Have Main Street residents warmed up to the Main Street Poodle since its chilly reception in January 2013? Unfortunately, the answer is still no. Residents are just as confused by the poodle as they were close to two years ago. This is not the case for the Dirty Biter sculpture in La Conner, Washington, which is highly regarded by locals and tourists alike.

Histories

Gisele Amantea, who resides in Montreal, Quebec, constructed the untitled work referred to as the “Main Street Poodle.” The sculpture is a 7-foot tall, white porcelain poodle that sits atop a 25-foot post. Installed by the Vancouver public arts program and paid for by the federal government, TransLink, and City of Vancouver, the total cost for the poodle amounted to $97, 600. The poodle is intended to represent Main Street’s quirky vibe and antique businesses. The piece was a part of an art series presented on the #3 bus route.

Dirty Biter, who was neither dirty nor a biter, was constructed by Bill Matheson, a steel, brass, and bronze sculptor in La Conner. The sculpture is a memorial to Dirty Biter, a dog that lived from the early 1970s to 1982. The sculpture sits on a metal bench in Dirty Biter Park next to Dirty Biter’s favourite tavern. Its crooked jaw depicts the consequence of an accident Dirty Biter had while biting a car tire. Dirty Biter’s sculpture is a reminder of a past La Conner, before it became a commercialized tourist attraction.

Interpretations of the Main Street Poodle

My first impression of the poodle was that, hidden between trees and lampposts, it is hard to find. I walk right underneath it several times before noticing its presence. Having owned poodles all my life, I personally love them and hate to admit that the sculpture does not evoke much emotional or cognitive response from me. Regardless of the side of the street I am on, all I can do is gaze up at the out of reach poodle.

Rebecca, a resident of the area, believes that a stroller on a pedestal would more accurately represent Main and E 18^th Ave because it is a family area. She finds it insulting that while kids are generally the ones who like the poodle, they are not at all able to physically engage with the artwork. The poodle can function as a landmark for directions, which she considers a bonus, but otherwise, Rebecca is glad it can be easily ignored.

Meghan, a condo owner, is thankful that her balcony does not have a view of the poodle. She feels bad for neighbours who have to face the back end of a dog when they look outside. Originally believing the poodle was a school prank, Meghan was disappointed to discover that the city funded such an expensive art project. She believes inserting garbage cans to keep the area clean would have been a better use of the money. Meghan maintains that a giant hipster on a pedestal would have been a better depiction of Main Street.

Interpretations of Dirty Biter

Lou, a resident of Shelter Bay near La Conner, loves the sculpture. To her, it represents a funkier version of La Conner before it transformed into a yuppie tourist area. Ollie Iverson, La Conner’s Parks Commissioner, also loves Dirty Biter and its tribute to a family dog.

A couple from Coast Hoquiam, four hours from La Conner, likes the statue and the story it represents. They believe that the connection between the artwork and its location is appropriate. Dirty Biter gives visitors insight into La Conner’s history and the couple believes he was a well-loved dog. They can imagine people sitting down and engaging with the sculpture on sunny days.

Contrasts

Dirty Biter appears to do everything the Main Street Poodle cannot. It can be considered a communicative and interactive artwork. The audience, which includes people of different genders and ages, is compelled to touch, rub, hug, and interact with Dirty Biter. Furthermore, Dirty Biter has inspired the creation of more art, such as crocheted collars and garments that can be attached to the sculpture. The artwork communicates a history of La Conner and a personal story of a beloved dog.

Spectators can cognitively and physically engage with Dirty Biter in ways they cannot with the Main Street Poodle. Many residents believe that the poodle is not fulfilling its purpose of accurately representing Main Street. When Vancouver constructs a piece of art that is intended to represent the surrounding area, the communities input and support should be made a priority. Will Main Street ever get its Dirty Biter?

And here’s a picture of the backside from a wayfinding kiosk at another location, if you’re curious what’s on the back…

Wayfinding Kiosk at Commercial and 13th. Photo: Roland Tanglao.

We first mentioned these kiosks last when they first went up just prior to the Games – and remarked on the fact that they were long-overdue in the City. And yes, despite what follows, we’re still glad they’re here.

