Negotiating commercial change : insights from Vancouver and Amsterdam

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NEGOTIATING

COMMERCIAL CHANGE

Insights from Vancouver and Amsterdam

Karin de Nijs

6067476

karin.de.nijs@hotmail.com

Author

Dr. F.M. Pinkster

Supervisor

Prof. Dr. J.C. Rath

Second reader

University of Amsterdam

Research Master Urban Studies

14-8-2015

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1. INTRODUCTION

During city trips, a particular thing that always strikes me is the similarity between commercial streets around the world. From Santiago in Chile to Istanbul in Turkey, one can find cappuccino bars, vintage clothing boutiques and gourmet food stores in neighborhoods that are described by travel guides as ‘hip’, ‘trendy’ and ‘cool’. Urban geographers and sociologists have long understood these spaces of leisure and consumption as highly visible signs of gentrification, reflecting the desires, lifestyles and identities of a new middle class emerging in cities (Bridge & Dowling, 2001; Ley, 1996; Zukin, 1998). However, upscale restaurants and shops are not only important markers of ‘organic’ processes of neighborhood change. Rather, commercial gentrification must also be understood in relation to the role of the state and the changing shape of public interventions in cities. Gentrification is now embraced as a strategy to revitalize formerly disinvested or devalued neighborhoods (Smith, 2002). While urban scholars have devoted abundant attention to the residential dimension of this process, these strategies also remake commercial landscapes (Hackworth & Rekers, 2005; Wang, 2011; Zukin et al., 2009). Opinions are divided as to how commercial gentrification should be evaluated. Many planners and policymakers praise new stores and restaurants as indicative of a wider ‘urban renaissance’, fostering neighborhood reinvestment and providing jobs and improved amenities from which all city users may profit. Critical urban scholars, on the other hand, point to the displacement of individually owned stores and the local population that they serve (Deener, 2007; Zukin et al., 2009), as well as the exclusion of marginal groups from public space in regenerated commercial districts (e.g. Atkinson, 2003; Smith, 1996). New places of conspicuous consumption are seen as part of a wider ‘class inflected urban remake’ (Smith, 2002), thus contributing to urban social inequality. The problem with these accounts is that they are mostly based on studies in US cities. In addition, they tend to view poor and long-term residents and business owners as passive victims of neoliberal urban strategies, while in reality these groups may also play an active role by promoting or contesting neighborhood change. Thus, a more contextualized and agency-oriented understanding of commercial gentrification is needed. By examining how local governments, private actors and civic organizations construct and negotiate the transformation of marginal urban neighborhoods into sites of middle class leisure and consumption, this research uses a politics of place approach to the analysis of commercial gentrification. Such an approach draws attention to the range of actors that are involved in remaking urban space, their agenda for the neighborhood, the techniques they use to pursue that

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vision, and their experiences in relation to the ongoing process of neighborhood change. As such, it allows for a better understanding of the actors behind and social outcomes of commercial gentrification in particular urban contexts. This is not only an important contribution to the academic debate on commercial gentrification, but is also relevant to a wider audience. Namely, it will provide knowledge on the extent and ways in which people are able to shape how neighborhood change unfolds.

To investigate the politics of commercial gentrification, two cases were selected as foci of research: Chinatown in Vancouver, Canada and De Wallen in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. Both neighborhoods are the focus of regeneration policies, resulting in a process of commercial gentrification. In Chinatown, many businesses are struggling and upscale stores and restaurants are expected to revitalize the local economy. In De Wallen, on the other hand, the local economy is already thriving, yet it is argued that an upgrade is needed. This leads to substantially different political struggles and coalitions of actors behind commercial gentrification in both cases. The generalizability of this research is therefore not so much about the groups and institutions that promote or contest commercial gentrification, but is more about the theoretical model that is used – a politics of place approach to commercial gentrification.

This paper starts with an outline of previous research on the causes and consequences of commercial gentrification. Subsequently, the contribution of this study to the literature is explained and the politics of place perspective that guides this research is introduced. After a description of the study’s methods and investigated cases, the empirical findings from Vancouver and Amsterdam will be presented. Lastly, the findings of both cases will be compared and synthesized in order to answer the research questions.

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2. THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

This chapter provides an overview of literature on the causes and consequences of commercial gentrication, and introduces the ‘politics of place’ perspective that guides this research.

2.1 Economic restructuring and new spaces of leisure and consumption

Zukin (1991) observes that cities have transformed from landscapes of production to landscapes of consumption. This shift in our conception of the primary function of urban localities is in large part attributable to the restructuring of Western economies since the 1970s. In a nutshell, the emphasis in urban economies shifted from manufacturing to service and knowledge-based industries, giving rise to what Scott (2008) labels the cognitive-cultural economy. In this new economic context, culture, leisure and consumption have come to play increasingly central roles. The factories and warehouses that dominated urban landscapes of the past have been replaced by – or were redeveloped into – festival market places, art galleries and shopping districts. Hannigan (1998) describes these developments as indicative of a new urban economy which has its roots in tourism, sports, culture, and entertainment, and claims the emergence of ‘fantasy cities’, offering exciting and glittering playgrounds for middle-class consumers and visitors. In a similar vein, Zukin (1995) draws attention to the growing significance of urban places that appeal to affluent consumers and tourists, and describes the emergence of upscale restaurants, cool cafes and shops in formerly disinvested urban neighborhoods – a process she later terms commercial gentrification (Zukin et al., 2009). London’s Covent Garden, the Marais Quarter in Paris and East Village in New York are among the most well-known examples, and now constitute global urban attractions. What explains for the emergence of these neighborhoods as places of middle class leisure and consumption?

A number of authors emphasize that these novel spaces of leisure and consumption reflect the aesthetics, lifestyles and identities of a new middle class emerging in cities (e.g. Bridge & Dowling, 2001; Karsten, 2014; Ley, 1996; Zukin, 1995). Art galleries, funky ethnic restaurants and upscale boutiques are seen as highly visible signs of a broader process of upgrading and revaluation of inner city neighborhoods: gentrification (Lees et al., 2013; Zukin et al., 2009). Stylish commercial spaces serve as hangouts for bohemians and affluent gentrifiers, fulfilling not only their material needs but also their aspirations for social and cultural capital (Wang, 2011). In addition, consumption has become central to the construction of identities (Jackson, 1999). Gentrifiers use consumption practices to establish their distinctiveness (Bridge & Dowling, 2001), in particular from more suburban members of the middle class (Ley, 2003).

