In a Salon article called Neo-bohemian rhapsody, Andrew O’Hehir talks about living in The Mission neighborhood in the late 80s in San Francisco. His text is an echo to a new book by sociologist Richard Lloyd called: Neo-Bohemia: Art and Commerce in the Postindustrial City, which uses Chicago’s hipster enclave Wicker Park to talk about neighborhoods that become gentrified through alternative culture.
I recognized a lot of what O’Hehir describes about the Mission even though I was there in the early 1990s and not the 80s (check out my old place). A lot of what he describes also applies to Montreal’s Plateau and the Mile-End.
« Wicker Park, as Lloyd tells the tale, was a relatively late neo-bohemia; no sooner was the « scene » created than it was discovered. He recounts an amusing anecdote about several neighborhood locals, some of whom had lived there as briefly as six months, deriding the crowd of « 708ers » (invaders from the northern suburbs) outside a Veruca Salt show. Obviously, Lloyd’s friends don’t really know where the Veruca Salt fans live; given the rising rents in Wicker Park, many of them may live there. But « the performance of cultural distinction, » that is, the ability to define oneself as a member of a select in-group, has always been important to bohemians, neo- or not. »
In Montreal, they make fun of the « 450s ». Different cities, same hipster attitude.
« Neo-bohemia is always contaminated by nostalgia, by the belief that the scene is over, and has been over since the yuppies moved in, the old bookstore closed, the Starbucks opened and so on. […]
This is fascinating, original and deeply humane sociology at its finest; he demonstrates that in the name of freedom, young people working in allegedly relaxed service-sector jobs waste years of their lives in a whirl of drugs, alcohol and deceptively low wages. It’s a classic example of a circular economy: While a bartender at an upscale Wicker Park club may earn $250 or more in tips from a shift, he or she is likely to go right out to an after-hours club with friends and spend it all on lavish tips to another bartender on the circuit. To anyone who’s ever worked in the nightlife business, all this will ring sad but true. […]
Contrary to the way some of its residents feel (to the way I felt in 1995, for instance) neo-bohemia is not « over » when it has been discovered by hordes of Oxford-clad yuppies and blathering newspaper reporters. In fact, it’s only coming into its own. Neighborhoods like the Mission and Wicker Park (and even older bohemias like Greenwich Village or San Francisco’s North Beach) retain much of their power as bohemian signifiers even when they’ve become too expensive for many young artists. This is just another of the numerous contradictions they embody; to be neo-bohemian at all, they must remain superficially hospitable to anti-establishment values while becoming both a « bohemian-themed entertainment zone » and a site of postindustrial production. »
Tr�s int�ressant.
It’s the old rebel sell, all over again.
– in order for there to be an « in, » some must be « out. »
– One defining factor of « in » – living in a bohemian neighborhood etc – and also, the « being at the right place at the right time »- are positional goods, i.e. items that are not commodities, and only a limited number of people can possess at any one time. Only a few people can claim to ‘have lived on the Plateau before the yuppie invasion » for instance, or who « saw Nirvana when they opened for Screaming Trees » back in the day.
– There is a mythos of purity, a quest for authenticity, a rejection of the false, the co-opted, the crassly commercial. Of course nobody turns away the money when the record deals / big gallery shows / Hollywood studios come calling ;)
On the Plateau it’s particularly insidious, because there is ample evidence that the area is outside of all of this « hipster » stuff. The « scene » for instance might have been discovered recently in terms of the music (but is the music identified with Montreal really from the Plateau?). For Plateau-ites of my generation (moved there first in 1986, then away in 1990 and back from 1994 to 2005), the « hipster » aspect of the Plateau ended a LONG time ago – when the cinemas where SoftImage is located were torn down, when the Bomb Shelter closed down and Excentris took its spot on the Main a couple of years later. For many, the Main stopped being « hip » when LUX closed – and I bet that hardly anyone even remembers LUX.
Nevertheless, the Plateau remains pretty « hip » and regardless of any gentrification, you still have Chez Doval and Romados and Miami and places like those. Laika is a post-hip locale, no doubt about it – but it’s still a pretty great spot.
