Target stores
http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryanrules/3167906446/sizes/o/
This first image is one that surprises many people. It is the interior of a Target store, a pretty common site to most people. However, all those black circles in the ceiling? All cameras, making this a very, very jittery space, as defined by Flusty. Most people don’t notice these cameras. In my Target, which is a small one located in Milltown, NJ, there are 120 cameras. I used to work there, so I know a number of security specs and details. This picture is of the DVD section, one very potent for shoplifting, but it just goes to show how jittery a space can be regardless of whether the occupant is aware. But by entering the store, a private establishment, a person gives up their right to privacy and can be “watched”. Every aisle has a camera, and some aisles have multiple cameras. The segmenting of the store makes its recordability streamlined and very effective. However, the sheer number of cameras makes them impossible to all watch simultaneously. There is an entire department dedicated to “product retention” and they employ rent-a-cops and review tape if suspicious activity occurs.
However, the bottom line is that I know many employees and shoppers who have stolen from the store, without ever being followed up on. The cameras areĀ there and make their presence known. They are black on a white ceiling, with high contrast. They act as a deterrant more than an actual security device. 120 cameras in a small store not even doing their job well sounds silly, but it likely saves Target millions. They could even just place these black bubbles in the ceilings with no actual cameras there and they probably would still retain more products.
These cameras attempt to control people to prevent them from shoplifting, and it attempts to keep these people out of the store altogether. This tends to support Flusty’s arguments of public space turning into more stringently watched private space, as old stores may have not been monitored because they were essentially public space, these spaces are clearly private due to the cameras and flexing their “private muscles”.
Burger Joint NYC (Le Parker Meridien, 57th Street)



This is a quite different example that I myself find very interesting. Inside “Le Parker Meridien,” a very expensive hotel and restaurant located on 57th Street between 6th and 7th, holds this secret in its lobby. You start in what looks like an innocent hotel lobby (image 1), and there is sometimes a line coming out of the curtains. Only when you come far enough into the lobby to see inside the curtain, you see where the people are going (image 2). The sign (image 3) is the first indication that this place exists, and that it serves burgers. After waiting in the line, you see the prize (image 4), a dirty-looking, underground burger joint. There is no indication outside on the street or in the lobby until one sees this sign. Though the reason for its secrecy is not security, it still chooses to make itself a stealthy and slippery space.
The reason for this secrecy is really just to monitor who comes in. It does not attract the usual crowd of the Parker Meridien, and due to its location it does not attract the usual crowd of, say, a McDonalds down the street. Its menu is a cardboard sheet, and the walls are plastered with rock and movie posters. The restaurant is mostly to filter to “hipsters” and those who know the NYC restaurant scene. It deters tourists, and only allows insiders who hear about it through word of mouth (like myself), since they do not advertise at all. Even the name, “Burger Joint NYC” is completely client-produced. Their “name” is the neon sign of the burger. I think the materials and settings are perfect for this public space, and I think they seem to disprove Flusty’s arguments, because they are not for security, paranoia, or really anything. They merely exclude those who don’t “know the ropes” of New York, and do not attempt to exclude anyone who hears about them.
East Brunswick Turf Fields

These are the topics of my possible unit 1 paper, the turf fields in my town. Though they are totally open to the public, only surrounded by a 4 ft fence (to keep balls and players on the turf), they are still a slippery space. The fields, as one can see, are secluded from the two main roads they are near, Cranbury and Dunhams Corner Rd. They are not visible from either road, and there are no signs to indicate where they are from the entrance on Dunhams Corner Rd. Their only indication for outsiders are their bright lights that are lit during the evenings. Though the spaces are totally public, they exclude those who weren’t previously informed of their existence. They, in this way, exclude people who shouldn’t be there, basically anyone who shouldn’t be watching or playing on or maintaining the fields. While I understand that the fields shouldn’t be ruined by too much human traffic, I just don’t understand this aspect of their creation. There is plenty of space closer to the roads, and even though this could be a safety hazard, they are intended to be public spaces, and their current location in no way “invites” people to come unless they know about them.
This combines some aspects of Target, reducing crime (like possible sexual predator crimes), and aspects of the Burger Joint, exclusion of those without prior knowledge. So just due to their location, the turf fields, which seem like the most public of the spaces, is really the least public. This is not to say that they’re private, but merely that they’re less public. The road you drive on to get there, in the desolate old farm fields, reminds one of the privilege it is to know of this free location, as it drives you away from society. These implications of privilege in public space speaks clearly to Flusty’s essay, and begs the question: who are the field makers really trying to exclude from the space?