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Their move back to the city revolves around a new type of lifestyle, centered on ‘conspicuous consumption’ (Zukin, 1995). In short, the emergence of certain neighborhoods as sites of middle class leisure and consumption is understood as logical and natural outcome of residential gentrification and the accompanying changing consumer preferences of the urban population. However, this ‘demand-side’ perspective ignores the fact that upscale restaurants and trendy cafés are more than visible markers of neighborhood change. Based on a study of the relation between residential development and commercial upgrading in two gentrifying areas in New York City, Zukin et al. (2009: 48) claim that: “Boutiques ‘mark’ an area as safe for commercial investment that will upgrade services and raise rents”. Since commercial gentrification can play an important role in fostering neighborhood (re-)investment and regeneration, the process is actively encouraged by urban governments and other stakeholders. Thus, landscapes of middle class leisure and consumption do not (only) reflect an organic shift in consumption preferences, but are in some cases actively and strategically produced (e.g. Hackworth & Rekers, 2005; Smith, 2002; Wang, 2011; Zukin et al, 2009). As will become clear in the next paragraph, commercial gentrification must be understood in relation to the role of the state and the changing shape of public interventions in cities.

2.2 Urban regeneration and neoliberalism

A notable development in public policy in the late 20th century is the adoption of culture and consumption as tools to bring about urban regeneration. After years of industrial decline, strategies of urban regeneration started to focus on culture and consumption, encouraging stores and restaurants, and creating new museums and tourist zones (Zukin, 1995). Consumption-based strategies of urban regeneration include initiatives such as the conservation and restoration of historic city centers (Tiesdell, 1995), the theming of ethnic quarters (Hackworth & Rekers, 2005; Rath 2007; Shaw et al., 2004) and the redevelopment of industrial sites for arts and cultural uses (Cameron & Coaffee, 2005). Using these strategies, cities attempt to differentiate themselves in order to secure their share of ‘spatially mobile capital’ (Harvey, 1989). Culture and consumption are viewed as tools to encourage the growing tourism industry (Fainstein & Judd, 1999) and to attract highly educated young professionals to the city (Clark, 2004; Florida, 2002). As Ley (1996:9) argues, these (consumption) strategies “neatly offset some of the damage exacted by deindustrialization ... [and] laid the base for a new round of economic development predicated upon leisure and tourism”.

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According to Smith (2002), the powerful yet often camouflaged intent of urban regeneration is in fact gentrification. In his view, new sites of conspicuous consumption in urban neighborhoods reflect a broader ‘class inflected urban remake’: “These new landscape complexes now integrate housing with shopping, restaurants, cultural facilities, open space, employment opportunities—whole new complexes of recreation, consumption, production, and pleasure, as well as residence” (ibid: 443). Smith argues that (commercial) gentrification has become a global urban strategy and relates this to a shift in urban policies towards economic growth and private sector oriented behavior: neoliberalism. Similarly, a number of authors have placed gentrification within the context of neoliberal urban governance and highlighted the ways in which state agencies, in partnership with private actors, facilitate and promote processes of gentrification through direct funding, subsidies or re-zoning (e.g. Hackworth & Smith, 2001; Newman & Ashton, 2004). The neoliberal city can be conceptualized first as an entrepreneurial city, competing with other cities for investment and directing all its energies to economic growth; and second as a city in which urban governments are active players on the market, albeit not according to the traditional principles of the welfare state, but rather in the interest of facilitating market forces (Leitner et al., 2007; Smith, 2002).

Thus, the emergence of upscale leisure and consumption zones in formerly disinvested or devalued neighborhoods can be highly produced, and urban governments play a key role in this process. According to Broudehoux (2007: 383), entrepreneurial governance is largely based upon “manipulation of the urban landscape, harnessed as a cultural resource that can be capitalized upon and repackaged for new rounds of capital accumulation and consumption”. Wilson (2004) argues that neoliberal urbanism is haunted between the drive to commodify versus stigmatize places. While on the one hand place histories and local cultures are used to market these neighborhoods, on the other hand urban regeneration is legitimated with discourses that construct these localities as marginal or inferior. As Burnett (2014: 159) argues “stigmatized neighborhoods are the imagined spaces ripe for gentrification”. MacLeod (2002) contends that while these ‘tenderly manufactured landscapes’ have done much to recover the economic value and prestige of many city centers, questions remain about the use value of such spaces for a wider citizenry. In other words: how does consumption-based urban regeneration affect inhabitants and other users of these neighborhoods?

2.3 An exclusionary urban renaissance?

Unlike residential gentrification, the opening of new art galleries, restaurants, and designer clothing boutiques in formerly disinvested neighborhoods is not often recognized as a social

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problem. In contrast: “Most elected officials and community development groups praise new stores and restaurants as signs of capital reinvestment, enabling them to proclaim an urban ‘renaissance’ or at least to hope for a new period of growth” (Zukin et al., 2009: 49). Indeed, the establishment of new facilities and consumption spaces, as well as the renewal of public space, advances a city's built environment and leads to improved amenities from which residents may also benefit (Fainstein & Gladstone, 1999). As Jacobs (1961) argued, diverse shopping streets and lively public places make neighborhoods more attractive and can even benefit public safety. In addition, proponents claim that the tourism and leisure industry is among the few growth sectors that is all-inclusive: it provides numerous jobs for both high- and low-skilled workers, students and immigrants (Pang & Rath, 2006).

Yet, a changing retail landscape can also have various negative effects. According to Smith (2002), the language of ‘urban regeneration’ sugarcoats state-led gentrification processes. Scholars warn for the displacement of ‘traditional’, individually owned stores and restaurants due to rising rents, eviction or intensified business competition (Deener, 2007; Zukin et al., 2009). So called ‘mom and pop’ stores that serve the local population disappear and are replaced by expensive boutiques and chain stores. García Herrera et al. (2007) argue that the use of tourism and commercial development for urban regeneration leads to direct displacement of low-income inhabitants. In addition, various authors emphasize that displacement may occur without physical dislocation. Deener (2007) interprets commercial activities as central to local community life and identity, and argues that commercial gentrification and the increase in non-local shoppers and visitors may disrupt non-local social ties and result in a different and more upscale sense of place. These constitute forms of exclusion and can fuel subtle processes of displacement (Zukin et al., 2009), or what Marcuse labels ‘displacement pressure’ (Slater, 2009). Similarly, Davidson (2008: 2392) argues that long-term residents feel more and more out of place as “…local shops and services change and meeting-places disappear. The places by which people once defined their neighborhood become spaces with which they no longer associate”. In short, these authors claim that upgraded consumption landscapes are associated with the exclusion and dislocation of less affluent entrepreneurs and residents.

