Parks and open spaces, the last word in good intentions and bad urban representation, are simply… the degraded simulacrum of the open space characteristic of encounters, games, parks, gardens and public squares. This space, which has been neutralised by a degrading form of democratisation, has as its symbol the square (Lefebvre, 2003 [1970], p. 27)
Introduction
This chapter begins exploring the practices of belonging in Campsie’s multicultural public spaces by looking at Anzac Mall, a local pedestrian mall in the heart of the town centre. The mall presents a complex set of social and spatial coordinates that signify multiple senses of place. It is an everyday space, a civic space, a commercial space, a social space and an emergent space. Transecting at one end by the main street, it is a place of passage organised around consumption as well as a meeting place and a stage for civic events. In the following analysis, I explore how the mall is produced by migrant place making practices and how dominant representations of space coalesce in the mall and articulate place-based identity and belonging.
I chose the pedestrian mall as a research site for several reasons. Firstly, the mall struck me as a highly diverse, mixed-use space produced by a range of mundane, informal practices and inhabited by a cross-section of the community. Secondly, participants mentioned it frequently in their descriptions of moving around Campsie, yet had highly ambiguous perceptions of the space. It was described alternatively as crowded, cold-looking, soulless, a place riddled with drug-problems, loud, pleasant, nice and a site conducive to children’s play. Thirdly, the mall’s design is somewhat ambiguous. It sits somewhere between a commercialised space of transit and the traditional plaza, square or arcade of modernist town planning. It is curiously hybrid: Anglo-Australian markers of national identity (such as war memorials) are counterpoised with myriad, more recent
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materialities associated with migrant identities, e.g. non-English shop signs. This raises questions about its role as a public space – does it succeed in the conventional function of civic space to monumentalise and spatialise the relationship between citizens and the state (Law, 2002; Low, 2000)? Is a multicultural population re-envisioning this function of the mall, or is it more akin to the pessimistic picture painted by Lefebvre in the quote above where the square is rendered a ‘degraded simulacrum’? Fourthly, its
topographically central position in the town centre marks it as a key strategic space for contemporary urban redevelopment and civic events, and it was an important site of the local government’s place-marketing priorities. It is thus a rich site for examining everyday cultural claims on public spaces, where the ‘ambiguities of proprietorship, of aesthetics, of social relations… and the political economy of everyday life collide’
(Harvey, 2006a, p. 19).
The chapter is divided in three parts. The structure follows Lefebvre’s tripartite model of the social production of space, discussed previously in relation to the theoretical
underpinnings of the thesis. This model examines the dialectics of space in a way that avoids setting up discrete spatial categories or closing spaces into different scales (Lefebvre, 2003 [1970]). These three ‘spatial moments’ are, to refresh, spatial practices (perceived space – the observable and material production of space), representations of space (conceived space – the dominant codes, models and narratives that inform abstract conceptions of space) and spaces of representation (lived space – the space as
re-imagined and re-appropriated; a site of counter-narratives). I use this frame to tease apart the range of actors, representations and relations of power involved in the production of Anzac Mall. However, separating out these elements is a heuristic and analytical tool – a means to an end – rather than a reflection of their separate nature in the everyday
production of space.
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I start with a description of the spatial practices of the mall from three angles: its physical layout, rhythms and everyday socialities.72 The second section examines dominant spatial representations by looking at local government place-marketing strategies of a local food festival and a place management strategy. I examine how these two hegemonic narratives of space produce distinct visions of desirable publics and tropes of productive diversity.
The third section explores lived spaced by examining the gaps between urban design, multicultural rhetoric and everyday appropriations of space. The chapter concludes with a discussion of the modes of (un)belonging and possibilities for urban civilities that get produced in this public space, particularly in the context of neoliberal urban agendas (Hayden, 2006; Koch & Latham, 2012a; Low, 2000).