Ground zero for artists has been fairly transient over the decades in Chicago. Wicker Park (�90�s) is getting the press right now, but it was Lakeview north of downtown in the �80�s and currently the real center is Pilsen south of downtown. Each has gone through the cycle of gang infested to artist center to gentrification. Oddly, I had aspired to live in Lakeview when it was an artist center but did not get a chance to live there until it became gentrified and I had technically become a yuppie. The area still has a bohemian feel since it is the center of the gay, lesbian, bi community (Boystown).
mikel: I remember Lux. and Business, and all those places. In the early 90s I used to work at Radio-Centreville right next door, on the Saturday alternative music show. Heck, I remember when the Plateau « scene » was a bunch of bombed-out warehouses and decrepit loft spaces. Not that I’m nostalgic, it’s definitely better today as a living neighborhood, but at the time it seemed very alive, vital, and local; arguably, it’s articles like that one from Utne declaring it a Hip neighborhood a few years ago that accelerated its revitalization.
I agree – a lot of the so-called « Montreal scene » is really just people who currently live *in* or drink around the Plateau, but in many cases come from elsewhere. (Not to be heretical, but is anyone in the Arcade Fire actually from Montreal? not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just curious) Maybe that’s its charm and its craziness; everyone is from somewhere else, the proximity to the McGill ghetto doesn’t hurt, bunch of kids out of their depth, in a city that speaks a different language, and thus operating in that peculiar state of being very open to constantly meeting new people…or constantly meeting the same people who all seem strangely connected.
It’s true that the « hip » time of the Plateau was quite a few years back, at least in terms of truly « alternative » culture. If the book talked about the Montreal area, it would probably be more interested in Rosemont, Hochelaga and St-Henri.
Im not so sure but is it just me or anyone who’s a struggling musician is living in St-Henri now. I prefer the frenchiness of St-Denis street.
Is this Plateau scene anglo or franco or both and they merge and come together to form what they are (what articles make them out to be). Yes, Mcgill students, Im not sure what out of their depth means but there is something about foreigners well expressed in that Vice Guide (giveaway at Bifteck). Ironic since that’s where they seem to rally. Korova, Bifteck, DAome. I was at Miami once, what a hole in the wall. Nostalgia eh?
In response to Frank, ground zero for hipness is necessarily transient — as I write, « with the cutting edge, public announcement typically amounts to an obituary. » Some are self confident enough to presume that wherever they happen to be is the center of it all — like me, which is why I now know that Nashville TN is the actual coolest city in the US. Chicago’s art scene, pre and post the WP moment, has seemed to me pretty splintered, divided among several claiments on « ground zero » (including Wrigeyville, Lakeview, Uptown, and Rodger’s Park in the 80’s, and Logan Square, Ukie Village, Pilsen and Bridgeport today). But, the argument in the book is not about identifying the genuine article of cutting edge hipness at some given moment. Cool is the book’s MacGuffin –it’s really about late capitalist transformation and the way cities and neighborhoods adapt in a global, postindustrial economy. Which is why the periodic criticisms that my book is innocent of some far more « edgy » or « authentic » scene in Chicago (maybe in Pilsen?) are sort of beside the point.
Martine: I will be in Montreal for the first time in August. Any good ideas where a neo-bohemian tourist should go?
RDL
Richard, thanks for your comment! You didn’t leave an e-mail address and I wonder if you’ll come back to read this reply, but if you do come to Montreal, I think you’ll enjoy the well-known Plateau, of course, but you’ll also want to hang out around the Mile-End neighborhood. These are well established « cool » enclaves, but if you have more time you might want to check out the St-Henri and the Hochelaga-Maisonneuve « quartiers », which are fast changing.
Of course, if you are in Montreal on the evening of the first Wednesday of August, you have to come and meet the Montreal Bloggers (www.yulblog.org) at a bar called La Cabane, on St-Laurent Street.
Here are some links to these areas:
The Plateau
The Mile-End
St-Henri
Hochelaga Maisonneuve