In addition, a number of scholars state that the upgrading of commercial landscapes is associated with the privatization and ‘sanitization’ of public space (e.g. Atkinson, 2003; Judd, 1999; Sorkin, 1992; Zukin, 1995). Strategies aimed at consumption-based regeneration are argued to go hand-in-hand with attempts to remove elements that may degenerate urban space. Zukin (1995) cites the example of a revitalization strategy in Bryant Park, New York City,

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where the park was improved through expanding its consumption uses and expectations of behavior through better maintenance and surveillance by guards. ‘Undesirable’ elements of society and the people associated with them, such as panhandlers or homeless people, may be physically excluded in order to present visitors and customers a coherent, nostalgic and idealized version of city life (Judd, 1999; Sorkin, 1992). Smith (1996) argues that neoliberal strategies aimed at retaking the city for capital and consumption have led to exclusionary politics, or what he calls ‘the revanchist city’. City governments aim to attract gentrifiers and tourists while excluding and criminalizing marginal groups who would threaten the quality of life in urban neighborhoods and the safety of public places.

However, the revanchist project that Smith identifies presents quite an extreme scenario that deserves some nuance. In many cases, ‘revanchist’ policies are about real problems. As Atkinson (2003: 1830) argues: “…the reality behind these programs is mundane; organizations and people simply doing their job and trying to make places safer for their users, even if this means the exclusion of certain groups on the utilitarian grounds that doing so enables the majority to use those spaces”. Secondly, exclusionary policies are not just driven by economic motives to accumulate capital through gentrification and tourism (Van Eijk, 2010). More generally, caution is needed with generalizing theories of ‘the neoliberal city’, which are mostly based on studies of cities in the United States. Brenner and Theodore (2002) emphasize the contextual embeddedness and path-dependent character of neoliberal reform projects, leading to different strategies for and social outcomes of commercial gentrification in different urban contexts. Thus, more attention is needed for the ‘geography of gentrification’ (Lees, 2000). Thirdly, the above theories present an overly pessimistic image of the transformation of urban neighborhoods into sites of middle class leisure and consumption. Poor, marginal and long-term residents and business owners are viewed as passive victims of neoliberal urban strategies. As Touraine (2001) argues, it is time to move beyond neoliberalism and its critics, as they both underestimate the agency of other stakeholders than governments and private investors, such as residents and local entrepreneurs.

2.4 The role of entrepreneurs and residents

Various authors have shown that business owners and residents can play a key role in promoting urban regeneration and commercial gentrification. In particular, ethnic entrepreneurs are recognized to have a role in strengthening neighborhood economies and driving processes of commercial gentrification and tourism development (Kloosterman & Van der Leun, 1999; Rath, 2007; Shaw et al., 2004). Local entrepreneurs are often understood as forerunners or ‘pioneers’

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in the process of commercial upgrading. For instance, Crewe and Beaverstock (1998) claim that small firms – in particular in industries such as fashion, media and design – functioned as pioneers in the revival of Nottingham Lace Market as a cultural quarter, as they were prepared to take a risk and locate in a neglected and partially derelict space. Similarly, Zukin et al. (2009) view individually owned boutiques as the pioneers of commercial gentrification, but warn that as more boutiques arrive and chain stores open, rents are bid up above the level many of the pioneers can afford. Crewe and Beaverstock (1998) point to the importance of cooperation between the state and the local business community to ensure that investment capital doesn’t force up rents and push out the very firms that give an area its distinctive cultural economy. Besides these individual ‘pioneering’ businesses, many examples are known of collective action among local business owners to promote a commercial revival. For instance, Sutton (2010) shows how Afro-American business owners mounted a successful campaign of commercial revitalization in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, by establishing civic alliances, leveraging financial resources, participating in neighborhood planning, and promoting the commercial district as an economic and cultural enclave. Along the same line, scholars have pointed to the role of Business Improvement Districts in marketing downtown neighborhoods, providing security and sanitation services, and advocating policies that promote their interests (Mitchell, 2001). In these districts, a majority of property owners and/or entrepreneurs agree to pay an added tax, which will be reinvested in extra services or promotion of the commercial area. Thus, either independently or by working together with the local government, entrepreneurs can play an important role in promoting commercial regeneration.

In addition to entrepreneurs, local residents can be involved in processes of commercial gentrification. Keatinge and Martin (2014) highlight how the tension between gentrifiers’ desired neighborhood identity and the reality of a declined commercial district catalyzed a movement to close down a local strip club. In their study, residents brand their neighborhood as a revitalizing and family-friendly destination and pursue various civic and legal strategies to enact this neighborhood brand. Similarly, Deener (2007) shows how local actors, including merchants, residents and activists, have an important role in redefining the uses of commercial strips, the aesthetics of the surroundings, and the types of goods and services that are offered. He introduces the term ‘community entrepreneur’ to refer to local actors “who promote changes in neighborhood surroundings and encourage fellow residents to accept the new community themes” (Deener, 2007: 298), therewith gradually constructing a new, ‘bohemian’ neighborhood identity that overshadows other definitions of community life, including those of

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the long-time residents. Thus, residents, entrepreneurs and activists can play an important role in reimaging and upgrading local commercial districts.

On the other hand, other scholars draw attention to citizen’s protests against commercial gentrification and urban regeneration. Ocejo (2011), for instance, shows how ‘early gentrifiers’ in Manhattan’s Lower East Side protest against new bars and nightlife in their neighborhood, which they view as inauthentic and threatening the sociocultural environment, the people and places that they feel attached to, and their future in the neighborhood. Likewise, residents and local political parties in Kreuzberg, Berlin, voiced concerns about their rapidly changing neighborhood as a result of the influx of tourists and a changing commercial structure (Füller & Michel, 2014). Furthermore, citizen groups and artists in Hamburg and Berlin challenged the local government’s entrepreneurial agenda and effectively resisted cultural regeneration projects (Novy & Colomb, 2012). More broadly, a number of authors argue that the hegemonic, neoliberal vision of the city is contested by counter discourses and practices from business owners, residents, and others (Burnett, 2014; MacLeod, 2002; Leitner et al., 2007).

However, such forms of resistance against policies and interventions for neighborhood upgrading seem to have diminished since the 1990s (Fainstein, 2010; Hackworth & Smith, 2001). One explanation is that residents and entrepreneurs are increasingly incorporated in formal governance spaces, and thus strategies of confrontation and resistance have been replaced by strategies of participation and cooperation with the local state (Taylor, 2007). This has been related to the shift from government to governance, whereby neighborhood regeneration is increasingly organized through partnerships between (semi-) public and private organizations, such as private developers and housing corporations (Andersen & Van Kempen, 2003). These local partnerships increasingly also include some form of citizen participation. While inclusion of local stakeholders in decision-making is often regarded as a means to increase local democracy, Huisman (2014) states that participation can become a tool for the effective implementation of policy rather than a means to enhance justice if no actual power is transferred to citizens. Similarly, Teernstra and Pinkster (2015) argue that resident participation is often viewed as a means to achieve neighborhood change effectively and efficiently, and question to what degree new participation mechanisms have created opportunities for residents to actually influence neighborhood governance.

