urbanists from pursuing a “feeling” of authenticity – small cafes, historic buildings, active sidewalk life – without careful attention to the nuanced cultural ecology of existing residents. Without such attention policy makers, designers, and developers risk destroying livelihoods and social capital that has been tenuously and passionately cultivated (or at least, hung on to) for generations.
As Zukin continues to explore the role of authenticity in the “upscaling” of New York City, she finds that authenticity in fact fuels a new kind of upscaling, in which “the experience of origins [sic]” becomes a component of the city’s pro-affluence policies, such as “preserving historic buildings and districts, encouraging the development of small-scale boutiques and cafes, and branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities” (p. 2). In this process, “authenticity has little to do with origins and a lot to do with style;” a symbolic object of consumption that represents taste, uniqueness, a clear indicator of prestige and luxury in our mass-produced society. “Any group that insists on the authenticity of its own tastes in contrast to others’ can claim moral superiority” in this system, argues Zukin. Through this process, as she describes, minority and working-class neighborhoods, traditional shops, industrial districts and working waterfronts, become an instrument of economic and cultural power, rather than places of oppositional identity or economic opportunity.
Zukin traces the mechanisms by which heritage, working-class origins, and racial diversity becomes branded as “cool” in a number of New York neighborhoods, and comes upon another process through which “authenticity” is claimed by wealthy or educated new residents: the culture of “grittiness.” In her study of the transformation of Brooklyn, she traces the evolution of the word “gritty” in American culture from the mid-20th century, when it referred to the “style and substance of…film noir movies, ” through the 1970s, when it described “factory towns and urban neighborhoods that were squeezed by plant shutdowns” (p. 51), to the present. The present definition, which identifies “‘gritty’ with a direct experience of life, ” began with the vogue for Brooklyn’s “art galleries, performance spaces, and artisanal beer” in the mid-1990s, conflating “former industrial neighborhoods,” the frontier of urban development, and cultural excitement with this single word (p. 52). Grittiness, then, is a fundamentally aesthetic concept, representing the visual cues of urban decay and post-industrial “blight” as instruments for constructing the cultural cache of the authentic.
Zukin goes out of her way to reiterate that authenticity does not have to do with existing people, or practices, and that it may indeed not even derive from an accurate understanding of the past of a place. Rather, authenticity is constructed by new residents of a neighborhood based on the gritty aesthetics that they have inherited – or, more likely, selected – and appropriated in order to define an elite cultural image. This process begins with “hipster” colonization in search of affordable rents, flexible spaces and industrial-chic, and then is followed by the approval of connoisseurs and cultural elite (such as the art dealers and critics in Brooklyn), and finally the establishment of a “brand” of authenticity that is produced and consumed as a luxury good by a general public. Because authenticity, as Zukin understands it, has little relationship to existing residents or fully understood history, then, the establishment of authentic-looking places and neighborhoods must be understood not as a preservation, learning, or equity-driven practice, but rather as an economic development (and even colonization) one, facilitated by government policies for the purpose of growing their tax base.
Sharon Zukin’s introduction to Naked City (2009) articulates a dialectic relationship between the search for “authentic origins” and the desire for ever more upscale urban consumption. Zukin’s study, subtitled “the death and life of authentic urban places,” cautions urbanists from pursuing a “feeling” of authenticity – small cafes, historic buildings, active sidewalk life – without careful attention to the nuanced cultural ecology of existing residents. Without such attention policy makers, designers, and developers risk destroying livelihoods and social capital that has been tenuously and passionately cultivated (or at least, hung on to) for generations.
As Zukin continues to explore the role of authenticity in the “upscaling” of New York City, she finds that authenticity in fact fuels a new kind of upscaling, in which “the experience of origins [sic]” becomes a component of the city’s pro-affluence policies, such as “preserving historic buildings and districts, encouraging the development of small-scale boutiques and cafes, and branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities” (p. 2). In this process, “authenticity has little to do with origins and a lot to do with style;” a symbolic object of consumption that represents taste, uniqueness, a clear indicator of prestige and luxury in our mass-produced society. “Any group that insists on the authenticity of its own tastes in contrast to others’ can claim moral superiority” in this system, argues Zukin. Through this process, as she describes, minority and working-class neighborhoods, traditional shops, industrial districts and working waterfronts, become an instrument of economic and cultural power, rather than places of oppositional identity or economic opportunity.
Zukin traces the mechanisms by which heritage, working-class origins, and racial diversity becomes branded as “cool” in a number of New York neighborhoods, and comes upon another process through which “authenticity” is claimed by wealthy or educated new residents: the culture of “grittiness.” In her study of the transformation of Brooklyn, she traces the evolution of the word “gritty” in American culture from the mid-20th century, when it referred to the “style and substance of…film noir movies, ” through the 1970s, when it described “factory towns and urban neighborhoods that were squeezed by plant shutdowns” (p. 51), to the present. The present definition, which identifies “‘gritty’ with a direct experience of life, ” began with the vogue for Brooklyn’s “art galleries, performance spaces, and artisanal beer” in the mid-1990s, conflating “former industrial neighborhoods,” the frontier of urban development, and cultural excitement with this single word (p. 52). Grittiness, then, is a fundamentally aesthetic concept, representing the visual cues of urban decay and post-industrial “blight” as instruments for constructing the cultural cache of the authentic.
