(Map of Gowanus Canal and Crossings, Author Unknown)
(View North from Union Street Bridge)
Continuing my explorations on the F-line, I find myself eagerly awaiting the toxic twists and turns of the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn. What is it about the post-industrial landscape that is so appealing? The patina of decayed authenticity stands proudly but cries out for intervention, contrast, and in this case environmental improvement and public accessibility.
(One of the many impediments to access along the canal's length)
Not so much a Canal that flows, but one that skulks, the Gowanus has long been used as a transportation corridor for industry - coal yards, cement works, manufactured gas plants, tanneries, factories for paint, ink, and soap, machine shops, chemical plants, and sulfur production. The fact that the Canal was the first site where chemical fertilizers were manufactured is a testament to its long and continued contribution of substantial water and airborne pollutants. To add insult to injury the combined storm-sewer overflows, once built to assist its restoration, now act as conduits of human effluent during times of heavy rain. The Canal's deathly silence and opaque murkiness reflect its surroundings with candor, revealing their neglect and abuse of this once productive waterway.
(Even the floating infrastructure shows signs of adaptation and growth)
Recent history has seen immense interest from various political constituents, stakeholder groups, and individuals in sparking change, reclamation, and improvement to the canal and its regional community. However, with every action there seems to be an equal and opposite reaction putting its future into a perpetual forward movement that closely resembles my first experiences driving a stick-shift. Hardly the 'Grand Canal of Venice' the Gowanus has a charm that continues to elicit response both for and against change. If nothing else, the passion its existence stirs says something of its wide appeal, or equal disgust. In my experience, it is such openly visceral responses to place that suggest it's something worth fighting for.
My observation and experience of this place is varied; as are the points of access along the canal's circuitous and multi-legged route. The scent of petroleum carefully blended with an aroma of essential oils from a nearby warehouse seem to duel one another in a type of push-pull response that leads to curiosity more than fondness or repulsion. There appear to be very few people or cars that abound, perhaps due to the dead ends one finds at nearly every cross-street. It's few points of crossing are highlighted by one landmarked retractile bridge at Caroll Street. Most bizarre, and certainly an indication of the hedging of bets on a prosperous future was the construction site of a future Whole Foods - if ever there was a sign of impending gentrification.
(Future site of Whole Foods)
With the rush of development proposals in recent years there is little doubt that the site's potential has been exposed. However, this is not San Antonio's River Walk - a picturesque collection of hotels and restaurants - nor does it necessarily want to be. As an outsiders observation, proving people can live on the canal is a direction worthy of, at the very least, a second thought. For every interest seeking to "improve" this place and make it "livable", there is another that seeks to retain the bohemian and layered qualities that make it so desirable. Recently
dlandstudio and others have put forward proposals with laudable goals that address the canal's toxic ailments and suggest a future that is restorative, educational, and productive. Drastically changing the site's character is not their goal. In fact, they seek to integrate and reveal the very qualities that embrace the places' current identity.
The increasing invisibility of industry is perhaps what makes landscapes such as these more than mere spaces. They are places dear to those who have either watched and nurtured its growth, or sought it for its inherently tumultuous qualities and uniqueness, as well as a connection to a past that we know less and less about. As I pass a weathering sign that advertises heating oil I am struck by both the irony and metaphor suggested as to the production of 'solar heat' (indirectly I suppose our petroleum-based industry can take credit for this). A metaphor, perhaps for rebirth or reinvention, the Gowanus Canal elicits excitement and interest because it provokes a fantasy about what is and what may be.
(Gulf Advertisement for Heating Oils . . . and Solar Heat)
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