Saturday, February 23, 2008

retail Architects and urbanists, rather than retail developers

The lessons of Underhill’s work, derived from invaluable cold empirical research, delivers new agency to designers and their clients. The information base required for a critical and creative endeavor has been laid, something comparable to the phenomenon of the emergence of the architect-mathematician-technician paradigm. As retail increasingly requires the input of these new professionals, transdisciplinary hybrids are born in response to new necessity. What is the work of these specialists?

Architecture’s ability to provide a different scale of analysis, and the ability to organize many scales of information can offer synthesis to the multiple forms of research. A new form of practice should involve the god’s eye view paired with literally grounded modes of analysis and expression. The specifics about regional conditions, information understood from maps and aerial photographs, are among the elements. Another is the anthropological dimension vis a vis Underhill. “Architectural documents” are also invaluable, perhaps the key mid scale, itself an accommodation of multiple scales. Firms like NBBJ deal with things like this, though I am skeptical of the extent that the urbanist’s scale is consulted. At the level of infrastructure, allowing a distinction of urban and suburban with an understanding of the future, designers might better understand the link between suburbanism and shopping, the individual.


“After all, what do we really know, in the end, about why people buy? We know about the Invariant Right and the Decompression Zone. We know to put destination items at the back and fashion
at the front, to treat male shoppers like small children, to respect the female derrière, and to put the socks between the cash/wrap and the men's pants. But this is grammar; it's not prose. It is enough. But it is not much.” (Gladwell 15).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2GfOhFZkY8

Thursday, February 21, 2008

bookmark hyperlink

erik maso and greg levy, bookmark hyperlink

file:///Users/erikmaso/Desktop/greg%20levy_erik%20maso/enmaso_philippines.html

copy/paste into browser

Monday, February 18, 2008

mega-mall theatrics

Severini's depiction of the mall as a fantastical theater is a rare relationship. Yet,
this reference can be clearly seen when the mall is stripped of its inhabitants and
reduced to mere architectural detail. In our everyday lives one typically views the mall
as a consumer and rarely through an architectural lens. Severini depicts for us, the
theatrics of the mall in the absence of human life yet, shows the liveliness of the mall
through color, light, and ornament. In the absence of man the mall is still a lively
space. Spatially, the mall is its own world. The space is special because it is able to
break every role and preconception for it is completely separated from the outside world.
Severini makes this fascinatingly rare occurrence a practical one. The mall as both a
spatial object and as a playground for human interface is now inherently apparent. This
relationship is special for it has the ability to bring to life the seemingly debunked
spaces that coexist in a singular shell and comprises a magical world in which we have
come to define as a mall.

Seperating fantasy from reality

The shopping mall is a place where reality does not exist. It makes us forget about all the other concerns or troubles we may have outside the mall. This is because the mall’s environment makes us forget these concerns and makes us focus on shopping. It hypnotizes us to shop, shop, and did I mention more shopping? The mall controls the environment inside from the designs, circulation, lights, even temperature. Kowinski goes into detail about these events and explains them becoming it’s own special world. So basically, when this was all complete, malls are like a Disney Land or a Universal Studios in that they create an alternate reality for us.

Projects such as Carousel Mall and the Meadowlands Xanadu are great examples to relate to. These two malls create a sense of stability, peace, and most importantly, excitement and fun when entering these malls. The temperature is just right, it’s not too cold or too hot, you see new people, and also there are many more things to do besides shop and eat. Examples of this are the Carousel or the movies in Carousel Mall or even the large indoor ski arena in Xanadu. Whatever mall it might be, the main goal for these malls is to get rid of the outside world and focus on the people inside and forcing them to shop. This is once again, another example of how consumerism rules the world and controls our minds.

