San Francisco in 2 Nights - Mission District, Bernal Heights & City Hall

"Artists not only document social change; they promote, inform, and shape it. Whether through music, plays, graphics, paintings, songs, films, media, architecture, textiles, jewelry, photography, poetry, sculpture, pottery, landscapes, written word, dance - art is powerful ... For art is the intellectual underpinning of social change; nowhere is there more potential and more need for art than now." ~ Maria X. Martinez  from "The Art of Social Justice"

"Indigenous Eyes" by Susan Kelk Cervantes

When I think of some of the things that I truly miss about living in San Francisco, I often come back to the sense of community found in the various neighborhoods of this densely packed 47 square mile city. Each district in the city has its own personality and its own reputation. I wrote last year about the Tenderloin in "San Francisco in 2 Nights - Tenderloin, Financial District, Russian Hill & Telegraph Hill," and this year, I was lucky enough to spend two nights in the Mission District. In the early 1990's, I didn't spend a lot of time visiting this neighborhood. My trips were limited to pretty specific endeavors. One was thrift store shopping -- that was easy -- get off at the 16th & Mission BART station and proceed to Thrift Town. The other was in search of  a swankier laundromat. In our early years together, "Where should we do our laundry tonight?" was akin to, "Where do you want to go out tonight?" We've had some memorable laundromat dates. There was the night that we won the raffle at the Clean-X-Press in the Tenderloin, and we got a Clean-X-Press clock. Sadly, that location is gone now, but we still have the clock. Another night, we were at a laundromat glued to the TV while O.J. drove his white SUV around the Los Angeles freeways -- I thought we would never get home, but we still remember it like, "Where were you when JFK was shot?" One of our favorite laundromat dates was doing the laundry on Taraval Street and getting dinner at El Burrito Express. There is nothing like a San Francisco El Expresso (wet) style burrito on a foggy San Francisco laundry night. This became a ritual for us, and I feel that it was a contributing factor as to why we never felt the need to venture into the Mission District for Mexican food. The exception to this rule occurred after I took a San Francisco history class at SFSU and learned that San Francisco was key in the popularity of the tamale, and there was one lone tamale restaurant, Roosevelt Tamale Parlor, left in the Mission District (it is still there -- been there since 1919!) Yes, the first "tamaleros" were sent from San Francisco to the Chicago World's Fair (Columbian Exposition of 1893.) After that success, a tamale cottage was opened up at the Midwinter Exposition in San Francisco in 1894. I'm going to plug my professor's book, The Fantastic Fair, (which doesn't seem to be in print anymore), along with the only recent article I can find about San Francisco's tamale history (but it's an awesome article): "When We Were Red Hot: S.F.'s Tamale Industry Once Ruled America" by Gustavo Arellano. So another laundromat date included dinner at Roosevelt Tamale Parlor with their big, round tamales smothered in dark red chili sauce, and then topped off with a trip across the street to Panaderia La Mexicana for dessert where you grab tongs and a tray and select cute little Mexican pastries out of the bakery case and wash them down with cinnamon-infused Mexican coffee. Yes, this place is still here -- hooray!

So as I began planning our trip, I was discouraged to find that much of what I thought I knew about the Mission District was blanketed by all of the Yelp descriptions of Mission "hipster" joints -- a term that I just recently discovered does not mean a type of women's underwear. Yes, there is a new cash flow that has come into this neighborhood; however, the unique culture has been largely preserved by its public artists. San Francisco has over 800 public murals -- many of these are quite famous: such as, the murals in Coit Tower and those by Diego Rivera at the Art Institute, City College, and the City Club. But out of these 800 murals, 328 of them are currently located in the Mission District. I love that so much of the history of this neighborhood is chronicled right out in public for all to experience: from the Ohlones to the Franciscans that founded Mission Dolores (San Francisco's oldest building) to the dairy farmers to the German and Irish immigrants post-Gold Rush to earthquake cottages at Dolores Park to Latin American immigrants -- art tells the story of these social changes everywhere in the Mission District. Murals to me are amazing. For all that think that art and the study of art history is a bourgeois pursuit, look at murals out in the open for all to see! We forget that some of our most famous works of art are largely considered murals; for example, Michelango's Sistine Chapel ceiling and the Creation of Adam could be considered a mural, as well as the ancient Roman wall art found in Pompeii as far back as 200 BC. It's true, however, that most people view modern murals as political statements. When I told friends that I was going to learn about murals during my San Francisco weekend, I think the image that conjures is more evident of the Berlin Wall or Keith Haring or graffiti. I think murals are all of that and more and a great way to rejuvenate a neighborhood. I think I'll go ahead and share some photos of what I experienced during my weekend with a brief trip log and links on how it can be organized over a 3-day weekend. For me, blogging about my trip is just a way for me to collect my thoughts all in one place, set the example for my homeschooled kids to write stuff, and perhaps expose my readers to another way of seeing a touristy destination.