Zukin goes out of her way to reiterate that authenticity does not have to do with existing people, or practices, and that it may indeed not even derive from an accurate understanding of the past of a place. Rather, authenticity is constructed by new residents of a neighborhood based on the gritty aesthetics that they have inherited – or, more likely, selected – and appropriated in order to define an elite cultural image. This process begins with “hipster” colonization in search of affordable rents, flexible spaces and industrial-chic, and then is followed by the approval of connoisseurs and cultural elite (such as the art dealers and critics in Brooklyn), and finally the establishment of a “brand” of authenticity that is produced and consumed as a luxury good by a general public. Because authenticity, as Zukin understands it, has little relationship to existing residents or fully understood history, then, the establishment of authentic-looking places and neighborhoods must be understood not as a preservation, learning, or equity-driven practice, but rather as an economic development (and even colonization) one, facilitated by government policies for the purpose of growing their tax base.
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November 6, 2011Sharon Zukin is certainly a talented observer, and this is a good addendum to the writings of Jane Jacobs for anyone who's studied how cities become what they are. Especially in the way Jacobs' vision of cities has become perverted since the '60s by dipshit developers-- who really are the Robert Moseses (Mosi?) of our time.
So she studies a set of New York neighborhoods and how "authenticity" is constructed there. The major flaw in her analysis is the way she interprets authenticity as being constructed in a certain way. While her intentions are excellent and she tries pretty hard, her viewpoint is still largely mired in privileged-class assumptions about what authenticity is. So I suppose keep that in mind.
So she studies a set of New York neighborhoods and how "authenticity" is constructed there. The major flaw in her analysis is the way she interprets authenticity as being constructed in a certain way. While her intentions are excellent and she tries pretty hard, her viewpoint is still largely mired in privileged-class assumptions about what authenticity is. So I suppose keep that in mind.
May 20, 2010
Adds important lens of "authenticity" to the discussion of who creates and owns urban neighborhoods. Examines places as seen by gentrifier, hipsters and bloggers who use the experience of consumption-- food (pupusas from vendors in Red Hook) to mark a place as being authentic, not manufactured by private developers.
"...a city is authentic if it can create the experience of origins. This is done by preserving historic buildings and districts, encouraging the development of small-scale boutiques and cafes,and branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities. (3)
Which contrasts with the idea of a city has having origins-- "...suggests instead a moral right to the city that enables people to put down roots. This is the right to inhabit a space, not just to consume it as an experience." (6)
Can you have a corporate city and an urban village?-- this creates what Zukin sees as a crisis of authenticity. If middle-class values and tastes dominate the cultural representations of cities and is used as a message for continued growth then how does that connect with the more democratic notion of cities as being home to diverse groups.
"...a city is authentic if it can create the experience of origins. This is done by preserving historic buildings and districts, encouraging the development of small-scale boutiques and cafes,and branding neighborhoods in terms of distinctive cultural identities. (3)
Which contrasts with the idea of a city has having origins-- "...suggests instead a moral right to the city that enables people to put down roots. This is the right to inhabit a space, not just to consume it as an experience." (6)
Can you have a corporate city and an urban village?-- this creates what Zukin sees as a crisis of authenticity. If middle-class values and tastes dominate the cultural representations of cities and is used as a message for continued growth then how does that connect with the more democratic notion of cities as being home to diverse groups.
May 14, 2010
Zukin clearly knows her stuff when it comes to NYC gentrification processes, but her approach is rather harsh and her proximity and direct involvement in the neighborhood doesn't allow for objectivity or enough distance from the subject matter.
March 9, 2010
The first hundred fifty pages are cringe-worthy. Then there is some interesting journalistic stuff on Red Hook and community gardens. Then you're done and you return the book to the store.
January 3, 2014
I was hoping to REALLY like this book... I love New York, I love "authentic places", I love thinking about how gentrification/modernization/development/cultural density can shape a city. Yet, even by non-fiction standards, it never drew me in and I was never really convinced of whatever I was supposed to be convinced of (maybe because I couldn't ever follow one thesis through the incredibly long sentences and lengthy tangents).
Summary: Authentic (gritty, old, artistic, cheap & delicious, dense, detailed) places [when safe] attract lots of people and lots of money until they get too expensive to allow any of the people who made them authentic in the first place to stay and/or the buildings get destroyed because people want to live in this authentic place that is no longer authentic.
This is an interesting complement to the book: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/24/mag...
Summary: Authentic (gritty, old, artistic, cheap & delicious, dense, detailed) places [when safe] attract lots of people and lots of money until they get too expensive to allow any of the people who made them authentic in the first place to stay and/or the buildings get destroyed because people want to live in this authentic place that is no longer authentic.
This is an interesting complement to the book: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/24/mag...
December 1, 2010
I liked it a lot-probably a lot because I just moved here and so feel like I have to absorb as much NYC as possible as fast as possible.
