Post Date: 11/12/24
The loss of brick-and-mortar stores leads to the deterioration of town and city centers, depriving people of civic spaces. Retail designs that include the local community can help reactivate both the historical civic function of marketplaces and reinvigorate interest in retail districts.
Whatever one’s views of consumerism, it is well-nigh undeniable that the disappearance of brick-and-mortar retail has left an indelible mark on society. This is because the marketplace has always embodied more than the simple practice of economic exchange. The first sign of civic decline is the desertion of retail districts. Eviscerated storefronts and avenues bereft of pedestrian life act as symbols of public deterioration. It is no accident that images of forsaken malls and downtowns are a cliché of post-apocalyptic cinematography.
In classical antiquity, the agora (or marketplace) included the bouleuterion, or meeting place where the city council held court, presciently combining political and commercial functions within a single district. By the 19th century, the Parisian arcades had become centers of commerce and culture, populated with Baudelairian flaneurs, the scenography against which life’s dramas unfolded, a stage as much for viewing as for being seen. The society of spectacle, as Guy Debord would call it, blossoms in the large-scale department stores of the mid-twentieth century, if not “cathedrals of commerce” as the Woolworth Building was once described, at least local parishes, microcosms, social condensers.
We have not yet reckoned with what the actual loss of these districts means as we transition to more prosaic digital marketplaces whose primary attraction is efficiency – something that would have been anathema to the leisurely flaneur of 19th century Paris, or even Thorstein Veblan’s “leisured class,” for whom being seen lounging was itself a symbol of status. Max Weber’s society of conspicuous consumption has been subsumed, replaced by an almost puritanical cupidity, by means of which 21st century “users” engage in unbridled consumerism behind the screens of smartphones. The transition in terminology from “customers” to “users” is apt, insofar as it traces the shift from avocation to compulsion.
Those born before the rise of Amazon and its ilk might well remember bustling malls, shopping centers and retail districts, places more to be amongst people, and only incidentally to shop, than anything else. Younger generations will grow up largely alienated from these types of experiences, as our society becomes increasingly atomized under the aegis of purpose-built algorithms that push, pull and prod “users” to consumables without any of the nuisances of human interaction, and only the illusion of “choice.” The old marketplace (or main street) is being rapidly replaced by decentering datacenters and warehouses; retailers replaced by ubiquitous delivery vans.
Retail and retail spaces are now forced to stage rear guard defensive maneuvers to stave off what seems like inevitable obsolescence, often reinvoking the former civic and cultural functions that marketplaces once served. Since 2016, Wonderspaces has been converting unused mall space into large-scale art galleries. Similarly, high-end retail outlets in Miami’s design district double as cultural institutions – a synergy historically supported by the long-standing relationship between high fashion and fine art, and reinforced by the annual Art Basel fair. The pinnacle of this type of cross-pollination may be Frank Gehry’s Fondation Louis Vuitton, in which the fusion of fashion and culture is complete.
Made in similar mold, David Adjaye’s The Webster in Los Angeles’s Beverly Center gestures to the public functions once supported by robust marketplaces. Twenty percent of the flagship’s 11,000 square feet are dedicated to public spaces. Playing with transitions between exterior, interstitial and interior spaces, Adjaye creates a civic oasis, complete with public fountain, digital art wall and covered pavilion. Exterior and interstitial spaces seamlessly shift into an interior defined by soft lines and sinuous curves, occupied by built-in quasi-organic protrusions that serve as seating and for display. The loose organization and gentle formal palette, combined with the light pink concrete and plaster surface treatment, creates an almost womblike space that radiates warmth and comfort.
Lighting design by BOLD emphasizes the volumetric virtuosity of the design, molding form and accenting textures. The use of brushed aluminum, canopy-mounted, C3O museum object fixtures provides points of visual contrast to the warm pink walls, while subtly referencing the cultural affiliations announced so brazenly in a building like the Fondation. As Adjaye’s office describes it, “The resulting effect is a series of vignettes for the curated merchandise on display.”
The Webster Los Angeles stands in stark contrast to the digital marketplace, offering phenomenal engagement, a sensory experience defined materially, texturally and visually. It stages this experience as a series of slow reveals, punctuated by blurred transitions that defy categorical spatial definitions. The open-endedness of the plan allows for choice and variation, while the interstitial oasis between regional desert ecology and the womb-like interior reintegrates the public function of the town square. The Webster offers an alternative, a response to the hegemony of the digital environment, rooted in experience, it represents a re-instantiation of the marketplace, which includes a reassertion of urban space as rooted, differentiated, phenomenal and public.