Thus, it is clear that residents, merchants and other local actors can both participate in and contest initiatives aimed at commercial upgrading, and that they do so within and outside formal governance spaces. An important note to make here is that there is nothing inherently

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progressive about local actors (Madden, 2014). As Purcell (2006) writes, researchers and activists tend to fall in the ‘local trap’: the assumption that the local scale is preferable to other scales and that actions at this level would lead to more just, equal or diverse cities. As was discussed above, entrepreneurs, residents and community activists become involved for different reasons: while some protect the interests of long-term residents or marginal groups, others clearly promote upgrading of the commercial landscape and contribute to the exclusionary tendencies that were identified in the previous paragraph. More academic attention is needed for the way in which a range of actors with varying objectives and motivations are involved in the upgrading of commercial landscapes.

2.5 The politics of place-making

A useful analytical approach to understanding how a range of actors and institutions are involved in the production of commercial gentrification is to view neighborhood transformation as the outcome of ‘politics of place’. Politics of place entail the processes through which places are negotiated and politically contested (Pierce et al., 2010; Staeheli & Mitchell, 2009): “The political struggles over who does and does not belong, over how resources and rights of the locale are to be distributed, [and] over which individuals and groups are to be granted the power to determine futures” (ibid: 191). Gallaher et al. (2009) distinguish between ‘big-P’ and ‘small-P’ politics, referring to the negotiations over place that occur in formal arenas (e.g. political parties and other state-centered institutions) and those that take place in more informal interactions (e.g. social movements and other civic organizations). In many cases, place-making is central to politics of place: through political debate and action, actors try to (re)make a place for new uses or users – though in practice they have different degrees of influence. Politics of place scholars emphasize that place-making is almost never complete, finished or clear-cut, but contested by forms of resistance by other groups or institutions.

Political struggles over space rest on a normative vision of place: not simply who or what is in a certain locality, but who or what should be there (Staeheli & Mitchell, 2009). Actors mobilize according to their subjectively perceived agenda: a well-defined spatial vision for what their neighborhood or city should be like (Purcell, 2003). Whatever the political issue, the agenda of actors is always to further their spatial vision. In such processes, groups often claim a ‘sense of belonging’ to establish ownership over the place, which is used as a discursive resource to justify or resist exclusion (Antonsich, 2010). Thus, while such claims are deployed to promote or protect certain uses or users, they are simultaneously used to legitimize the exclusion of groups and activities that are believed to not belong to the place. Efforts to remove homeless

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people from regenerated commercial districts, for example, involve a clear normative vision of who belongs in these spaces. Likewise, Deener (2007) describes how merchants and new residents claim ‘symbolic ownership’ over the identity and appearance of a commercial street, which excludes African-American residents of lower socio-economic standing. According to Ley (2003), the occupation of inner city neighborhoods by the middle class has become a major component of how cities are imagined.

Madden (2014) uses such a politics of place-making perspective to analyze neighborhood change. In his view, neighborhoods are “inherently political and often conflictual – the products of complex, long-term struggles between groups over land use, ownership, planning, identity and purpose” (ibid: 472). Thus, he considers neighborhoods as an achievement rather than natural outgrowth of urban social life. Madden proposes the concept of ‘spatial projects’ to signify the ongoing efforts of various groups and institutions to shape urban space in accordance with identifiable logics and strategic goals. This concept shifts attention to the ways in which a range of actors – loosely categorized as state, capital and community – pursue a certain direction of neighborhood development, which can be overlapping and mutually reinforcing, but also in contrast and resulting in conflict. In practice, Madden argues, neighborhoods always promote specific urban groups, goals and logics. When applying this framework to gentrification, new forms of exclusion or displacement can be identified. As gentrification reorients a neighborhood to new goals and uses, certain groups do not only risk physical dislocation but are also displaced as the subject of neighborhood development (Madden, 2014). Thus, the main question is: whose spatial project tends to prevail?

This is essentially a question of power: who has the power to realize his goals and vision for a certain place, and who doesn’t? Within the academic debate on commercial gentrification, scholars – most clearly Smith (2002) – emphasize that power is located in the hands of neoliberal urban governments and private actors, who generally pursue a gentrified city. The problem with this understanding of power is that it assumes domination rather than contention. As was discussed in the previous paragraph, the neoliberal vision for the city may be contested. In addition, by focusing on ‘big-P politics’ alone, the agency of other stakeholders such as business owners and community actors is neglected. Although they may have less power, to ignore them results in an incomplete picture. As Ley (1983: 280-281) observed, the city’s “changing spatial form is the negotiated outcome between diverse groups with asymmetrical access to power”. It is precisely this struggle between different ideas and ideals for urban neighborhoods that this study examines.

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Although this study aims to include the agency of local civic and business groups, their opportunities for influence are not unlimited. Regime theorists have made clear how inclusion of a group’s interests in a ‘governing coalition’ is crucial to its ability to shape the future of a place (Stone, 1987). Thus, those who are excluded from policy- and decision-making tend to have less power to influence neighborhood development. Furthermore, actors need resources to mobilize themselves and claim a voice in decision-making (Stone, 1987). Stone distinguishes between material, cognitive, social, and symbolic resources. These overlap with the more commonly used distinction between economic, cultural and social capital (Bourdieu, 1986). Economic capital refers to money and property rights; cultural capital to educational qualifications; and social capital to a person’s network of connections. The middle class seems better equipped to shape neighborhood development than marginal groups: their demands are supported by higher incomes and they often possess the necessary knowledge and networks to engage in political lobbies. As Staeheli and Mitchell (2009) argue, the outcome of political struggles tends to reinforce existing power relations rather than challenge them.

Thus, when analyzing the transformation of urban neighborhoods into sites of middle class leisure and consumption, it is important to look at the different stakeholders that are involved, their goals and agenda for the neighborhood, and the techniques and resources they use to pursue this vision. Analyzing commercial gentrification through a politics of place perspective shows how this process of neighborhood change is not just the natural outcome of changes in demographics or consumer preferences in cities, but is actively and strategically produced. By analyzing how a range of actors construct and negotiate commercial gentrification, it allows for a better understanding of the agency of a range of stakeholders – not just urban governments or private investors – in this process. Furthermore, by demonstrating how the upgrading of a commercial landscape promotes specific groups and interests over others, it offers a new perspective on the exclusion of particular groups as a result of this process. Lastly, by looking at coalitions within particular urban settings, it provides the opportunity to contextualize theories on the actors behind and social outcomes of commercial gentrification. As such, this study contributes to a better and more nuanced understanding of the transformation of urban neighborhoods into sites of middle class leisure and consumption.