I also liked how she framed the questions that we, as gentrifiers(if you fall in that category) who don't want to be negatively labeled as gentrifiers make and support the choices that change our community. I would love some solutions-I thought the conclusion was a bit watered down...but at to me I appreciated the history of how soho came to be a shopping mall and why I don't always enjoy the Village.
I also liked how she framed the questions that we, as gentrifiers(if you fall in that category) who don't want to be negatively labeled as gentrifiers make and support the choices that change our community. I would love some solutions-I thought the conclusion was a bit watered down...but at to me I appreciated the history of how soho came to be a shopping mall and why I don't always enjoy the Village.
November 12, 2013
This is an excellent read if you're interested in the development of cities, from abandoned and crime ridden to exclusive. The author writes from a perspective that I can only describe as bourgeois, but that doesn't detract from the book. While it focuses on New York City specifically, the events described are not at all unique to that locale. As I've read it, I've been able to directly relate each event described to the goings on of my own city, which is undergoing the early-mid stages of gentrification.
December 17, 2011
great book, replace williamsburg with wicker park and harlem with bronzeville or humboldt park and this could've been a book about chicago. really explores the cultural impacts of neoliberalism and how the little choices people make in life do add up. in terms of the condo class, or as she puts it, the latte class, the destruction of the city as an authentic place. i read this book in one day, it was that good.
didntfinish-yet
July 5, 2013Well, I wanted something more substantial than the abysmal Penelope, and this is certainly that. I may be creeping through this for many weeks, rather than reading it straight through with nothing else in between. It's really fascinating, but a leetle bit dry.
June 22, 2016
The subtitle of Sharon Zukin’s book, “The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Places,” puts her work directly in line with Jane Jacobs’s work, echoing the title of Jacobs’s most famous book. Zukin isn’t concerned as much about keeping neighborhoods and towns alive as making them feel alive--making them remain true to their soul. She sees a city’s soul as being bound around the concept of authenticity and worries that towns are becoming less authentic the more that they gentrify.
I have big problems with her idea of authenticity, problems that she herself admits to in her introduction. In defining authenticity, she tries to tie the concept into one of origins. An authentic neighborhood is one somehow in touch with its origins. Thus, a chain store has little to do with a neighborhood and is not tied in with the origins of the people in it and thus not authentic. This seems simple in itself. The issue I have is that what we view as “authentic” is itself a construct, which she admits. Our authentic city is the one that was there when we first lived in the area. Thus, Athens, Georgia, where I live, should have a somewhat derelict downtown on the west side, because that’s how it was when I arrived. Now, fifteen years later, that portion of downtown is thriving--in fact, the entire downtown district is thriving. There are no longer many abandoned buildings, and many of the places I would go--my local friends would go--are gone. In their place are some higher priced alternatives, a few chains, a few stores aimed at younger people (people who are the age I was when I moved here). Go back a generation or two before I arrived, and this portion of downtown was the Hot Corner, an African American sector of downtown, only one of whose businesses still exists (a barbershop). Shouldn’t the “authentic” version of this portion of town then be black? Or could we go back before that, to a time when this sector was housing and not part of a business district at all? What is the “origin”? What is authentic? It’s all a matter of perspective.
Despite that criticism, her critique of gentrification and her observations about it in the case studies she does of neighborhoods in New York is fascinating and shows that there is a certain cause for concern. Gentrification comes at price--and any given sector of town goes through a cycle (one explained years ago in a human geography course I took). Perhaps, the neighborhood is largely one of immigrants from Ireland. As they grow more prosperous, they tend to move out or to change the neighborhood itself. Perhaps, another set of immigrants moves in--Italians. In seeking “authenticity”--some kind of unique experience one can’t get elsewhere in the city--hipsters and artists begin to visit the Italian neighborhood. It’s relatively cheap too, so some move there from more expensive districts. Soon, there’s a thriving hipster/art scene among the architecture forged by previous rounds of immigrant families. As the neighborhood becomes more and more popular, commercial elements begin to move in to be a part of it, eventually making it too expensive for the artists who made the neighborhood thrive. The Italian quotient is long since gone, as is what made the neighborhood actually unique. It’s lost its “soul.” (But are commercial ventures necessarily soulless? I ask. Aren’t bright-lit signs and lots of business a sort of spirit inhabiting a district, making it what it is? And when this grows dull, then the area will lose popularity, and the poor and/or immigrant populations will return, and the cycle will start afresh.)
Williams begins her case study with Williamsburg, in Brooklyn. Once an immigrant district for Poles, it was discovered by musicians and artists and became a kind of haven for them from Manhattan, which had become too expensive. With time, as hipster cafes have populated the area, higher rents and more commercial ventures have moved in and is now beginning to push the artists out. We lost the Polish vibe and now the hipster vibe is losing steam too.
Next, Zukin goes to Harlem, the famous black neighborhood. Here she sees an example of a case where the local community and government agents colluded to actually change the neighborhood. As residents worked to get more businesses to move to the area, the very success of the work has led to them being priced out of the neighborhood. Now, white folks are moving in, enjoying the local/originary soul food as well as the new ethnic eateries that have moved in to take advantage of the wealthier clientele.