The spatial practices and everyday rhythms of Anzac Mall
I became familiar with the pedestrian mall over a period of a year. I visited it on average three to four times a week, and then less frequently when I moved out of the
neighbourhood. Sometimes this involved sitting for up to several hours on the benches in the mall observing the clusters of activity and people passing through at different times of the day. At other times I noted its daily rhythms and goings-on while navigating to other public spaces, such as Anzac Park. I jotted down descriptions of users’ activities, plotted segments of movement around and across the mall on hand-drawn maps, visited
businesses around the mall, walked around and chatted to traders at the Sunday market, sat in the Women’s Rest Centre, and sometimes inadvertently struck up conversations with other mall dwellers and business owners in the surrounding shops. I also interviewed residents, council staff and local community workers about their perceptions of the space.
72 In examining the socio-temporal patterns of these public spaces I draw on Lefebvre’s notion of
rhythmanalysis (Lefebvre, 2004). Rhythms, he explained, are how the ‘everyday’ appropriates a particular place and time; they are a way of ‘localising time’ and ‘temporalising place’. Places are made up of multiple, repetitive, overlapping, conflicting and synchronized rhythms that create the ‘symphony’ or
‘polyrhythmicity’ of the urban (Lefebvre 1996: 223). In this way, rhythmanalysis enables an analysis of local place as dynamic, multi-dimensional and porous, always in a process of becoming (Edensor 2010).
While understanding how to apply rhythmanalysis as an analytical lens is – like other aspects of Lefebvre’s work – ‘frustratingly elusive’ (Amin & Thrift, 2002, p. 19), it does provide a useful tool for attending to more detailed, multi-sensory descriptions of how places are produced. As employed in the following discussions, rather than speaking abstractly about ‘atmosphere’ and ‘vibrancy’, a focus on rhythms highlights the unique temporalities and spatialities that mediate and constitute social life in public space.
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On a sunny weekday morning early in my fieldwork, I jotted the following notes that formed some of my first impressions of this space and its diversity of users.
The mall is buzzing with voices this morning. It’s so busy it’s hard to find a bench. Mainly elderly Chinese and Korean folks sitting in groups talking. One bench is filled by a crew of slightly disheveled men and one woman. At one bench two elderly men sit, each taking up a bench. One sits cross-legged, gesticulating to his silent companion.
At another, a group of six elderly ladies chatter loudly, they are all quite elderly but sprightly – I recognise a couple from tai chi – they are accompanied by a couple of small shopping carts. There is a relatively steady flow of people through the square, walking from Beamish Street down towards the park and vice versa […] Two young men, perhaps in their twenties sit at the bench next to me, one is smoking. [They are later replaced by] two very smartly dressed Asian men, sipping coffees. They wear pinstriped suits and dark glasses.
A young couple with crying toddler go into the medical centre… An older Asian man in bright yellow ‘Australia’ branded hoody and an old fedora-style hat
crosses the plaza, smoking. In the loud group of elderly Chinese, two men pull out two chairs and a small, foldaway table and set them up in front of the benches.
They shake out the contents from a tin and start to play.
There is something about the space and relative quiet in the square at this time that seems to relax people – invites them to walk across it. Kids run in circles and chase the birds. The elderly slowly make their way across the mall with shopping trolleys or walking sticks, young mothers slowly push trolleys and prams,
meandering or chatting.
These observations make clear the many actors, functions and modes of dwelling involved in the social construction of the mall. The different usages of the space by a cross-section of the community suggest multiple modalities of belonging intersecting in this space. The following sets out, according to our Lefebvrian frame, an analysis of the mall as ‘actual space and its forms and objects’ as well as a reading of its use-value (Eizenberg, 2012, pp. 767-768). I start with a discussion of the mall’s socio-materiality and daily rhythms, which is mainly descriptive and gives a sense of the mall as a physical and temporally patterned space. I then examine in more analytical depth patterns of sociality, residents’ perceptions of the space, and review how the mall is ‘practiced’ by users.
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Locality and spatial layout
Anzac Mall73 is an oblong-shaped paved pedestrian area that constitutes part of Anglo Road. It was previously a roadway, and was pedestrianised in 1994. At its eastern end, it connects with the busiest part of Beamish Street and its transport connections. The western edge of the mall connects with Anzac Park (see Figure 12), and several
community organisations, social services and places of worship (e.g. the Salvation Army, Anglican Church, Centrelink and the local Returned Serviceman’s League club). It also connects, via footpaths around the edge of the park, to the library and Campsie Shopping Centre, in an adjacent street. Beyond the park are residential streets.