But upon scrutinizing what’s actually displayed, I found myself grimacing a little. The middle panel with the copious amounts of text under the headline “Mount Pleasant” is a listing of all the businesses in the area, sorted by category (such as “Restaurants”), along with their address and phone number. The aesthetic and presentation of the directory is clearly reminiscent of that used on signs in malls.

I sent and commented on the above photo to Twitter, and received a couple of replies questioning my discontent:

Both valid points, certainly, which encouraged me to revisit why the retail-heavy content felt inappropriate and out of place for me. To expand upon my initial ideas, which I tweeted to Seth from Edmonton, I believe it is because my feeling about neighbourhoods is profoundly different than the one I have for malls.

Whether it’s Main Street or Hunt’s Point in The Bronx, neighbourhoods are, first and foremost, venues of daily life. Their features reflect the sum total of life having unfolded, and continuing to unfold, over time and space. Buildings get old, are vacated, renovated, rejuvenated, modified and, sadly for this and other older districts, burned down; new buildings find their legs in the spaces between older ones. Malls are in many ways the antithesis of this; they are ahistorical in their presentation, focused on birthing the buying moment, unless nostalgia is part of the sell. They reflect the desire to produce a highly controlled and curated environment, which keeps at bay the difficulties associated with weather, multiple modes of traffic, the ravages of time and the challenge of competing interests in limited spaces. They seldom seem to age well, propped up by the building equivalents of Botox.

Wayfinding is undoubtedly an important contribution to the pedestrian experience, for it guides us by helping us form expectations of said experience. We might say a city or neighbourhood is “legible” or” understandable” through the way it is laid out, which helps someone traveling on foot to understand where you are and where you want to go. Malls are laid out and designed with anchor tenants (such as department stores or supermarkets) at the ends of its corridors and certain arrangements to maximize retail frontage values, as well as to expose foot traffic as much as possible to all the stores in between. The mall directory helps you navigate what is typically a non-linear layout. They make sense when you consider that distinguishing landmarks might be restricted to store signage features, or that layout of a mall happens over multiple floors, which can only be accessed by elevators and escalators located in specific spots. Its legibility is certainly challenging to a first-time or infrequent visitor.

Main Street is comparably simpler and easier to understand — it’s a linear corridor in a grid with evenly spaced-out regular intersections. For this reason, the store-directory-as-wayfinding-kiosk almost seems like a bit of overkill. Designed in this fashion, it strikes me that the sign tries hard but ultimately missed the mark; the authors haven’t created a kiosk that gives pride of place to the sort of stuff that would help a visitor discover the essence of the place… just a sector-specific portion of it. Getting to the essence, i think, is the sort of thing that would come with asking a broader question like: what is interesting about this neighbourhood? Not: where can I buy shoes? While retail information has it’s use, a good info post would ideally give you access to details on a range of items: local pointsof interest, bathrooms, community policing, pay phones, maybe a 24 hour eatery… and the sorts of other features that make the neighbourhood different from a trip to Pacific Centre.

Now, to be fair, the kiosk does retain perhaps the most important elements from its use as Olympic wayfinding, such as important transit routes and connections, and it does feature a smaller section on ‘Neighbourhood Destinations’ (out of frame further down on the second picture above). In the Main Street case, it lists landmarks and notable spots like Queen Elizabeth Park and Heritage Hall.

Fundamentally, there is a line to walk between promoting the businesses to make the street and the neighbourhood welcoming and accessible, and providing actual utility to newcomers through the features of the sign. Given that the local Business Improvement Association sponsors the sign, I understand the push. They’re fulfilling their mandate by promoting the shops and businesses along this corridor, supporting the local economy and so forth. All good things. So the issue to me is more about balance in content. Personally, I think show-casing a complete range of community amenities would probably support the local economy more in the long run. (And in the grand scheme of things, this sign is still a step-down in my mind, from the corporate logos gracing the wayfinding signage in the Olympic Village).

No doubt, translating this notion of balance into the design and presentation of the information, while remaining equitable to all businesses, is a formidable challenge. The presence of these information kiosks is good, but the content elements shows signs of needing a bit of a re-think.