She then turns her attention to the East Village, an area that has historically included a number of lower class elements and artistic elements, attracted by the lower cost of living. This vibe has attracted an ever more expensive set of commercial forces, which in turn has caused much of what made the village at any one time its unique self to be shut down in favor of the more well-to-do. The cycle is one that is moving to ever more pricey ventures and to ever more standardization.
In the second half of the book, Zukin looks at ventures more than she looks at neighborhoods. She starts with Union Square, telling its history as a center for social protest and community gathering. The area fell into disrepute, however, sometime after World War II, as the city lacked resources to police it and care for it. Local businesses stepped to the fore and created a business improvement district to take care of the park. For a small fee raised by themselves on themselves and paid to the city but fed back to them for the park, they are able to hire park caretakers and make decisions about how the park should look. The issue is that these caretakers are private businesses, so what was once a public park in some sense is now a private venture. Private security forces decide who should be able to gather and protest; parts of the park are sold off for a restaurant venture that the “public” can enjoy. And so on. We have then the privatization of the commons--but one that makes the park safe again and a place of destination. Which is preferred? A dangerous public park that is open to less-welcome sectors of society or a semiprivate safe one that is closed off to those whose voices already are repressed?
Next we move to an area of Brooklyn where Ikea built a new store and where Hispanic immigrants gather each weekend to play soccer and sell authentic Latin American food. Folks had problems with the traffic Ikea would generate and other ways in which the chain was not “true” to the area. And yet, it has brought with it jobs and interest in a derelict part of town. Meanwhile, the immigrant food stands in the park each weekend offer locals good ethnic cuisine. As time has gone on, however, the clientele has changed. Whereas early on the food was made mostly for other immigrants, now a large chunk of the customers are curious foodies from other parts of the city. And as that has happened, the cuisine has changed as well--to appeal to the new audience. “Authenticity” is slowly being lost. And the city itself is now cracking down on the food makers, insisting they follow regulations.
Community gardens get their share of attention in this book as well. Created often in areas that had little development or were actually becoming dis-developed during New York’s days on the skid, the gardens became centers for local residents to get good local produce. However, not being the landowners, as the city has gentrified and the real estate come under demand, many such gardens have been pushed off the land in favor of redevelopment. Now, the poor are less taken care of; and for those from the middle class who enjoyed the local produce, an “authentic” portion of the community is being lost to high rises.
The overall tendency, Zukin points to, is toward homogenization--at the city level. As cities aim to "brand" themselves as cool places, more and more of them offer similar experiences. Every city of note has a modern art museum, for example. I would contend, however, that that is not necessarily a bad thing. Local residents should have access to similar conveniences and experiences. One should not have to travel to New York City for art. And the differences between art museums would still remain--this city has that artwork, this other city has that other artwork--such that people will still travel to destinations, because there is still difference. There is difference--always--because there are different landscapes and climates. Even if all cities offer skyscrapers and parks, few will find the cityscape of one megatown the same as another.
Zukin's main issue, though, is with chains, insofar as they contribute to that homogenization. As they take over a city district, the mom-and-pop stores disappear, and "authenticity" is lost to more of the same. This is where she departs from Jacobs's views. Jacobs, Zukin argues, was arguing from a particular timeframe of gentrification and could not see the whole picture. Jacobs argued that government was the problem and that the private sector community would do a better job of making for livable areas. She did not foresee sky-high rents being levied on "old" buildings such that only chains could afford old or new buildings. Zukin sees government regulation as a solution, but one that is usually not employed. The issue is that the government is usually in cahoots with the moneyed interests, which means that it encourages homogenization because that's more taxes. Rather than helping out the immigrant eateries or the community gardens, it adds regulations and drives those resources away. If on the other hand, the government zoned and regulated to encourage such endeavours, the soul of cities could be maintained.
I'd said that I see the description of gentrification as being simply the upturn of a cycle that goes round and round, but Zukin's point does have some precedent. There are communities that have banned chain and franchise stores. I think of Sedona, Arizona, where chain stores line the city boundaries (or at least they did back in the late 1980s, when I visited); inside the city there are only mom-and-pop places. In this way, the town is kept "authentic." At the same time, I hate to think of property owners having limitations put on them with regard to what can be put on their land or how much they can accrue from that land. If the community--including landowners--agrees to such restrictions, however, then there is little to be miffed about.
I have big problems with her idea of authenticity, problems that she herself admits to in her introduction. In defining authenticity, she tries to tie the concept into one of origins. An authentic neighborhood is one somehow in touch with its origins. Thus, a chain store has little to do with a neighborhood and is not tied in with the origins of the people in it and thus not authentic. This seems simple in itself. The issue I have is that what we view as “authentic” is itself a construct, which she admits. Our authentic city is the one that was there when we first lived in the area. Thus, Athens, Georgia, where I live, should have a somewhat derelict downtown on the west side, because that’s how it was when I arrived. Now, fifteen years later, that portion of downtown is thriving--in fact, the entire downtown district is thriving. There are no longer many abandoned buildings, and many of the places I would go--my local friends would go--are gone. In their place are some higher priced alternatives, a few chains, a few stores aimed at younger people (people who are the age I was when I moved here). Go back a generation or two before I arrived, and this portion of downtown was the Hot Corner, an African American sector of downtown, only one of whose businesses still exists (a barbershop). Shouldn’t the “authentic” version of this portion of town then be black? Or could we go back before that, to a time when this sector was housing and not part of a business district at all? What is the “origin”? What is authentic? It’s all a matter of perspective.
