When San Francisco's Presidio became the test case
for whether a national park can operate like a private business, critics
warned that either rampant development or weedy decline would overwhelm the
expansive former Army base at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Ten years later, the doomsayers are wrong. But a
more subtle threat has emerged: The potential to make the Presidio a place
of far-reaching cultural significance could be lost.
What's taking shape instead is a scenic enclave
where only the well-heeled need apply. Some houses rent for more than $4,000
a month, and the most recent private development project converted a former
medical warehouse into an Asian-themed
spa. In the Main Post, where a line of red-brick barracks casts a poised
and memorable spell, the first museum likely will focus on the life of Walt
Disney.
Instead of a guiding vision, there's a business
strategy that caters to tenants who can pay top-market rents or renovate
buildings on their own -- with no higher purpose than the bottom line.
The park opened in 1994 with an ambitious plan to
turn the largest green space in San Francisco into an idealistic mecca, a
"permanent installation serving a peaceful world." But when
Congress balked at the cost, the 1,168 inland acres were transferred two
years later from the National Park Service to the Presidio Trust, an
appointed board with marching orders to make the Presidio financially
self-sufficient by 2013.
On many fronts the Trust is doing well. Forests
are being replanted, and trails are being cleared. In the Main Post, a
long-buried creek runs free amid native seedlings. More than 350 of the
Presidio's 469 historic buildings have been restored. The Letterman Digital
Arts Complex -- a large complex near Lombard Gate developed by "Star
Wars" creator George Lucas -- adds 17 acres of landscaped space to the
park, as well as $5.8 million in annual rent.
But as the Trust begins work on the Presidio's
remaining districts, the bottom line isn't enough. If buildings are filled
strictly on the basis of who has the deepest wallets, the result could be a
monument to lowered expectations -- rather than a tribute to the remarkable
setting and history.
"The ultimate test will be the decisions made
from here on," says Brian O'Neill, superintendent of the Golden Gate
National Recreation Area, which manages the Presidio's 323 acres along the
ocean and bay. "We need to think about framing what the Presidio
ultimately means to the American public."
Making the old new again
The two faces of change at the Presidio can be
seen on Lincoln Boulevard as it nears the Main Post's former parade ground,
a parking lot the size of six football fields that is loosely framed by two
centuries of military landmarks.
On the right near Girard Street is a creek snaking
through freshly terraced soil, the light brown of the earth dotted with
carefully placed seedlings representing nearly 100 native species. This
150-yard-long stretch of Tennessee Hollow was buried for more than a century
but now flows as the first phase of what eventually could be a mile-long
stream restoration project.
One block to the left is something completely
different: the conversion of two clapboard barracks from 1862 into private
office space. The oldest U.S. Army buildings at the Presidio, they sat empty
until the Trust spent $3 million to update the utilities, add seismic
reinforcement and connect the buildings with a central wing that includes an
elevator for disabled access to the second floors.
Architecturally, this is exactly how Presidio
buildings should evolve -- with discreet sophistication that doesn't gussy
up the past. But look at the tenants: a money manager, an insurance company,
and firms that specialize in computer software and digital arts.
Throughout the Presidio, the real-estate market
determines who goes where.
Nearly all of the 1,100 former military residences
have been restored, because the Bay Area housing market is always hot. But
even by local standards, the prices are high. For example, 12 prim houses
from 1921, known as Pilot's Row and lined up near the Golden Gate Bridge,
rent for $4,200 a month -- utilities not included.
On the commercial side, Dave Spencer came to the
Trust in 2004 with the idea for an urban spa and was steered to a
long-decrepit warehouse on Gorgas Avenue built in 1919. Today, the exterior
looks much the same except for fresh white paint and a red shingle roof that
conceals new insulation.
Step inside, though, and the rough-hewn beams
frame a refined oasis: SenSpa, a 12,000-square-foot spa outfitted with cozy
seating areas, glass-encased water walls and a decor that includes dried
yucca stems in four-foot-high urns.
"We wanted the bones of the building to be
austere ... but then insert modern elements that create an 'Aha' factor when
you walk in," Spencer said.
The transformation is ingenious, but this is
hardly the sort of use that will attract casual parkgoers -- not with a
50-minute "Thai massage" for $120, or a $170 cellulite treatment
that includes pink grapefruit oils and a "warm ginger foot
massage."
Trust officials say you can't have an improved
landscape without a strong balance sheet; the $23 million in residential
rent in 2005, for example, is a big reason the Trust showed an operating
profit. That income also funds such projects as the $900,000 being spent
this year on reforestation, or the design work for the new Immigrant Point
overlook -- a gorgeous perch above the ocean on Washington Boulevard
unveiled last year after a donor gave $1 million to make the drawings come
to life.
Swords into plowshares
Until it became a park in 1994, the Presidio spent
218 years as a military base. Spain, Mexico and then the United States saw
it as uniquely important, the place where the Pacific Ocean meets the West
Coast's finest natural harbor.
And when it came time to map the post-military
future, ambitions were as boundless as the views from Immigrant Point.