Another mall, a new experience

As defined by the Urban Land institute, a mall is “A group of architecturally unified commercial establishments built on a site which is planned, developed, owned and managed as an operating unit.” Unification and commercialization are the basis of malls all over the word. The goal of mall owners and developers is to have a “cookie cutter” system that will produce successful establishments all over the word. Kowinski’s article speaks of this controlled planning that is so successful in a mall. The environment is completely staged; the temperature, the lighting, the smells, the colors, what stores are inside. They create a world that is based on how people react to the spaces they are experiencing. Controlling the experience of the occupant is always a motive for architects. This experience is controlled through a “kit of parts” type of system. Every mall has certain defining aspects that have proven successful for not only business, but for positive feedback by customers to their experience of the space. These designed “fantasy” worlds are what make people so intrigued by malls. They excite us and encourage us to feel safe and at ease to spend our money. Getting trapped in this fantasy world is what has driven mall architecture to where it is today, DestinyUSA being the ultimate example. The new mega-malls popping up all over the world are literally using a “kit of parts” to create this new worlds. For instance the Tuscan Village that is in the design for part of Destiny. The developers know how to attract people and they have done it in the past and will continue to create these worlds that bring us in and encourage us to forget about everything else going on outside the interior.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

A special new world

The secret world of shopping malls is a special place. It is the only place you can go that will take your mind off the outside world. Shopping malls create a space which makes a person relax, open up to the environment and gives people a sense of trust. There are three ways to achieve this special space which has its own set of rules and its own reality. To achieve this special space you need to create an enclosure which will provide protection from the elements and remove all disruptions and distractions. “Those are its secrets, the keys to the kingdom, the whole mall game.”(Kowinski 61) this is how malls seek out and create their own identity and reality.
Most malls are made up of a few anchor stores and several small stores. These stores do not always seem to belong together because of the different types of goods they sell. On the other hand they seem to create a kind of harmony which becomes visible and begins to break the rules and preconceptions we are use to. This is how shopping malls separate themselves from the rest of reality. By removing all traces of time and the outside world the Shopping mall focuses your concentration on what’s going on inside. Once this is done you have created a space separate from the outside world, a special space that is defined by your rules and that is the goal of the shopping mall.

balancing integration and discontinuity

The spiritual promise of the contemporary mall according to Zepp is made architectural at the central crossing of the two mall wings resulting in a circle. The formal similarity between the mall and places of worship can be made easily, but saying that they serve the same divine purpose for people is a radical claim that is not worth arguing in any academic manner because it relies on personal belief systems. What is more interesting is Zepp’s claim that the mathematical balance of the mall is a way of reinforcing that the world is ultimately safe. I think this is definitely an attractive asset that the mall has to offer urbanites and suburbanites. The atmosphere is highly regulated from the shiny polished floors, to the air conditioned corridors and shops, to the smells of cinnabon starbucks and aunt annies, to specific circulation routes. This highly regulated environment offers the consumer a sense of stability. Safety is almost always guaranteed as well being that malls typically are not accessible by public transportation therefore the lower class does not participate in these ‘sacred’ destinations.

Zepp seems to contradict himself when singing the praises of the mall. On one hand he argues the potential for the mall to be sacred because of its discontinuity from the ordinary world. On the other hand he argues that the mall attempts to make the world whole, to have it integrated, habitable, safe, and balanced. How does the mall make the world whole if it identifies itself as discontinuous from the ordinary world? Where is the integration in that? I think the mall attempts to be a micro utopian world in the sense that it offers all the goods and services of a city, but in a very clean, safe, timeless manner.

Need vs. Want

I wholeheartedly understand the “center.”
I don’t understand the empowerment one gets from shopping and this happiness that Zepp says one leaves with.
I feel that from architecture.
I feel that from travel and real life experience.
I feel that from religion.
I don’t feel that from entertainment and the shopping experience.
Or do I? Personally, if I go to a “center” to see a stand-up comic or a sporting event, I am entertained and I guess I leave feeling happier and slightly empowered that I got to do something I wanted to do. Knowing I spent money on something I wanted when I could have spent money on something I needed does bother me, however.
But when you think of the average person as described by Zepp, it seems that spending money on life’s necessities bothers them the most. It seems that modern society is least centered when doing that. Why spend extravagantly on a hotel with a huge room and bed when all you need is a bed and maybe an enclosed space, and in some cases you don’t even really need that. This may be getting a little too basic and maybe I am criticizing humanity on the whole, but why do we find “centeredness” in things we want and disappointment in things we need. If true harmony is centeredness with nature, life, and whatever higher power you may or may not believe in, why have places in which you splurge and obtain wants rather than needs overtaken these other places in which you can center yourself? “The Center was originally understood to be where God and people and heaven and earth were connected.” (Zepp 38)