Despite that criticism, her critique of gentrification and her observations about it in the case studies she does of neighborhoods in New York is fascinating and shows that there is a certain cause for concern. Gentrification comes at price--and any given sector of town goes through a cycle (one explained years ago in a human geography course I took). Perhaps, the neighborhood is largely one of immigrants from Ireland. As they grow more prosperous, they tend to move out or to change the neighborhood itself. Perhaps, another set of immigrants moves in--Italians. In seeking “authenticity”--some kind of unique experience one can’t get elsewhere in the city--hipsters and artists begin to visit the Italian neighborhood. It’s relatively cheap too, so some move there from more expensive districts. Soon, there’s a thriving hipster/art scene among the architecture forged by previous rounds of immigrant families. As the neighborhood becomes more and more popular, commercial elements begin to move in to be a part of it, eventually making it too expensive for the artists who made the neighborhood thrive. The Italian quotient is long since gone, as is what made the neighborhood actually unique. It’s lost its “soul.” (But are commercial ventures necessarily soulless? I ask. Aren’t bright-lit signs and lots of business a sort of spirit inhabiting a district, making it what it is? And when this grows dull, then the area will lose popularity, and the poor and/or immigrant populations will return, and the cycle will start afresh.)
Williams begins her case study with Williamsburg, in Brooklyn. Once an immigrant district for Poles, it was discovered by musicians and artists and became a kind of haven for them from Manhattan, which had become too expensive. With time, as hipster cafes have populated the area, higher rents and more commercial ventures have moved in and is now beginning to push the artists out. We lost the Polish vibe and now the hipster vibe is losing steam too.
Next, Zukin goes to Harlem, the famous black neighborhood. Here she sees an example of a case where the local community and government agents colluded to actually change the neighborhood. As residents worked to get more businesses to move to the area, the very success of the work has led to them being priced out of the neighborhood. Now, white folks are moving in, enjoying the local/originary soul food as well as the new ethnic eateries that have moved in to take advantage of the wealthier clientele.
She then turns her attention to the East Village, an area that has historically included a number of lower class elements and artistic elements, attracted by the lower cost of living. This vibe has attracted an ever more expensive set of commercial forces, which in turn has caused much of what made the village at any one time its unique self to be shut down in favor of the more well-to-do. The cycle is one that is moving to ever more pricey ventures and to ever more standardization.
In the second half of the book, Zukin looks at ventures more than she looks at neighborhoods. She starts with Union Square, telling its history as a center for social protest and community gathering. The area fell into disrepute, however, sometime after World War II, as the city lacked resources to police it and care for it. Local businesses stepped to the fore and created a business improvement district to take care of the park. For a small fee raised by themselves on themselves and paid to the city but fed back to them for the park, they are able to hire park caretakers and make decisions about how the park should look. The issue is that these caretakers are private businesses, so what was once a public park in some sense is now a private venture. Private security forces decide who should be able to gather and protest; parts of the park are sold off for a restaurant venture that the “public” can enjoy. And so on. We have then the privatization of the commons--but one that makes the park safe again and a place of destination. Which is preferred? A dangerous public park that is open to less-welcome sectors of society or a semiprivate safe one that is closed off to those whose voices already are repressed?
Next we move to an area of Brooklyn where Ikea built a new store and where Hispanic immigrants gather each weekend to play soccer and sell authentic Latin American food. Folks had problems with the traffic Ikea would generate and other ways in which the chain was not “true” to the area. And yet, it has brought with it jobs and interest in a derelict part of town. Meanwhile, the immigrant food stands in the park each weekend offer locals good ethnic cuisine. As time has gone on, however, the clientele has changed. Whereas early on the food was made mostly for other immigrants, now a large chunk of the customers are curious foodies from other parts of the city. And as that has happened, the cuisine has changed as well--to appeal to the new audience. “Authenticity” is slowly being lost. And the city itself is now cracking down on the food makers, insisting they follow regulations.
Community gardens get their share of attention in this book as well. Created often in areas that had little development or were actually becoming dis-developed during New York’s days on the skid, the gardens became centers for local residents to get good local produce. However, not being the landowners, as the city has gentrified and the real estate come under demand, many such gardens have been pushed off the land in favor of redevelopment. Now, the poor are less taken care of; and for those from the middle class who enjoyed the local produce, an “authentic” portion of the community is being lost to high rises.
The overall tendency, Zukin points to, is toward homogenization--at the city level. As cities aim to "brand" themselves as cool places, more and more of them offer similar experiences. Every city of note has a modern art museum, for example. I would contend, however, that that is not necessarily a bad thing. Local residents should have access to similar conveniences and experiences. One should not have to travel to New York City for art. And the differences between art museums would still remain--this city has that artwork, this other city has that other artwork--such that people will still travel to destinations, because there is still difference. There is difference--always--because there are different landscapes and climates. Even if all cities offer skyscrapers and parks, few will find the cityscape of one megatown the same as another.