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3. METHODOLOGY

This chapter discusses the research goals and questions, the operationalization of key concepts, the research design, and techniques for data collection and analysis.

3.1 Research goals and questions

By taking a ‘politics of place-making’ approach, this research aims to explore the roles, agendas and experiences of a range of actors involved in processes of commercial gentrification in two cases outside of the US. As such, it contributes to a more agency-oriented and contextualized understanding of commercial gentrification. The main research question of this study is:

How do various actors participate in the politics of commercial gentrification and what are their opportunities to influence the process of neighborhood change?

This question will be answered using the following three sub questions: 1. Which actors are involved and what are their agendas?

2. How do these actors (attempt to) influence the process of neighborhood change? 3. How do these actors experience the process of neighborhood change?

The first question is meant to identify the groups and institutions that are politically involved in the specific context of each case, and the particular vision that they pursue for the neighborhood. As actors mobilize according to this vision, question two concerns the political practices of each group involved and the extent to which they succeed in influencing neighborhood change. By examining how the process of neighborhood change is experienced, the third question is meant to find out which actors benefit from commercial regeneration, and which don’t. Together, these questions offer a framework to explore commercial gentrification as the outcome of political struggles between various groups and institutions.

3.2 Operationalization

In this research, key concepts are not operationalized to the level of empirical indicators. Rather, this section will give detailed descriptions of the key concepts, which provide a general sense of reference and guidance in what to look at. Thus, the research uses ‘sensitive concepts’ rather than ‘definitive concepts’ (Blumer, 1954). This relates to the exploratory nature of the research. Actors

In this study, actors are defined as all groups and institutions that can affect and/or are affected by commercial gentrification in a particular neighborhood. Put very simply, actors can be

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subdivided into three groups: public (government), private (business) and civic (residents) (Madden, 2014). However, reality is a bit more complex. Firstly, the categories are not mutually exclusionary: actors may simultaneously belong to different groups. For instance, residents may also own a business in the neighborhood or have a political function. Secondly, the categories suggest homogeneity within each group, while in reality they are heterogeneous. For instance, it is likely that differences exist between the agenda, practices or experiences of different groups of residents, depending on factors such as how they are affected by commercial gentrification and the resources they have to become involved. Likewise, governments and the private sector can be very fragmented, consisting of different agencies with diverging interests at various levels of scale. Thirdly, there may be other actors involved, such as academics or other lobby groups, which do not fit in either of these categories. For these reasons, the research did not start off with predetermined, fixed categories of actors.

Agenda

Actors mobilize according to their subjectively perceived agenda: a normative vision of what their neighborhood or city should be like (Purcell, 2001; Staeheli & Mitchell, 2009). The agenda of actors is always to further their particular vision for the neighborhood. Thus, to study the agenda of different groups and institutions requires an analysis of their goals and objectives in relation to the area. What kind of future for the neighborhood do they envision and/or pursue? Participation in politics of place-making

Madden’s (2014) concept of spatial projects is used to conceptualize political participation: the ongoing efforts of various groups and institutions to shape the process of commercial gentrification in accordance with their agenda. How do actors attempt to (re)make the neighborhood for particular uses and users? This may be through formal channels such as consultation bodies or the city council, but also with grassroots initiatives and forms of resistance against commercial gentrification by social movements and other civic organizations. Thus, this study includes both ‘big-P’ and ‘small-P’ politics (Gallaher et al., 2009).

3.3 Research design

The research takes the form of a comparative case study of two neighborhoods: Chinatown in Vancouver and De Wallen in Amsterdam. Although the research focuses on these two cases in particular, they do not stand on their own. As Gerring (2006) argues, case studies can be understood as intensive studies of single or few cases with the purpose to shed light on a larger class of cases. The population from which cases are drawn in this study consists of

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neighborhoods that are the focus of urban regeneration policies, resulting in a process of commercial gentrification. This population was selected as it provides insight into the agendas, practices and experiences of urban governments, local entrepreneurs, residents and other stakeholders in the process of commercial gentrification. In addition, the study focuses on neighborhood with a concentration of marginal groups. This allows the research to investigate to what extent they are really ‘passive victims’ of commercial gentrification, or that they are in some way involved in or resist the process.

Case selection

Although the cases were to a large extent selected for pragmatic reasons, based on the possibility to conduct fieldwork in the respective locations, both Chinatown and De Wallen do hold particular characteristics that make them useful cases for this study. Namely, within the research population, the selected cases can be considered ‘extreme’ due to high levels of stigmatization and concentration of marginal groups in these neighborhoods, which in turn leads to rather extreme initiatives and interventions that promote regeneration and commercial gentrification. Because of this ‘extreme’ nature, it was expected that commercial regeneration in these neighborhoods is contentious, which makes them interesting cases to study the political struggles between various groups. In addition, an extreme case method is helpful for elucidating mechanisms at work in causal relationships (Gerring, 2001), which is the main focus of this research. As Small (2013: 598) describes, “The mechanism perspective sees the core of causal explanation not in the irrefutable proof that changes in one variable tend to cause changes in another but in the clear understanding of what process might produce such changes”. According to Gerring (2001), an extreme case is particularly useful to this end because moments of extremity often reveal the essence of a situation. Thus, the selection of extreme cases allows for in-depth analysis of the political struggles behind commercial regeneration.

A weakness of the extreme case study method can be found in the representativeness of research findings (Gerring, 2006). However, as Flyvbjerg (2006) argues, generalization is not the only source of scientific progress. The scientific relevance of case studies often lies in the formulation or adaptation of theories, and simply in the discovery of empirical facts about society that were previously unknown. In addition, following Small (2009), it is argued here that representative neighborhoods do not exist. Rather, both neighborhoods under study are seen as unique cases that must be understood within a historically formed, path-dependent context. Through abstraction from this context, case study research can contribute to the development of a theoretical model that may be applicable to other cases in the population.

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Thus, although the political struggles that are found in the selected cases may not be representative for the wider population, generalization in this study is more about the theoretical model that is used – a politics of place-making approach to commercial gentrification.