Wheatley showed “how order integrates space at several significant levels.” (Zepp 51)
While Zepp “want[s] to add to this list the order of shopping malls, a combination of the ceremonial and the ritual” (Zepp 51) I however want to then again remove shopping malls from this list. Need and want are extremely different. Cosmic, political, ceremonial, and ritual all either satisfy a need or give back order and have circle-esque influences on humankind. Does the mall really center us as humans on a deeper level than the literal centering of our physical bodies in a space? Do we ever really need to be centered within the mall? Why is the mall sacred. I want to hear that 670 people out of 1000 who were surveyed said they saw the mall as a sacred space. We, meaning an audience of scholars, are over thinking the simplicity in the reasoning of the average human. Is the average individual profoundly moved by malls?

I like Zepp’s counterpoint to my claim of course, that when “churches, schools, and families (our three major institutions) fail us, we will seek other places to fulfill basic human needs.” Is the mall really the first place that comes to mind? Really? I’m not so convinced. I want to see surveyed individuals, families, church-goers, students. No doubt, malls, especially the large tourist attractions such as the Mall of America, have research and filled out surveys numbering ridiculously high on why people come to their mall. Do tourists and travelers go because they want to see the biggest mall and then get lost? It is more than a physical connection? I understand the point made there, but only briefly does Zepp even touch on the actual mental connections between these types of spaces.

It is almost like Venturi argued about Las Vegas. Zepp states that visitors of Prestonwood Town Center often “say that the easiest way to make a date at Prestonwood is to say, ‘meet you at the clock.’” (Zepp 56) Are we meeting in a center space because of its architectural implications or are we meeting at a sign that is simply so large and recognizable that no one could get lost if they oriented themselves at it? If the clock were near an entrance space would that space be deemed the “social” center of the mall, even if it is not geometrically or geographically central? We begin to argue semantics about the actual space of the mall and inevitably we can post-rationalize that each mall has a center. Is it about the feeling of a center or the geometry? Zepp needs to decide this in his writings. If it is about both why does he argue with some examples that exemplify either geometry or the social and human aspect of a center. Is one inherent with the other?

Ultimately, I know I am raising a lot of questions that we may not be able to answer. But when I read Ira Zepp’s The New Religion of Urban America I had nothing but these questions. Does anyone have the answers?

miniciti

So, if the center is the mall, what about the margins? Zepp talks about the mall as being a center for the people in local community. He also discusses how the physical organization of each mall typically has a center. For both, he presses the idea of the mall as fulfilling a community’s need for a center, which brings people together and provides an escape from the banal isolation of suburban life and therefore the creation of a ‘wholeness’ that one might gain from going to church on Sunday.

I’m uneasy with Zepp’s argument for the mall as a spiritual center. He definitely explains a different view of the mall as a place for centeredness, but it’s a kind of skewed understanding. Each of us has our own ‘world,’ our own geography, and there are different centers for different people. Perhaps I just don’t like the idea of one developer building a homogenous, anesthetized retail space, built primarily for the sale of goods as a new, community center. It makes the developer almost god-like (note Zepp’s other chapter on James Rouse) and cheapens the notion of spirituality and centeredness.

Every center has its opposition in the margin. And cities inevitably have multiple centers; smaller towns have maybe only one center (perhaps the local Wal-mart). Focus has obviously shifted to new types of retail/mixed-program organizations, but we can certainly do a comparison between the idea of the city center and the suburban mall. I think of Syracuse and it’s rather stuttering city center versus this new mini-city, Destiny USA, that’s being built a few miles away. It’s interesting to think about how and why these two constructs were developed. Both were built according to the needs of the community, the economy and social networks of the region. Lots of people own the city of Syracuse, each buying out plots of land in close proximity. One company, supported by other, global companies, owns Destiny. But as for social fulfillment or spiritual gratification, each is lacking. We still go to the mall, either talk to our friends or wander lonely and aimlessly, and get lost in the theater of retail, a real space/time entertainment.