Saturday at 1:30PM - Precita Eyes Classic Mission Mural Tour (24th & Alabama)

Precita Eyes Muralists working in Balmy Alley located between 24th & 25th Streets and between Treat & Harrison

"Naya Bihana" by Martin Travers in Balmy Alley depicting the struggle for freedom in Nepal

 

"Things Fall Apart" by Janet Braun-Reinitz in Balmy Alley with a quote from the poem "The Secong Coming" by W.B. Yeats

"La Virgencita"by Patricia Rose who is also the artist standing in front of the mural. She doubled as our Precita Eyes tour guide. I don't think she was trying to look like the Virgin in the mural in this photo, but she was explaining to us that it was okay to paint on the street pole because it is a private alley. I love that she is also wearing roses on her sweater :-) She is wonderful!

Utility box depicting actual neighborhood residents.

"500 Years of Resistance" by Isaias Mata on St. Peter's Church

24th & York Playground & Splash-pad (right next to Panaderia La Mexicana for an afternoon snack)

Tile murals at the Mini-park

"Quetzalcoatl" mosaic play structure (his tail makes the splash area)

Plantains for sale at the market

Neighborhood flower vendor

Saturday at 4:30PM - Hiking Bernal Heights Hill (from Folsom & Bernal Heights Blvd.)

The view from the top with the Bay Bridge and Treasure Island in the top right

Saturday & Sunday nights - The Inn of San Francisco (Van Ness & 20th Street)

The parlor of this gorgeous home

Saturday night dinner - La Traviata (Mission & 24th Street)

Sunday at 11:00AM - San Francisco City Guides Mission Dolores Neighborhood Walk (Church & 20th St.)

The fire hydrant that saved the Victorian homes of the Mission District from the 1906 earthquake and fire

Dolores Park

New Mission Playground Water Play Area

Soon to be re-opened Mission Pool with "New World Tree" mural by Susan Kelk Cervantes 

Lone earthquake cottage 

The Pirate Store at 826 Valencia - a great organization that assists kids with writing skills. Watch the TED talk:  

Very cool metalwork tree across from the plaque signifying the first site of Mission Dolores at  Camp & Albion Streets

Mission San Francisco de Asis (Mission Dolores)

Sunday at 1:00PM - a walk through Clarion Alley (between Mission & Valencia and 17th & 18th Streets)

The grittier murals on Clarion Alley

Sunday at 2:00PM - Brunch at Foreign Cinema (Mission & 21st Street)

Sunday night we went to an amazing wedding, but if you want to follow in our footsteps and don't have the invitation, I would recommend an evening in the garden and the hot tub of the Inn of San Francisco :) My son has written a post about visiting San Francisco City Hall which could be done the following Monday of a long weekend trip. My daughter has written a creative writing piece as an assignment for her writing group that involves a muralist lost in San Francisco City Hall which was inspired by her visits to both places. They both are excited to publish their pieces so I'm including them here in one family blog post. Enjoy!

San Francisco City Hall Review 

by Patrick

Over Labor Day weekend, we went to San Francisco and learned quite a lot about the city and its buildings. We started at the City Hall building in the city’s Civic Center. We learned that the City Hall was built in 1915 to replace the old City Hall which was destroyed in an earthquake in 1906. It was renovated after the 1989 earthquake and reopened in 1999. The building is 307.5 feet tall at the dome making it the tallest dome in the United States and the fifth tallest dome in the world. The city hall building was designed primarily by Arthur Brown and John Bakewell. The two architects designed the dome with a French baroque style similar to les Invalides in Paris. They built the rest of the building with a Beaux Arts style, which is a blend of French, Roman, and Greek architecture. The City Hall building is very interesting, and I would definitely recommend visiting it. While we were there, we saw the mayor’s office and a bust of Mayor George Moscone who was assassinated in his office along with Supervisor Harvey Milk in 1978. After exploring City Hall for a little longer and running into about twelve people in Lederhosen outside of the County Clerk’s office (possibly there for someone getting married), we left City Hall and crossed the Civic Center park to the San Francisco Public Library to see its recent remodel.