Case 1: Chinatown, Vancouver

Vancouver’s Chinatown is the second largest Chinatown in North America and is situated just southeast of the city’s Downtown core. With Hastings, Abbott, and Union street and Jackson Avenue as its approximate borders, the neighborhood is located within what is called the Downtown Eastside – the old center of the city (see figure 3.1). Being one of Vancouver’s oldest neighborhoods, Chinatown contains a large amount of (ethnically inspired) heritage buildings and is host to a number of landmarks including the Millennium Gate and the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden (figure 3.2). Until the 1970s, shops in the area were thriving and Chinatown was the center of Vancouver’s culinary and nighttime economy (Anderson, 1991). However, as the center of the city shifted to the west and suburbanization set in, Chinatown and the rest of the Downtown Eastside began to decline in the 1980s. Not only were commercial activities relocated to malls far outside the downtown core; Chinatown quickly lost its place as the center of the Vancouver’s Chinese community. In addition, Chinatown’s image degraded as poverty, addiction, crime and mental illness exploded in the Downtown Eastside. To this day, Chinatown is characterized by a high number of vacant storefronts in run-down buildings, struggling businesses and a negative public image as unsafe and out of date (Howell, 2012). This negative image is strongly related to its location within the Downtown Eastside, now infamously known as ‘Canada’s poorest postal code’ and ‘North-America’s largest open drug market’. According to recent estimates, no less than 4.700 residents of the Downtown Eastside are injection drug users (Eby, 2007), and a high proportion of Vancouver’s large homeless population resides in the Downtown Eastside (Freiler & Holden, 2012). Although these social issues are concentrated just outside of Chinatown, residents within the area hold a relatively marginal position too: two third of the households are considered low income and the unemployment rate is twice the average city’s average (City of Vancouver, 2012). Furthermore, over 40% of the area’s population continues to be of Chinese ethnicity. Around 80% of the area’s dwellings are rentals with an average gross rent that is $270 lower than the city’s average, making it a relatively affordable place to live.

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19 Figure 3.1: Geographical location of Chinatown in Vancouver

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Figure 3.2: Millennium Gate and Chinese Freemasons Building on Pender Street

Source: Author (2014)

Since the early 2000s, the City of Vancouver (2012) works on a series of plans that aim to revitalize Chinatown through upgrading and diversification of the neighborhood’s economy, public realm improvement projects, heritage preservation and condo development. Slowly but steadily Chinatown is moving into a new direction, as is frequently reported by local media. Whereas the area was host to numerous Chinese restaurants, oriental bakeries, tea and herbal shops and a plethora of other Asian businesses, these are increasingly being substituted or replaced with non-Chinese retail and restaurants targeting young urbanites, such as vintage furniture stores and hipster coffee bars. As a result, Chinatown is becoming a center for the city’s shopping, nightlife and culinary scene once again (Burnett, 2014).

In order to understand the gentrification agenda in Chinatown, it is important to take into account changes in the institutional context at higher levels of scale. Much like any city around the world, Vancouver is increasingly taking an entrepreneurial approach in urban development. This is in tension with the city’s past: Vancouver has long been the site for progressive social policies (Mitchell, 2004). In the 1960s and 1970s, all three levels of government in Canada were committed to an interventionist state role in providing urban services and increasing

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economic redistribution. By the 1980s, Vancouver was still governed by social democrats, but both the province and the country were led by conservatives. These higher levels of government were responsible for an active dismantling of the welfare state and Keynesian economics as well as the creation of new kinds of free-market-oriented economic policies According to (Mitchell, 2004; Vanwynsberghe et al., 2013). The result is a Vancouver with liberal roots, but a contemporary political regime that increasingly shifts away from the delivery of public services towards public-private partnerships that aim to achieve social change through market incentives, as is the case in the revitalization of Chinatown.

Case 2: De Wallen, Amsterdam

With buildings dating back as far as the early fourteenth century, Amsterdam’s red light district (locally known as De Wallen) is the oldest part of the city’s historic center. It is bounded by Warmoesstraat, Zeedijk, Klovenierburgwal and Damstraat/Oude Hoogstraat (figure 3.3). Located just behind Damrak, which used to be the harbor, the area historically functioned as a nightlife area for sailors and has a long history of prostitution. To this day, De Wallen offers a range of pleasures related to sex, drugs and simple fun (Terhorst et al., 2003) (figure 3.4). The area is dominated by hotels, sex shops, window prostitution and cannabis-related amenities (e.g. coffee shops, smart shops and even a cannabis museum). According to Nijman (1999), De Wallen has slowly evolved into a sex-and-drugs theme park, and represents the commodification of Amsterdam’s historically grown identity as a tolerant place.

For years, the tolerance (‘gedogen’) of prostitution and drug use in De Wallen was a conscious and pragmatic policy-decision, aimed at making these issues controllable rather than trying to exterminate them. However, as problems related to drug crime and addiction accumulated in the late 1980s, residents of De Wallen rose up against the ‘deterioration’ of their neighborhood (see: Human, 2011). In addition, the Van Traa commission claimed that De Wallen were in the hands of organized crime, and human trafficking, drug trade and money laundering were widespread (Fijnaut & Bovenkerk, 1996). In 2007, the City of Amsterdam launched Project 1012, which aims to ‘restore the balance and create a high quality entrance zone’ by actively removing ‘criminogenic’ and low-quality businesses, including window brothels. These are supplemented and replaced by businesses with a more upscale character.

De Wallen is not a degenerated neighborhood in the sense that it is economically marginal. Many of the businesses in the area are very viable; De Wallen is a popular tourist attraction. In addition, the position of residents is not particularly marginal either. Although a relatively high percentage of the households living in De Wallen are considered low-income (39.1% versus

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22 Figure 3.3: Geographical location of De Wallen in Amsterdam

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Figure 3.4: Sex shops and fast food restaurants on Oudebrugsteeg/Warmoesstraat

Source: City of Amsterdam (2009)

the city’s average of 29.7%), housing is quite expensive in the area (OIS, 2014). The average value of a dwelling is €263.000, which is nearly €30.000 more than the city’s average, but could be considered low compared to the average of all neighborhoods in the central district (€312.000). More important than economic marginality is the presence of certain groups and activities in De Wallen that are considered socially marginal, particularly sex workers.

Amsterdam has often been described as a ‘just city’, offering an equitable distribution of resources and opportunities for democratic engagement (Fainstein, 2010; Uitermark, 2009). Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, the notion that spatial development should contribute to social justice was widespread in Amsterdam. However, neoliberal ideologies have increasingly pervaded municipal policies in Amsterdam since the 1990s, resulting in a state-sponsored pursuit of gentrification (Van Gent, 2012; Uitermark, 2009). According to Uitermark et al. (2007), the motivation behind gentrification strategies in Dutch cities is not (only) to make economic profit, but to improve livability and tackle social problems. Policies strive for more middle class households and manageable crime-levels rather than “ameliorate the social conditions of the most disadvantaged groups” (ibid: 125). Livability is used as an excuse to pursue an underlying neoliberal agenda (Uitermark, 2009).