House of Fantasy

In Kowinski’s work he exemplifies the standard American mall as an autonomous selling device, capable of being a place far beyond a destination to purchase consumer goods, but more of a “special world” (61) where protection and seclusion become essential elements to success. Kowinski brings to fruition the notion that the standard mall seen in America contains a plan governed by local patterns, mathematics, and demographics, all developed long before the mall was even conceptualized. At first one may mistake this equation to work in any location or application, leaving architecture with little influence; however Kowinski makes it evident that the culmination of so many different efforts into one building is the exact reason why architecture is very much at work in the American mall. He notes “it has some interesting architectural touches, due perhaps to the relatively unusual conjunctions…” (59). With so many different programs all working as one autonomous device, architecture is responsible to evoke a sense of scale, provocative enough to initiate exploring, yet subtle enough to ensure safety and comfort. Zepp concludes that “the enclosure, combined with architectural balance, engenders the sense of safety many people claim they find in the mall” (51). It becomes evident that the mall is primarily about promoting comfort and safety so that shoppers can relax and become immersed in the environment, thus making them susceptible to advertisement and improving the chances of purchasing something. The shopping malls of America are truly a product of architecture deeply embedded within a strict plan developed to initiate profit, as well as promote safety and relaxation in a sort of “house of fantasy…separated from the outside world” (61).

The Shopping Mall after Dark

In William Kowinski’s, “Secrets of the Shopping Mall,” he reveals another side of the mall that the everyday shopper never is allowed to experience. During business hours the mall is an energetic and highly lively atmosphere, with people occupying all of the general locales inside the shopping mall. The shoppers almost never gaze up at the grand architecture that occurs or the special moments that exist within the mall as they are distracted by the passing couple or crying child across the way. There is almost always some brightly lit sign or activity that draws the shopper away from the architecture and to the attraction.

It is when the mall is “turned off” for the night that observer is allowed to see the mall as it was built. Kowinski describes his experience as he “sat among the menagerie of mall rats, barflies, and potential duck terrorists,” the people who are given the chance to view the mall without distraction. It is during these night time moments that the mall’s “unity, preplanning, single and centralized management are most apparent.” Without the shoppers, one can see how similar all the stores in the mall are and it is their signs that may be the only separating factor.

Many people have experienced the closure of a mall, as they leave a movie that has ended past operating time, and the lack of shoppers is all too apparent. The closed mall feels almost unnatural, as it should be occupied at all times to feel comfortable. It is possible that it is the shoppers who make the mall what it is, and the daily commotion and activities are in place to distract from the unity and sameness present throughout most of the mall.

Thou Shalt Not Shop

What does it say about American culture that some writers would contend that the mall is the place where Americans go to gather, to regain some center, and be a part of some bigger social order? I agree that spatially, malls have the potential to be quite nice. The designers of these things go to great pains to make sure its well lit, somewhat vegetated, and a place where people want to stay. So at night when no one is around to partake in the orgy of consumption, a mall can actually be quite a nice space, though still somewhat creepy in its desertedness. So if malls bring people together, provide a nice place to be, and provide a new institution for the social and spiritual well-being and interconnectedness of humanity, then what's the problem?

The answer is painfully obvious and ever-present in most people's mind when they shop. They know that the mall is not a true Garden of Eden, but simply a transient charm granted by our friend Mephistopheles, a charm for which he will collect dues. And we know this, when we center ourselves in these spaces, halfway between half-off jeans at JCPenny's after-Christmas clearance and half-off blouses at Kaufmann's New Year's sale and standing only yards away from Wendy's salads with half the calories. The soul can never be enlightened/soothed/centered while engaged in the inherently soulless act of material consumption.

But to be fair, people need clothes. What does it matter if they get them at a big department store or some small boutique? Furthermore, what does it matter if that store is in a mall or by itself? The answers to these questions (and a million like it) are numerous, complicated, and debatable. But the fact remains that there is something fundamentally wrong not necessarily with malls, but with the forces that created them. The malls in and of themselves are not a bad thing. It is the very reason for their existence, the position they hold in society, and the further effect they have had upon that society that is problematic. Maybe it's a loss of a sense of purpose that comes with further alienation from the natural world? Whatever it is, humanity cannot sustain its current attitude towards itself and its environment much longer.