Figure 12: An aerial photo of Anzac Mall (Source: Google Maps)
The Beamish Street entrance is marked by a small circular wall with the name of the mall (see Figure 13 below) shielding a flagpole with the Australian flag. There are also several
73 ANZAC stands for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. Anzac Day, celebrated on 25 April, is one of Australia’s most important national commemorations, and marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by New Zealand and Australian forces during the First World War.
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large oak trees, an ANZAC war memorial clock tower and commemorative mosaic set into the pavement (see Figure 14). The latter two features are designated local heritage sites. It features several sets of benches, small trees and shrubbery, shade covers and a small, automated toilet block. A women’s rest centre at the western end provides toilets and information about women-specific community services, as well as an informal
meeting place. Outside the centre is a colourful mosaic of a cheerful garden scene entitled
‘Garden of Hope’, which was made by several community groups and is accompanied by a plaque that promotes a theme of non-violence against women. The north and south sides are lined with shops set beneath two- to four-storey buildings. The shops house a range of businesses including several restaurants and grocery stores, beauty therapists, a café, and real estate agent, a green grocer, noodle bars, two dumpling shops (including one that claims to sell ‘Sydney’s best dumplings’), a tobacconist, a butcher, an Asian DVD shop, a medical centre, a couple of empty shop premises and occasional pop up shops (selling plants or ceramics imported from China). Services such as a real estate agent and optometrist occupy the second floor premises. Activity is mainly clustered around the shops closer to the high street and those with appealing shop fronts, like the green grocer’s shop halfway down the mall, which is one of the few businesses that attract a high number of passing pedestrians. Most of the shops have relatively small frontages and varying degrees of access and porosity to the mall. Some are relatively inconspicuous and appear to attract a specialised customer base. Several of these shops seemed to operate as micro-public spaces for particular ethnic communities.
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Figure 13: Entrance to Anzac Mall (Photo: the Author)
Figure 14: Anzac Mall clock tower at mall entrance (Photo: the Author)
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Visually, the mall is a hybrid space. It features standard Anglo-Australian design and cultural symbols (e.g. the war memorial tower) mixed with the cultural symbols
associated with businesses catering to a multicultural community (e.g. signs in English, Arabic, Chinese and Korean). Despite the neat and attractive appearance of some businesses, parts of the mall have a slightly tatty appearance, with tired shop facades, shop windows peppered with ripped, old posters, and vacant shops. The green grocer uses a mix of old shopping trolleys and crates to display fruit and vegetables creating an abundantly provisioned, if somewhat disheveled, shop front. This assemblage or
bricolage of signs and materialities adds an air of informality to the more formal design features of the mall (e.g. the memorial, the orderly, fixed mall furniture and the cleared paved area through the centre). And while the businesses and use of the mall is regulated in various ways by the local council (a point I focus on in later discussions) there is an everyday ‘looseness’ to the mall space that leaves it open to ‘tacit rules [that] can support different uses and bear different bodies in space’ (Tonkiss, 2013, pp. 108-9). Initial impressions would suggest that the sense of informality and wide array of cultural symbolism in the mall undermines any dominant spatial code that might convey it as a privileged site for certain publics. But it also makes it a place of ambiguity for some residents, particularly for middle-class residents. Verna’s description of her impressions of the space captures the contradictory nature of the space well:
They do seem to be trying to get the community thing going there [but] to me personally I think it’s a really cold-looking space. I mean, it’s nice enough on a sunny day. But it doesn’t actually invite… it doesn’t look like the sort of place you’d want to hang around in. (Verna, November 2013)
The central position of the square makes it something of a reference point in Campsie.
Participant observation and interviews suggested that the pedestrian mall was a physical site of orientation and localised familiarity in people’s everyday geographies around the suburb. If not a destination in itself, it was a central space of traverse that connected local people into urban and social infrastructures – the library, shopping centre, Beamish
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Street, the park, the medical centre and Centerlink. Connor, a local migrant support worker, refers to this orienting function when he says:
People appreciate that square. People like it. But then, I’m not sure [about] the level of maintenance, or how much investment really goes into it, you know? It’s not quite a visually very attractive place, but I agree it plays some important role.