Consider the management plan adopted by the National Park Service in 1994:
"The Presidio's new role symbolizes the swords-into-plowshares
concept," it began, saying the aim should be "a global center
dedicated to the world's most critical environmental, social and cultural
challenges."
Then reality intervened.
The Republicans who won control of Congress in
1994 had little interest in forever funding what one legislator called
"a city park for San Francisco paid for by government funds."
Finally, a 1996 compromise transferred all inland property to a new entity:
the Trust, with six members appointed by the president and one appointed by
the secretary of the Interior.
Now, Executive Director Craig Middleton heads up a
corporation with 330 employees and a $43 million operating budget. He
defines his job in methodical terms rather than utopian ideals.
The Presidio initially was "an empty vessel
that everyone could pour all our hopes into," said Middleton, who
worked on the 1994 plan as a staff member representing Rep. Nancy Pelosi,
D-San Francisco. "We came to see that Congress preserved this place
because this place is wonderful. Let's concentrate on that, rather than
trying to do something else."
That's fine -- to a point. But even the Trust plan
adopted in 2002 lifts its sights above the mundane task of making things
look good.
"We envision a place where public, private
and nonprofit sectors come together and share their ideas," it states,
with one-third of all building space reserved for "public uses,
including education and cultural tenants." The plan also emphasizes
"diverse and meaningful visitor experiences."
The word "meaningful" is the one that
counts. Not all buildings should go to the highest bidders; some must offer
visitors a sense of worlds beyond their knowledge, and thoughts beyond the
norm.
The best example at the Presidio is Arion Press, a
publisher with roots in San Francisco stretching back to 1920. Its editions
of such classics as "Moby-Dick" and contemporary works that pair
poets and artists are considered to be among the most exquisitely printed
books in the world.
The press arrived in 2001 after losing its home
near South Park in the dot-com boom.
It now occupies an old laundry, a functional space
that can hold a bazaar of old presses and the nation's largest type-foundry,
with a small gallery tossed in.
Arion Press came to Presidio at the urging of
former UC Berkeley chancellor and Smithsonian Institution head Ira Michael
Heyman, who was on the Trust board at the time. Today, Heyman says, room
must be set aside for tenants and uses that convey a sense of the West
Coast's history, cultures and dreams.
"There are wonderful stories that can be told
if the Trust thinks this through," Heyman says. "The Presidio can
be a place to explore the opportunities and problems of California and the
West."
The place to start is at the Main Post, where all
the strands of the Presidio story come together.
On the south are remnants of the Spanish El
Presidio from 1776; the eastern edge includes Civil War-era structures from
early U.S. days. Most picturesque of all are the brick Montgomery Street
Barracks from the 1890s -- and a vista opening toward the bay.
Working with the landscape architecture firm Olin
Partnership, the Trust has fashioned plans to replace the asphalt plateau of
the former parade ground with a simple but potentially spectacular space: a
grand lawn with a pavilion and amphitheater at the south end and, along the
eastern edge, more intimate spaces that also would offer protection from the
elements.
If donors are found to make it happen, the result
could be an inland counterpart to Crissy Field -- the bayside jewel created
by the National Park Service that opened in 2001 and is the city's most
majestic promenade.
That's why it is ominous that the recently
renovated clapboard buildings on the edge of the parade ground were treated
as nothing more than income generators for the trust. Imagine if they had
been reserved as incubator space for environmental nonprofits.
It's also ominous that the first red-brick barrack
to be restored is likely to house a museum devoted to the life of Walt
Disney. His family's private foundation already leases space at the
Presidio, and is negotiating with the trust for a full museum.
On the plus side, a Disney museum could be a
popular draw, even if it has no real connection to the park. But if it sets
a precedent -- will a "Star Wars" interactive center be next? --
the Main Post's powerful sense of place could erode.
"If I were still on the board, I'd say,
'Guys, what you've done so far is great,' " said Heyman. " 'It's
time to sit back for six months and think about what the Presidio as a whole
ought to be. It's fine what's going on, but there has to be something more.'
"
The Golden Gate National Recreation Area's O'Neill
agrees.
"We need to look at what makes the Presidio
significant in terms of it being a national park and a national
landmark," he said. "The Presidio is a better place now than 10
years ago. From here on, rather than force it, we need to make sure we get
it right."
It's not easy to say what "getting it
right" will mean, or what opportunities lie ahead. But the only way to
find out is for the Trust to aim for something great. Don't just settle for
the best deal at hand. - 2006 June 18 SAN
FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
Forest City trims Presidio housing plans
Smaller project for hospital aims to pacify neighbors
The Presidio Trust is scaling back plans for a ritzy rental housing
development at the old Public Health Service Hospital, hoping a more modest alternative will
quell neighbourhood opposition.
Under the revised plan, the trust and project developer Forest City
Development would reduce the number of units it builds from 350 to 230, according to
Presidio Trust Executive Director Craig Middleton. Of the 230 units, Forest City would
develop 202 apartments, and the rest would be done by the trust.
Middleton said the trust is attempting to respond to criticism that the
original development at the hulking, long-abandoned structure was too dense and
would create too
