In describing the qualities necessary for a street to be safe for and because of strangers passing through, Jane Jacobs asserts that "there must be a clear demarcation between what is public space and what is private space. Public and private spaces cannot ooze into each other as they do typically in suburban settings or in projects." (35) In doing so, she makes the erroneous assumption that a space either is or is not public/private, regardless of a person's race, gender, style of dress, and behavior. The question we ought to put to Jacobs is: public for who? Private for who?
In his essay Post-Scripts to Societies of Control Gilles Deleuze gets us much closer to understanding how public and private space work by imagining "a city where one would be able to leave one's apartment, one's street, one's neighborhood, thanks to one's (dividual) electronic card that raises a given barrier; but the card could just as easily be rejected on a given day or between certain hours; what counts is not the barrier but the computer that tracks each person's position--licit or illicit--and effects a universal modulation." Clearly we have not a point where technology is so brazenly applied to control the behavior of individuals, but his vision does adequately describe the basic logic that governs public and private spaces.
A private space is anywhere you can't go without the cops arresting you or someone beating you. A public space is anywhere you can go without the cops arresting you or someone beating you. For a pedestrian, there is no other meaningful definition of public/private places. Clearly, then, a space is not intrinsically private or public. It changes over time. A restaurant is public space during its hours of operation. It is private space at all other times. A space that is public for one person may be private for another. If I walk into a restaurant during its hours of operation there is a limited timeframe (perhaps five minutes, perhaps two hours) in which I might stand in the entrance or sit at a table without signaling any intent to purchase anything before the staff asks me to leave. At that point, intransigence may mean a call to the police. For the other people in the restaurant that have observed etiquette and purchased food, this is public space. For me, it is private. I must leave or face the consequences.
These variations sometimes create ambiguity. One may not be sure whether a park is open, whether one is on the guest list at a club, whether a courtyard is to be exclusively used by the residents of the surrounding apartments. Perhaps a space is only private or public in the past tense. If one traversed it without incident, it was public space. At that time. For you. Like the door to the law in Kafka's Trial, each space was made just for you. Who knows what might happen for another? Or if you tried to pass again? Temporal variability in the nature of a location means that a space, properly speaking, is called into existence by a person that passes through it, changes forever as a result of the passage, and never reverts to its former conditions.
In short, public and private spaces are always mediated by perception and are, consequently, mere speculative judgments. At best, we produce a rough set of signs that designate places we are not allowed to wander. However, there is never any certainty. If you have any doubt, just consider the situation of a person who's home has been foreclosed on, someone murdered by the police while peacefully walking in their own neighborhood, or mugged in broad daylight.
This ambiguity strongly shaped my approach to this activity. My time was spent attempting to identify probable signs of public and private space. In doing so, I focused primarily on specific details of the location I walked through.
Note: Gilles Deleuze's essay Post-Scripts on the Societies of Control may be found online at http://www.n5m.org/n5m2/media/texts/deleuze.htm among other places.
I made two walk-throughs of the same area. Once on Sunday between 1 PM and 2 PM. It was a chilly, sunny day. Again on Monday between 3 PM and 4 PM. It was a cold, overcast day.
14th st. and 1st ave. - I begin observing here. Half a block down 14th street I find a church with open doors leading to a courtyard and a parking lot. It is unclear whether I am welcome or whether these areas are only for members of the church. On Monday, I find the gates to these areas closed and locked.
On 14th st. between 1st Ave. and Ave. A I find a post office closed and locked. On Monday, however, people freely walk in and out.
14th st. and Ave. A - I find a shuttered and padlocked laundromat. Both are good signs that this is a space I am not supposed to be. The next day, however, I see two smiling employees inside through the clean, glass windows.
13th st. and Ave A. - I find a shuttered store w/ graffiti on the shutters. This is an interesting juxtaposition of a sign saying "this is not yours!" and an anonymous public response of "yes it is!"
11th st. and Ave A. - I find an interesting contrast. Street vendors have set up at the corner and are selling watches and small electronics. This corner is unoccupied by any buildings but instead has high fences surrounding a basketball court. No one is inside of the fences. The next day I find the vendors gone and the court still empty.
At the north-east corner of Tompkins Square Park I see a basketball court with high fences, but this one has open gates and people skateboarding around the perimeter. There are even more skateboarders on monday. A padlock hangs from a chain on one of the open doors to the gate, reminding me that this space is public at the moment, but that my presence here at other times would likely would elicit a response from the police if I were observed.
On 10th street between Ave. A and B is a New York Public Library. How public, I wonder. Could I sleep there?
I enter Tompkins Square Park and see that it is teeming with life. The warm weather has brought people out to bike, walk, play with their dogs, and watch people playing with dogs. The park, as it turns out, appears to be a patchwork of public and private spaces. Sidewalks for the public, enclosed lawns for viewing only. The fences are not intrusive or menacing, but they are high enough that they would be impossible to simply step over. This is a good sign of private space. The next day the park is still alive, but contains fewer people.
I find a farmers market at the south-east corner on Sunday. This is another example of people utilizing sidewalks as true public space where they can loiter and conduct business rather than as simply a conduit from store to store. It is gone on Monday.
I see a man pushing a shopping cart full of...stuff. He appears to me to be homeless. Any place where the homeless can freely stay for a time is generally a public space.
9th st. and Ave. B - I find an enclosed courtyard attached to a church. The high fence says it is private, but the open air setting and benches suggest that it is public for someone.
6th st. and Ave. B - I find a gated community garden with high fences. Public for some, not for others.
4th and Ave. B - Fenced off area with razor wire. PRIVATE. On Monday I find three cars parked inside.
4th st. and 1st Ave. - I cease to observe.
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