And people say ‘the square’ a lot, they refer to it all the time, [like when] they want to have an appointment [at the medical centre]. It’s a kind of a reference point when they talk about Campsie. (Connor, June 2012)
Connor’s statement also suggests an ambivalence that people feel about the design and upkeep of the space, despite the fact that it is appreciated as an open and accessible public space.
Temporal rhythms of the mall
There are discernible diurnal rhythms in the mall. Activity begins with the clatter of deliveries and the rattle of mesh roller doors opening over shop fronts. Commuters and students pass through the square on their way to work and school. The trickle of elderly residents gathering on the benches heralds the arrival of the more sedentary groups of mall dwellers, who use the square to meet with friends, chat or rest after shopping.
Towards mid-morning mothers with young children join them, often momentarily, while running errands and shopping. Lunchtime draws a diverse mix of people. While some of the elderly residents remain in place, the mall also hosts local workers, shoppers and other residents who sit in the square to eat lunch, talk on mobile phones, chat, rest or have a smoke. A lull after lunch is followed by increasing activity in the late afternoon when families and school children use the square for play, return commutes, or for passing through on pre-dinner shopping rituals. Older youth pass through in small groups, although seldom congregate.
Afternoon rhythms are followed by the return march of workers; clattering heels
traversing the square to pick up fruit at the Lebanese-run green grocer. These commuters often pass a group of dancers practicing Chinese folk line dancing in the square most
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evenings at dusk. Their choreographed movements are synchronised with music emitted from a small portable stereo. In terms of evening uses of the mall, the demographic shifts to younger occupants and families shopping or visiting restaurants. The local night-time economy is subdued and focuses on restaurants on the main street, several pubs and a couple of karaoke venues. Except for a few restaurant patrons the mall is largely devoid of activity after dark.
In terms of weekly rhythms, Saturdays in Campsie Town Centre are very busy. In the weekend high volumes of shoppers flood the town centre, mostly to shop in the many ethnic food and discount shops or to eat at local restaurants. Shoppers on the weekend reflect the diversity of Campsie’s demographics, but are noticeably more middle-aged and middle-class. On Sunday, people are drawn to the informal trade of the Rotary Markets held in the middle of the square74. This market comprises around twenty stalls with a range of new, discount and second hand merchandise, such as inexpensive households goods, clothing, general bric a brac, plants, imported ceramics, sunglasses and jewellery. The majority of vendors are from non-Anglo-Australian backgrounds, reflecting the complex demographic composition of Campsie and its surrounds. The market is a temporary, semi-formal appropriation of the space, filling the mall with goods, stall holders and shoppers. On Sundays people also traverse the space on their way to nearby places of worship.
Annual rhythms of commemoration also shape the use of the mall. The memorial clock tower at the entrance (see Figure 14) is a site of annual commemorative activities of Australia’s military history: Anzac Day, Remembrance Day and Victory in the Pacific (VP) Day. These events involve a parade down Beamish Street and a memorial service at the eastern end of the mall, before a lunch at the RSL club. The mall is also transformed during the yearly multicultural Food Festival (held in late May or early June), which
74 The market is an initiative by the local Rotary Club and had been running for 20 years with council approval. The Rotary Club is a non-profit international organisation made up of business, professional and community leaders who perform charitable acts in the community. The local chapter in Canterbury meets in Campsie, and has featured several previous mayors and aldermen as members. It was a popular market for vendors – the organiser mentioned they were ‘busting at the seams’ with applications for stalls.
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draws significant crowds (which is discussed in the following section).
Spatial practices of the mall: aged socialities
Understanding the relatively unconscious and routine socio-materiality of these everyday activities is to understand the pedestrian mall as a perceived space in Lefebvre’s terms.
Lefebvre framed perceived space as a means of considering the ‘the everyday routines and experiences that ‘secrete’ their own social spaces’ (McCann, 1999, p. 173). This involves interplay between the space as designated by planners and how people actually
Lefebvre framed perceived space as a means of considering the ‘the everyday routines and experiences that ‘secrete’ their own social spaces’ (McCann, 1999, p. 173). This involves interplay between the space as designated by planners and how people actually