Our series on the city’s great streets hits Main
South Main: Tension in an area of transition
“Main Street is the metaphorical railroad track in Vancouver, dividing its seedier east side from its better-off west ...
“Between Broadway and 30th Avenue is a hub of indie flair, creative boutiques, galleries, antiques dealers and restaurants ...
“Nearly every block has a java joint. ... Some fear that South Main’s cool creativity could be its undoing. Developers and big retailers will swoop in ...”
If these don’t sound like original statements, they aren’t. The New York Times wrote them in an article titled Main Street, Not Mainstream. In 2007.
Yes, the tensions and symbolism of Main Street as a street in transition have been alive and well for some time. A lower-income area in the cultural centre of Vancouver became a thriving community for artists, for boutiques, for inclusiveness, for T-shirts celebrating East Vancouver.
Today every shop closure and rezoning application is part of a narrative of change, where a quirky lower-income street gets spruced up while losing the thing that made it special in the first place.
“We’re just so hip, we’re so cool. We’re all that and then some,” bemoans Burcu Ozdemir, who owns the vintage boutique store Burcu’s Angels at 16th and Main.
“As an immigrant, I don’t understand how we could make it so posh that you can’t rent anywhere for under $1,000, even in basements with cockroaches.
“It’s sad, but we’re still keeping it real as long as we possibly can.”
Ozdemir has been here nearly 20 years and knows her neighbours — it seems everyone’s a neighbour when they enter Burcu’s — like the back of her hand, whether they’re from a shelter down the street or a halfway house for men.
“It’s beauty and the beast here, and the beast is we’ve made it too avant-garde and beautiful and posh so folks can’t afford to live in this neighbourhood anymore,” she says.
Go online, and you’ll see many arguing that Main Street is the epicentre of the battle that pits developers and politicians against communities and history. Mention fires that have destroyed lots in the area in recent years, and you’ll get dark mutterings of forces at work to make gentrification easier.
On one side of the Main Street stretch spanning Mt. Pleasant and Riley Park, Rize Alliance has begun work on a 19-storey tower at Kingsway and Broadway.
“It’s beauty and the beast here, and the beast is we’ve made it too avant-garde and beautiful and posh so folks can’t afford to live in this neighbourhood anymore.”
ť BURCU OZDEMIR
OWNER, BURCU’S ANGELS
At the other, the eviction of residents of Little Mountain Housing Complex has finished, allowing for construction to begin on new social housing with towers of up to 10 storeys.
So you can’t blame some for feeling a little boxed in.
But every narrative has two sides. Abe’s Furniture was a fixture of the Main Street antique scene from 1961 until its closure in March.
Owner Sid Miedzygorski, son of Abe, worked full time at the store for 32 years and is now continuing the business online at abesfurniture.com.
Despite moving off Main — a decision based on a challenging retail market — Miedzygorski says he still loves the street and the fact that it’s evolving with fresh blood and ideas.
He’s seen more than a few overhauls of Main, but he doesn’t romanticize.
“It’s still working class, but there’s more pride,” he said. “It’s getting better, it’s a different look. The fabric is changing. It’s cleaned up, sure, but that’s progress, right?
“Everything’s moving from the west to the east. I bet Fraser Street is the next hub for development. People say it’s a shame, but 4th Avenue changed, Broadway changed, Cambie changed. Main Street’s evolving, and I’m not going to stop progress.”
Brent Toderian had a first-hand view — and say — on developments to Main as the city’s director of planning from 2006 until early 2012. The emotional attachment to Main Street is strong, he acknowledges.
“Main Street has a brand ... but because of market forces, it’s difficult to freeze any street in amber,” he says. “Many communities wish we could do that. Not just in terms of the form, but even more emotionally, the stores themselves.
“I’ve often been asked if there are planning mechanisms that let us protect the mom and pop stores, prevent increases in private rentals, protect the stores with unique character and keep them from being replaced. And the answer is no.”
The question of accelerated change on Main is when, not if. Toderian hopes that those who love the street as it is now will be there to shape its change.
“People mistake a certain price or density as the only thing that defines an area’s character. And the important thing as Vancouver grows is not to try and fight the growth, but making sure that authenticity and sense of place remains.
“And that’s a proactive thing. You’ve got to know what your character is, so you can fight for it.”
Main Street is used to the fight. It’s been happening for a while. A street synonymous with poverty decades ago is now a thriving confluence of many of the things that define Vancouver today.
And befitting of its name, it makes the question of where it is heading all the more fascinating.