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24 Logic of comparison

Although Vancouver’s Chinatown and De Wallen in Amsterdam are unique neighborhoods, they share important features that allow for comparison. Firstly, both cases are currently the focus of regeneration policies that result in the upgrading of their commercial landscapes. In both neighborhoods, initiatives are taken by the city government and others that promote and have led to commercial gentrification. Secondly, in both cases these regeneration programs were preceded by years of stigmatization as well as actual accumulation of social problems. Both neighborhoods are known for their concentration of marginal groups and activities, including drug-related facilities and users, sex workers, and low-income groups, which is used to exemplify the need for revitalization. This corresponds to Wilson’s (2004) argument that neoliberal regimes often mobilize stigmatizing images and a ‘discourse of decline’ in order to make regeneration appear both natural and inevitable. Thirdly, both neighborhoods are centrally located within highly gentrified cities. Viewed from Smith’s (1996) perspective, they are one of the few locations within both cities that can still be reclaimed for the middle class and offer the opportunity for capital accumulation. For this reason, the stakes are high.

Important differences exist in the economic position of both neighborhoods and the types of marginality that can be found. While many businesses in Chinatown are struggling, those in Amsterdam are generally very viable. Therefore, it can be expected that entrepreneurs in Chinatown are generally more supportive of the regeneration efforts, as they perceive a need for change. Furthermore, compared to De Wallen, the population of Chinatown includes a relatively large group of low-income inhabitants and ethnic minorities. Therefore, it is possible that residents of Chinatown have limited access to resources, which restricts their opportunities for participation in the political debate and influence on neighborhood change. According to Berger et al. (2002), social capital is particularly important for ethnic minorities to become politically active. While in Chinatown businesses and residents are economically marginal, in De Wallen groups and activities can be found that are viewed as socially marginal – in particular sex workers. It can be expected that this group, because of its generally vulnerable position and the stigma that rests on their occupation, has few opportunities for political engagement too. In terms of institutional context, both cases are logically different. Although both Amsterdam and Vancouver are increasingly pervaded by neoliberal ideologies (Mitchell, 2004; Uitermark, 2005), resulting in the encouragement of gentrification processes, it is important to be aware of the path-dependent character of neoliberal reform projects (Brenner & Theodore, 2002). Even though both cities have a history of redistributive social policies and an interventionist state

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role, the starting point of Amsterdam was presumably more progressive. The label ‘just city’ may no longer apply (if it ever has), but in comparative perspective Amsterdam still offers a relatively equitable distribution of resources and opportunities for democratic engagement (Uitermark, 2009). Therefore, it can be expected that marginal groups in De Wallen are more politically involved and more opportunities to influence neighborhood change than in Chinatown. Varying policy contexts are one of the main reasons for the emergence of a ‘geography of gentrification’ (Lees, 2008), which makes it relevant to do international comparative research.

3.4 Data collection

For reasons of triangulation (see: Denzin, 2012; Guion et al., 2011) the study uses a mixed-method approach, consisting of semi-structured interviews and document analysis of policy, research and media publications. The use of multiple methodological practices, empirical materials, and perspectives in a single study is best understood as a strategy that adds rigor, breadth, complexity, richness, and depth to any inquiry (Denzin, 2012). Moreover, it contributes to the internal validity of the research, as various methods can complement one another and produce more comprehensive, internally consistent, and valid findings (Onwuegbuzie & Johnson, 2006). The overall methodology is qualitative in nature.

In each case, semi-structured interviews were conducted with representatives of various groups and institutions that are involved in the process of commercial regeneration. Although a framework of questions was used (see appendix 1 and 2), semi-structured interviewing allows a researcher to be flexible and respond to issues that present oneself during the interview (Bryman, 2008). Since there was no sampling frame, the selection of the interviewees was based on a form of purposive sampling, namely theoretical sampling. This entails selecting participants on the basis of how well they enable elements of a theory to be explored or tested. With theoretical sampling, researchers collect interview data until certain categories can be formed and select interview participants until each category achieves theoretical saturation. In total, 21 individuals were interviewed: 11 in Chinatown and 10 in De Wallen. Most interview participants were representatives of civic or business organizations. In addition, both cases had consultative bodies in which residents, entrepreneurs and other stakeholders are represented (VCRC in Chinatown and IBO in De Wallen). Furthermore, two planners and a politician were interviewed. Remarkably, none of the interview participants in the Vancouver case study lived in Chinatown. Although one could argue that the role of residents in this case is underexposed,

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it also says something: namely, that residents of the area are very unorganized. In addition, various organizations did argue that they represent residents’ interests. Another interesting finding is that in both cases various actors are involved that do not have a direct interest in the neighborhood (as government, resident or business owner), but are involved in the process of urban regeneration for a variety of personal or professional reasons. An overview of the interview participants can be found in Appendix 3.

It is a challenge to place interview participants in strict categories of actors. Various participants were part of more than one organization, and some organizations represent a number of groups (such as IBO and VCRC). In addition, differences exist between groups of entrepreneurs. For example, Ondernemersvereniging Oudezijds Achterburgwal represents entrepreneurs in the sex industry, who have a different perspective on the transformation of De Wallen than other groups of entrepreneurs. Because of these complexities, interview participants are understood and discussed in the next chapters as representatives of a particular organization or institution, but not of some larger category. For this reason, it remains hard to say whether theoretical saturation was achieved (see: Guest et al., 2006). Nevertheless, the diversity in interview participants allows for a broad understanding of the major actors in both case studies.

In addition to the interviews, relevant public documents were collected in each case study. These include policy and planning documents, research reports that informed policy decisions, reports on consultation processes, and articles and vision papers of various neighborhood organizations. Appendix 4 provides an overview of the public documents that were used. These documents provide insight into the perspectives of the various actors, their goals, strategies and actions in relation to the neighborhood transformation, and therewith provide a meaningful supplement to the interview findings. Furthermore, media output – mainly in the form of documentaries and news articles that either report on the issue of urban regeneration in the selected cases or function as a public expression by one of the involved actors or institutions – was collected during the course of the research. This was useful to identify actors, to provide insight into the perceptions of different groups, to get an understanding of the neighborhood’s image among the wider public, and to contextualize other findings. When using public documents and media output, it is important to be cautious in treating such documents as depictions of reality (Bryman, 2008). Formal expressions in media or documents may be merely rhetorical and different from actual practices. Different data sources (including the interviews) were therefore used to cross-check findings.

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The methods were not applied in the above sequence; rather they complemented each other and were utilized simultaneously. A methodological approach in which various methods are used simultaneously and inform each other at various stages of the research (e.g. data collection, data analysis) is termed a fully mixed concurrent design (Leech & Onwuegbuzie, 2009). This design is attractive because of the multiple points of integration (Onwuegbuzie & Johnson, 2006).