Lions and Tiger and Bears, O MY!!!

The correlation that Kowinski draws between the shopping mall and the stage of a theatrical production provides a very interesting view of what our retail world has progressed to in the past century. Just as the Broadway musical acts as an escape from the fast paced culture of New York City, the Mall offers a very similar affect. The lights go down, the music roars, the actors begin to dance, and suddenly you are taken away to a different world. Although the retail stage is not exciting in the same sense that a musical or drama production is, the mall can captivate you in ways that similarly drag you away and induce you into a fiasco of consumerism. As you enter the property you are drawn into the mundane procession of parking lot traffic that acts as your last relationship with the outside world and almost acts as a reminder to the more or less normalcy that your day to day routine encompasses. As you part you car and walk toward the entry you may feel a sense of excitement that is comparable to the fantasy reading or movie. The mystery that lies behind the door of the main promenade can leave you in suspense…What new electronic toy may I find, what pair of new shoes could I buy, or what friends will I run into? These all play a part in what Kowinski and the retail industry refer to as “The Retail Drama.” This theory of creating an atmosphere or “drama,” that induces the customer to lose touch with the reality of the outside world, can be seen in all malls and in all scales. In his primary example of the Greengate Mall, what we can consider a normal mall of scale and target customer, Kowinski frames the importance of the Christmas season and depicts the implementation of “The Retail Drama” at its most basic scale…the decoration. However, we can see this concept being used on a more serious and more permanent scale in malls such as The West Edmonton Mall in Alberta, Canada. The design of this mall incorporates a retail drama with the use of numerous “themed” zones, including amusement parks, themed hotel stays, water rides, and much more. This idea creates a very dramatic affect within the space, where the customer can experience feelings similar to riding a roller coaster at their favorite amusement park, paired with their enjoyment of shopping…and ultimately forget that they are spending hard earned money in the process.

A Distant Center

What’s a mall with no center? Does the volume of information emanating from the hub distort its responsibility as an agent of re-centering? Is the location of the center really a means of reorientation, or have we simply become so accustomed to the paradigm of the cruciform mall that we are unable to associate that kind of center with anything but, perhaps, the food court? More and more, a mall’s center is capable, through carefully-aimed visual, olfactory, and auditory barrage, of doing far more harm than it does good with regard to its responsibility to re-center on a cosmic level. Sure, the shape itself implies a kind of order and rightness, but what happens when we are unable to physically occupy the center of an atrium space – on an upper level, for example, all we can do is observe the contents of the center. The only remaining central space to occupy is the ground floor, which, for most of the year, is annexed by the mall in an attempt to create a new focal point – not the nothingness or sacred space as such a sublime form might dictate, but a spot for BIG THINGS – the space of the mall, once held as sacred by Gruen and only experienced when the need for things was strangely absent (after Southdale had closed its doors for the night), has been undermined in favor of giant Christmas trees and dangling gift boxes. The center has become, well, the only place to fit the Christmas tree.

Malls, the Pied Piper of False Worship

Both authors of the readings this week seem to feel a profound attachment to the ‘beautiful’ side of the mall. Kowinski seems to reserve his sense of ‘community’ for malls designed by Viktor Gruen, while Zepp seems to find beauty in even the most banal mall, finding beauty in elements that aren’t even necessarily true, like symmetry.

Kowinski’s descriptions of the mall--in themselves--are beautiful, but like his own stage analogy of using ‘darkness to hide all distractions and light to focus audience attention’, he seems only interested in representing those aspects of malls he sees to be positive. His stage analogy, for example, works insofar as a spectacle, but finds itself woefully misconceived when the intentions of a mall and a theater are considered. Yes, in the end, both are businesses, but many a theater are founded on the notion that they will only perform life-changing plays, plays that cut to the quick of human drama and nature and its most vulnerable. They are trying to make people consider the world and their lives on a deeper, fuller level. I am yet to see a mall that seemed to be doing anything more than trying to get me to be caught up in a glorious image of consumerism. Destiny USA, perhaps, is striving to do so with all of it’s green initiatives and experiential elements that truly seem to be trying to create ‘another world’, but many an argument has already been made that these fantasies are nothing more than a selling point for the environmentally conscious or thrill-seeking consumer. As Kowinski touches on in the second two articles, I feel that the most good that can be said about the creation of malls is they can serve as a social condenser to meet people and form relationships, even if those relationships are centered around materials. I concede based on a few quick google searches that the Victor Gruen malls seem to be more architecturally inspired and ultimately more ‘beautiful’ than standard malls, but they’re still malls. They’re there to sell you things, and the goals of many of those stores is to convince you to buy things you not only never knew existed, but that these things are the answer to making your life ‘happier’. To quote Kurt Vonnegut in Cat’s Cradle: “Americans are always looking for love in places it doesn’t manifest.” Isn’t there something wrong with glorifying a love of consumption?