Zukin's main issue, though, is with chains, insofar as they contribute to that homogenization. As they take over a city district, the mom-and-pop stores disappear, and "authenticity" is lost to more of the same. This is where she departs from Jacobs's views. Jacobs, Zukin argues, was arguing from a particular timeframe of gentrification and could not see the whole picture. Jacobs argued that government was the problem and that the private sector community would do a better job of making for livable areas. She did not foresee sky-high rents being levied on "old" buildings such that only chains could afford old or new buildings. Zukin sees government regulation as a solution, but one that is usually not employed. The issue is that the government is usually in cahoots with the moneyed interests, which means that it encourages homogenization because that's more taxes. Rather than helping out the immigrant eateries or the community gardens, it adds regulations and drives those resources away. If on the other hand, the government zoned and regulated to encourage such endeavours, the soul of cities could be maintained.
I'd said that I see the description of gentrification as being simply the upturn of a cycle that goes round and round, but Zukin's point does have some precedent. There are communities that have banned chain and franchise stores. I think of Sedona, Arizona, where chain stores line the city boundaries (or at least they did back in the late 1980s, when I visited); inside the city there are only mom-and-pop places. In this way, the town is kept "authentic." At the same time, I hate to think of property owners having limitations put on them with regard to what can be put on their land or how much they can accrue from that land. If the community--including landowners--agrees to such restrictions, however, then there is little to be miffed about.
October 10, 2024
A good historical in-depth background on the fastest changing zip codes in NYC, as well as a professor who clearly put time and effort into this book. Unfortunately, is the basis of exactly what is wrong with how we view the urban life and communities we want to live in.
The thesis of the book is blaming this development and the gentry class moving in to the hip and trendy areas and pushing out those that make it great or who have been there, views Jane Jacob’s vision as archaic (disagree), and views Robert Moses’ as stubborn and ruthless (agree). Most of the time, you’ll find the author going back and forth on their words. Are they even pro Jane Jacobs? Anti? Just observing? I’d ask to elaborate but the book quite literally drones on and on about it to the point nothing gets across (maybe a skill issue on my part).
From Williamsburg, Harlem, Lower East Side, East Village, and Union Square, there was a great historical analysis on how these neighborhoods are demographically shifting, how crime has plummeted in these areas, and what the city/state/federal govt have done to bring in public and private investments to these cultural hubs.
It fails to make itself clear on what is the purpose as a reader, as a citizen of these neighborhoods previously and currently, why should I care? These are the same people in the very last chapter vouching for the protection of valuable land in community gardens, the most privileged and gated space to the public, that provides quite literally nothing to the masses compared to private farming in rural or global areas. You have me on the side of Mayor GIULIANA here with this section, insane.
I do like the coverage of highways in the city from Moses was racial and absolutely intended to divide communities, and most of these communities quite literally have so many cars and highways running through them that the easiest fix is congestion pricing, more subways, more protected bike and bus lanes. You will see how fast travel is between neighborhoods without cars taking up the roads.
I also enjoyed the section on regulations towards food in Red Hook. Sure people need to sell fda approved food for safety reasons, but there is way too much red tape that allows the rich to reap the market demand benefits and the poor or immigrant class to miss opportunities. You see it today with NYPD arresting food cart ladies in the subway.
Most neighborhoods in NYC should be covered in skyscrapers and large affordable housing units and I’m tired of hearing otherwise. We have a housing crisis during this book’s time (2009) and the decade and a half after, has only gotten worse.
You don’t want artists to move out because the rich are moving in? Build more affordable housing! Rent is going up? Build more housing! You don’t have enough space? Build taller buildings!!! Quite literally what Williamsburg did to combat rising rents, they changed zoning laws to building waterfront condos for the rich so locals could live in their pre war buildings for cheap. What caused this to later rise again and again was the stoppage of high rises being built and small 2-3 story buildings to stay as the basis of development. NIMBY (not in my backyard) culture is brain rot and selfish, and this book is covered in it. Let developers build in the areas people want to live in, why are we gate keeping neighborhoods? Anyone should be able to live anywhere they want. Supply meets demand for rent prices, it’s quite literally that simple.
The thesis of the book is blaming this development and the gentry class moving in to the hip and trendy areas and pushing out those that make it great or who have been there, views Jane Jacob’s vision as archaic (disagree), and views Robert Moses’ as stubborn and ruthless (agree). Most of the time, you’ll find the author going back and forth on their words. Are they even pro Jane Jacobs? Anti? Just observing? I’d ask to elaborate but the book quite literally drones on and on about it to the point nothing gets across (maybe a skill issue on my part).
From Williamsburg, Harlem, Lower East Side, East Village, and Union Square, there was a great historical analysis on how these neighborhoods are demographically shifting, how crime has plummeted in these areas, and what the city/state/federal govt have done to bring in public and private investments to these cultural hubs.
It fails to make itself clear on what is the purpose as a reader, as a citizen of these neighborhoods previously and currently, why should I care? These are the same people in the very last chapter vouching for the protection of valuable land in community gardens, the most privileged and gated space to the public, that provides quite literally nothing to the masses compared to private farming in rural or global areas. You have me on the side of Mayor GIULIANA here with this section, insane.