3.5 Data analysis

The interview data and documents were analyzed using computer-aided qualitative data analysis software (ATLAS.ti). A ‘conventional approach’ to content analysis was used to analyze the interview data (Hsieh & Shannon, 2005). In this approach, researchers avoid using preconceived categories, instead allowing them to flow from the data. This inductive approach fits the exploratory nature of this research. Although the key concepts identified in section 3.2 were used to guide the analysis, the operationalization allowed the research to take a flexible and open-ended approach. The analysis started with reading all data repeatedly and highlighting relevant parts of the text. As this process continued, codes emerged that were reflective of key thoughts, which were then sorted into categories and clusters of categories based on how they were related. For instance, one cluster was ‘Agendas’, which included the categories ‘Social’, ‘Economic’, and ‘Cultural’, containing codes that represent smaller elements such as ‘staying put’, ‘increasing business turnover’ or ‘preservation’. As such, the findings of the research are grounded in the actual data and based on the perspectives of the interview participants, rather than imposing preconceived theoretical categories.

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4. CASE STUDY 1: CHINATOWN, VANCOUVER

Vancouver’s Chinatown has long figured as a destination for leisure and consumption. Since the 1930s, the ethnic character of the area has been commodified by both city planners and Chinese entrepreneurs to create an attractive and ‘exotic’ experience for visitors from other parts of the city as well as from outside Vancouver (Anderson, 1991). Chinatown had a thriving nightlife and restaurant scene throughout the 1970s, but with suburbanization and increased problems of homelessness and drug use in inner city Vancouver, decay set in by the end of the 1980s. Recently, efforts are taken to revitalize the area, and again leisure and consumption are used as tools to give Chinatown an economic boost. This chapter will start with a portrait of Chinatown’s history, which is important to understand the context in which current developments take place. Then the local government’s perspective on Chinatown and its efforts for commercial revitalization are outlined. Subsequently, the role, agenda and experiences of various neighborhood groups in the process will be discussed.

Figure 4.1: Chinese grocery and herbal shops in Chinatown, Vancouver

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4.1 A brief history of Vancouver’s Chinatown

As one of North America’s largest and oldest Chinese settlements, Vancouver’s Chinatown has attracted its fair share of academic attention. Perhaps the most extensive and widely known study is Kay Anderson’s (1991) Vancouver’s Chinatown: Racial Discourse in Canada, 1875-1980. In the book, Anderson describes how the district has long been the locus of racist and exclusionary practices by European-origin Canadians towards Chinese migrants. Emerging in the late 19th_{century as an ethnic enclave that provided shelter and work opportunities to the}

marginalized Chinese population, Chinatown was later romantically reimagined as a ‘little Orient’, and finally a civic asset (Anderson, 1991:177). From the 1930s onwards, Chinatown merchants have taken efforts to reorient the area from what was seen as a place of vice to a site for tourism, leisure, and consumption (Bertrand, 2008). Streetscape improvement projects, purposively confirming Western images of China, led to a sharp increase in visits from European origin Vancouverites and turned Chinatown into a booming neighborhood with shops, restaurants and vibrant nightlife.

Whereas Chinatown was thriving, negative images remained in the minds of local authorities, who classified the area as a slum in the 1950s (Anderson, 1991). In the 1960s, the City of Vancouver devised a series of plans to tear down parts of the neighborhood to accommodate Vancouver’s economic and demographic growth. A significant part of the area’s housing stock was planned to be demolished to make place for high-density residential development and an elevated freeway. In the eyes of the planning board, ‘tourist Chinatown’ was the only part worth preserving: “That part of Pender Street between Carrall Street and Main Street forms the most important part of Chinatown […] This particular part of the whole Chinese quarter is the only one which can be said to be a tourist attraction. The remainder of the Chinese quarter to the east of Main Street is at present of significance only to the people who live there” (cited in Anderson, 1991:188). Largely as a result of opposition by local residents, merchants and property owners, these plans were eventually obstructed.

Chinatown continued to prosper as the center of Vancouver’s culinary and nighttime economy throughout the 1970s. Under the ‘multiculturalism’ that came in vogue in Canada in this period, Chinatown became an asset of the City and was to be celebrated as an expression of difference (Anderson, 1991). Policies were generally aimed at cultural theming, heritage preservation and tourism promotion, and Chinatown was designated a historic area by the province of British Columbia in 1971. However, beginning in the 1980s, a series of factors predicated its decline. Although other districts in the downtown area were enjoying an investment boom related to

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Vancouver’s 1986 World Expo, Chinatown and the rest of the Downtown Eastside experienced a downfall in the face of suburbanization. Not only were commercial activities relocated to malls far outside the downtown core; Chinatown quickly lost its place as the center of the Vancouver’s Chinese community. At the same time, Chinatown’s image degraded as poverty, addiction, and mental illness exploded on and near the adjacent Hastings Street. This perception of unsafety, together with a yearn for more modern landscapes, led to an exodus of the Chinese population from Chinatown to suburban locations (Bertrand, 2008).

To this day, Chinatown is characterized by “A high number of vacant storefronts in run-down buildings, struggling businesses and a negative public image as unsafe and out of date” (Howell, 2012). Between 2008 and 2011, 64 percent of businesses reported a decrease in revenue (AECOM, 2011). Furthermore, a large portion of the households in the Chinatown are considered low-income, relatively many of them are seniors, and the unemployment rate is twice the average in Vancouver (City of Vancouver, 2012). On Tripadvisor, Chinatown is described by some as a place to avoid due to ‘crime, drugs and dangerous people’. This negative image is related to Chinatown’s location within Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, an area that is now infamously known as ‘Canada’s poorest postal code’ and ‘North-America’s largest open drug market’. According to recent estimates, no less than 4.700 residents of the Downtown Eastside are injection drug users (Eby, 2007), and a high proportion of Vancouver’s large homeless population resides in the Downtown Eastside (Freiler & Holden, 2012).

4.2 Revitalizing Chinatown, one coffee shop at a time

Despite these issues, Chinatown is slowly developing in a new direction, as is exemplified by the continuous noise from construction sites and the cranes rising high above the district. The changing character of Chinatown is frequently covered by local newspapers, which report that the district is “at a crossroads” (Fong, 2014), “on the brink of an economic, physical and cultural renewal” (Hilderman, 2013), or even “back in business” (Kurenoff, 2014). Among the clearest markers of change are the new, non-Chinese businesses that pop up in the area. Over the last few years, a German sausage place, a coffee bar for bicycle enthusiasts, a vintage furniture shop, a longboard store, several art galleries, an upscale cocktail bar, a tiny pie shop, and several other businesses that may not immediately come to mind when you think ‘Chinatown’ have made their entrance. In addition to specialty boutiques, several chain stores have opened up in the area, such as Starbucks, local coffee franchise ‘Waves’ and ‘Dollar Giant’. Another newcomer is the ‘Chinatown Experiment’: an initiative that rents out an empty storefront to short term pop-up shops, exhibitions, and events.