Trapped 

by Rebecca

            The dense fog hung around me as I walked. Coils of it wrapped around my ankles and made me slow down. I could barely see twenty feet in front of me, but I knew where I was going. Everyone knew how to get to San Francisco City Hall.

            Earlier that day, as I watched the daily fog spill over Twin Peaks, I thought about how it would make a marvelous subject for one of my paintings. I would need some more gray paint though, and whenever I bought a gallon of new paint, it felt like I was paying with a couple years off my life. Was it really such a crime to be an artist that I have to starve myself? I was eating something, of course, but, surprisingly, a can of Spaghetti-Os every day isn’t a sufficient diet.

            I felt trapped in my life, stuck in a downward spiral towards bankruptcy, unable to escape because, let’s be honest, no sane employer would hire a person with minimal education and no job experience, who has spent their life as an amateur painter. Well, at least not a sane employer from a place where I could actually make a living. The only reason I have those Spaghetti-Os is from the small paycheck I get from working at Burger King.

            I really don’t make much money from my art; only on very rare occasions will someone want to buy one of my canvases. I mostly try to get the city to pay for me to paint a mural on one of their public buildings. I’m good at painting murals, I’m very tall, and I like to add miniscule details to things. It’s easier to do that when you have a larger “canvas.”

             As I turned a corner, I could just see the grandeur of City Hall through the obscuring fog. The shape was quite similar to the Capitol Building in Washington D.C., but San Francisco’s City Hall is taller and has more gold on it.

            I came up to the front steps and began to walk up them, holding the notebook that had my sketch of the hopefully future mural inside it, close to my chest. I came through the doors and passed through the metal detector without trouble. I kept walking straight until I came to the rotunda. It was a large hexagonal room with golden street lamps at every corner, beautiful carvings into the walls, and a marble centerpiece, the staircase. I stopped for a second to look around. Above my head, one could see the walls arching in to meet the dome, the inside of which was fully visible from the rotunda, with the four medallions, Equality, Liberty, Strength, and Learning, each on their own corner of the room. Across from the staircase, a depiction of Father Time was placed on the wall above a clock that surprised me as I read the time. Only ten minutes until the Hall closes!

            With the sudden need for speed, I climbed up the staircase, turned a corner and climbed the stairs that I saw in front of me up to the fourth floor. When I got to the top, I realized that I was a mess, and there was no way that anyone from the city planning department would seriously negotiate with me about getting a wall to paint if I looked like this. I located a bathroom and went inside to wash up at the sink. I soaked a paper towel, then dabbed it at my face and on my neck, brushed my hair, and straightened my clothes. I probably wasn’t going to be able to actually get a permit today, but maybe I could at least schedule an appointment.

            I had just come out of the bathroom, when every light in the building turned off. I stood there for a moment with complete darkness surrounding me. I let my eyes get adjusted to the light before I walked in the direction of the planning department office, holding my arms out awkwardly in case something was in my way.

            I knew how to get to the office, but I wasn’t sure if I could make it there in darkness without falling over the banister that looked down to the very first floor. So I tried to keep to the wall because the other option would most likely turn out very, very bad.

            I stopped at a big wooden door and put my face right in front of the plaque on the wall next to it. In the poor lighting, I could just read “City Planning Department.”

            I considered ripping out one of the pages in my notebook and leaving a note, but it was likely that no one would see my note if I slipped it under the door, and I didn’t have any tape with me for attaching it to the door or wall. I actually don’t have any tape in general. Also, even if I did have tape, then what? I knew from previous news stories that when the Hall closed, they locked both the inside and outside. So if you were stuck in the Hall at night (like I am) and were planning on stealing some valuables (like I am not), you wouldn’t be able to take the out of the building because you were locked inside. Basically, I was stuck in City Hall.

            So, with no better option, I took off my jacket and balled it up. I then lied down on the floor, with my jacket under my head, curled up, and fell asleep on the floor in front of the City Planning Office.

            The next morning, I was nearly skipping down the street in excitement to get home to gather up my supplies. After looking at my sketch, the city planners decided to permit me to paint on the wall of a park. Not only that, but they agreed to pay for the paint and pay me for painting the wall. They were letting me be free of my current predicament, both metaphorically and physically. And they gave me a scone!