I do like the coverage of highways in the city from Moses was racial and absolutely intended to divide communities, and most of these communities quite literally have so many cars and highways running through them that the easiest fix is congestion pricing, more subways, more protected bike and bus lanes. You will see how fast travel is between neighborhoods without cars taking up the roads.
I also enjoyed the section on regulations towards food in Red Hook. Sure people need to sell fda approved food for safety reasons, but there is way too much red tape that allows the rich to reap the market demand benefits and the poor or immigrant class to miss opportunities. You see it today with NYPD arresting food cart ladies in the subway.
Most neighborhoods in NYC should be covered in skyscrapers and large affordable housing units and I’m tired of hearing otherwise. We have a housing crisis during this book’s time (2009) and the decade and a half after, has only gotten worse.
You don’t want artists to move out because the rich are moving in? Build more affordable housing! Rent is going up? Build more housing! You don’t have enough space? Build taller buildings!!! Quite literally what Williamsburg did to combat rising rents, they changed zoning laws to building waterfront condos for the rich so locals could live in their pre war buildings for cheap. What caused this to later rise again and again was the stoppage of high rises being built and small 2-3 story buildings to stay as the basis of development. NIMBY (not in my backyard) culture is brain rot and selfish, and this book is covered in it. Let developers build in the areas people want to live in, why are we gate keeping neighborhoods? Anyone should be able to live anywhere they want. Supply meets demand for rent prices, it’s quite literally that simple.
March 24, 2020
The book is interesting to read if you know NYC or have some interest on the city’s history, urban transformation and especially the impact of gentrification on the authenticity of the urban culture. Zukin focuses on different aspects of urban transformation with respect to redevelopment and rezoning, the role of public and private agents the remaking of the city and the overall death and life of different parts of the city, reflecting upon Jane Jacobs’ earlier work. Zukin uses a variety of resources to enrich her argument, beginning with personel observations, historical narratives and moving onto more ethnographic collections as well as what we could call virtual ethnography off the web. Unfortunately all this rich and detailed narrative on urban transformation and gentrifications remains to be highly descriptive, missing the opportunity to reach some analytical depth. One really has to dig deep in order to bring out the genuine contribution of the book to the fore. There is no comparison, which would have put the NYC experience in context, either by putting it next to Chicago or LA, or maybe further looking at London or Paris.
The most important contribution of this narrative is the way authenticity is used as a sort of umbrella term to tie it all up. Authenticity in this case is not necessarily a thing of the past, representing stability and originality, instead it’s a new understanding based on intertemporality, where cultural forms old and new coexist, are made and remade in relation to each other. I still see this conceptualization to be a bit of a stretch in representing the urban transformation under focus. It’s an intriguing reconceptualization, but to what extent it may have analytical instrumentality for other settings is debatable.
I’d rather see this book as a buoyant narrative of a flaneur rather than an academic text.
The most important contribution of this narrative is the way authenticity is used as a sort of umbrella term to tie it all up. Authenticity in this case is not necessarily a thing of the past, representing stability and originality, instead it’s a new understanding based on intertemporality, where cultural forms old and new coexist, are made and remade in relation to each other. I still see this conceptualization to be a bit of a stretch in representing the urban transformation under focus. It’s an intriguing reconceptualization, but to what extent it may have analytical instrumentality for other settings is debatable.
I’d rather see this book as a buoyant narrative of a flaneur rather than an academic text.
December 6, 2023
Over the course of nearly 300 pages, Zukin fails to hone in on a single argument or point. If the goal of this book was to write an ethnographic study on 3 random neighborhoods in New York City, sure, I'll take it. I think Zukin tried to make her arguments too provocative and creative, and in doing so, completely dismantled any semblance of establishing a pattern in the gentrification of neighborhoods. I literally could not tell you what she was trying to say or whether she's a fan of Jane Jacobs or not.
November 16, 2024
Brooklyn, Harlem, East Village, Union Square, Red Hook, Urban Gardens.
Soulless cities as opposed to authentic cites. It comes and goes. Some grunge helps. Public/private partnerships, places where people gather to play and eat.
We know what it is when we see it. A place where life happens in a city.
Soulless cities as opposed to authentic cites. It comes and goes. Some grunge helps. Public/private partnerships, places where people gather to play and eat.
We know what it is when we see it. A place where life happens in a city.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 21, 2017
It is all about New York and its lack of authenticity.
September 29, 2017
A descriptive work about the way changing demographics alters the nature of NY suburbs. No great insights but an interesting journey nonetheless.
March 19, 2022
disappointing book...
Read
July 7, 2022Good urban soc if you have a grasp on Jacobs and NYC neighborhoods, but without those may be too much barrier to entry.
Read
February 24, 2023definitely should’ve read this in Italian
July 5, 2023
This book is probably the piece that has influenced me the most as a planner. it's so so good
November 13, 2024
"L’altra New York" è un saggio sociologico che esplora non solo l’evoluzione della città di New York, ma anche il concetto stesso di "autenticità" urbana. Sharon Zukin, professoressa di sociologia al Brooklyn College, analizza i profondi cambiamenti vissuti da New York dopo eventi come l'11 settembre e la crisi finanziaria del 2008, con uno sguardo particolare alle sue periferie.
Zukin si interroga su cosa renda autentica una città e come modernità, nuove costruzioni e l'arrivo di catene commerciali possano a volte sembrare in contrasto con l'identità storica e culturale di un luogo, specialmente per chi ci è cresciuto. È possibile mantenere l’anima di una città mentre essa si trasforma con il tempo? Chi può decidere cosa sia autentico e cosa no?
Ammetto che la lettura, pur interessante, ha qualche ripetizione di troppo e avrebbe potuto esplorare il tema con maggiore incisività. Tuttavia, è un titolo di nicchia che consiglio a chi desidera capire meglio la periferia di New York e riflettere sul lato sociale delle grandi metropoli.
Zukin si interroga su cosa renda autentica una città e come modernità, nuove costruzioni e l'arrivo di catene commerciali possano a volte sembrare in contrasto con l'identità storica e culturale di un luogo, specialmente per chi ci è cresciuto. È possibile mantenere l’anima di una città mentre essa si trasforma con il tempo? Chi può decidere cosa sia autentico e cosa no?
Ammetto che la lettura, pur interessante, ha qualche ripetizione di troppo e avrebbe potuto esplorare il tema con maggiore incisività. Tuttavia, è un titolo di nicchia che consiglio a chi desidera capire meglio la periferia di New York e riflettere sul lato sociale delle grandi metropoli.
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November 6, 2014Nothing new in here, really. But I like Zukin's point that creating "a 'destination culture' destroys city dwellers' ability to put down roots" (218).
"Unlike factory owners who in the early days of industry built workers' housing near the mill, media firms that hire creative producers have no interest in whether they can afford to live in the trendy neighborhoods where they have set up shop. They often hire artists, musicians, media producers, and fashion models as freelancers or for specific projects. Lacking a steady job and looking for their next gig, cultural workers are the 'creative types' whom we see eating brunch in Vesterbro at 1 p.m. or tending bar in Williamsburg at 1 a.m. Their life as flexible workers creates a production of leisure and an image of idleness that stage authenticity, helping to make these neighborhoods a cultural destination." (237)
"Unlike factory owners who in the early days of industry built workers' housing near the mill, media firms that hire creative producers have no interest in whether they can afford to live in the trendy neighborhoods where they have set up shop. They often hire artists, musicians, media producers, and fashion models as freelancers or for specific projects. Lacking a steady job and looking for their next gig, cultural workers are the 'creative types' whom we see eating brunch in Vesterbro at 1 p.m. or tending bar in Williamsburg at 1 a.m. Their life as flexible workers creates a production of leisure and an image of idleness that stage authenticity, helping to make these neighborhoods a cultural destination." (237)
July 13, 2014
Sharon Zukin takes you on a detective adventure through NYC, but not in search of a murderer. Instead, she searches for authenticity. She explains how Brooklyn became cool, how Red Hook maintained (sort of)it's ethnicity despite IKEA's entrance, and how Harlem is no longer a ghetto. Zukin explains the effects and affects of gentrification and the pushing of the poor out of the city.
Enjoyable read with an easy style. My only critique is that she has a writer's quirk. She uses the word "though" a lot. And I mean, a lot.
Enjoyable read with an easy style. My only critique is that she has a writer's quirk. She uses the word "though" a lot. And I mean, a lot.
May 5, 2012
Really enjoyed this book. Easy to understand, clearly written. Zukin, following a similar format as Jane Jacobs's Death and Life of Great American Cities, examines "authentic" urban spaces in New York City by looking at various case studies, including some neighborhoods and streets Jacobs references (think reevaluation of the daily ballet). Provokes some thought but very accessible. Hope to read more by Zukin.
July 8, 2012
Really enjoyed this as a simple articulation of the need for our cities and places to be authentic. Zukin presents a clear outline of what the characteristics of an authentic place should be and I particularly like her emphasis on the role of people in that authenticity. The book is about buildings, architecture, planning but underlying it all Zukin includes - sometimes obliquely - that without people then places don't amount to very much. Without people places can't be authentic.
April 4, 2012
While I think this book is very good, I do not think it's great. Zukin brings up some new points, but overall I think that lot of what she has to say about New York has been said. It's time for more urban studies/ history books to branch out.
PS: she mainly lost me when stating that she didn't shop at bodegas. What's up with that??
PS: she mainly lost me when stating that she didn't shop at bodegas. What's up with that??
April 13, 2017
Interesting look at what "authenticity" means to different groups of city residents and how it contributes to gentrification & other kinds of urban change.
I'd love to read the version of this work set in [not New York]...a lot of the issues she discusses would play out differently in a smaller city or different region...
I'd love to read the version of this work set in [not New York]...a lot of the issues she discusses would play out differently in a smaller city or different region...
March 30, 2015
Finished this after returning from my annual trip home to New York. The city is almost unrecognizable. This book really looks at how neighborhoods become brands, and what that means for the city and the people living in it. I imagine that it wouldn't be as easy a read for those not familiar with the city but maybe they aren't running to read it.
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