Zepp doesn’t seem to think so. He seems to just accept it as the condition of modern society. The mall is where people now go to find ‘centeredness’. I admit that at first I found Zepp relating the experience of a mall to all traditional forms of religion and spirituality absolutely hilarious, but as I read on a began to realize that they’re pretty accurate, at least as far as America is concerned. Humans have an innate desire to worship, and they’ll find it wherever it makes sense to them. The American mentality has made worshipping consumerism make sense.

This idea rings more true particularly to me as I’ve been working on Set Design for a play at the stage called ‘Equus’, by Peter Schaffer, which just so happens to be all about misplaced worship (and opens this coming weekend). When we first meet the main character, Alan, a rather mentally deranged boy of 17, all he says (or rather sings) is commercial jingles. The first worship in his life was television, and the ‘catchy tunes’ made him love to be a consumer if for no other reason because he loved their product’s theme songs. When his father took his TV away trying to explain it was ruining his mind, his mother introduced another form of worship in the form of religion. When his father took that away due to the violence inherent in that, he invents his own worship in a twisted religion of horses. In the end he stabs out the eyes of four of them but the point is that worship is a natural part of being human, and inevitably people will worship what ends up making the most sense to them to worship. Because all forms of media (and even our friends) can often give off an image that ‘products’ are what can make life enjoyable, that is what we find ‘making sense’ to us. Everyone we know can’t be wrong…can they?

The disconnected source

If galleries separated the automobile from shopping, enclosed shopping centers separated everything else. The enclosed shopping center became its “own world, pulled out of time and space” (Kowinski 60). These centers or theaters, depending on Ira Zepp or William Kowinski, not only cared about themselves but ignored everything around them. As this ideas shifted, the focus became how to make “it” as great as possible. If that meant 25,000 yards of ribbon, 850 pounds of scattered snow and $70,000 later then so be it. The underlying issue here is how these enclosed, protected and controlled centers became less of a place to shop and more of a place to discover “a source of power” and “recharge human energy” (Zepp 37).

These artificial introverted environments became magnets and “special places to regain our identity and to be reconnected” (Zepp 38). The real question is how did they become these special places? I think the radical shift to suburbia chaos on all levels. Convention lost its meaning and people and shopping developers alike were looking for some sense of order and organized. Shopping centers were always a place of organization and the enclosure aspect enabled this organization to occur 24/7/365. These places were organized so much that even the Christmas decorated had blueprints so they could be repeated every year.

There is one problem which these centers. They created order and a sense of community but the experience is on a strictly individual level. When a person walks into this source of power they feel part of something bigger but never fully engage it, they simply observe it. So when I said enclosed shopping centers separated everything else that included an engaged active experience.

Crisis of Meaning?

Kowinsksi gives us the mall experience as a first hand opinion editorial, reflection is balanced with expository information which results in a more tangible and coherent wholeness to the article and the subject of the mall. The majority of the other writings are relatively less embedded by voice and serve as a force to join the puzzling origins and evolution of retail space. The reading allows for the formation of more complete identities to attach to the characters involved in the mall management. Although containing less raw information than other pieces from the syllabus, this one allows a deeper understanding of the idea of experience, an increasingly necessary element within the retail management realm. Kowinski himself appears as ambiguous character, flaneur, writer, social satirist, and is not quick in the determination of a theory for the mall. The piece is more like Zola, the author winds us through a variety of spaces, into and out of the public realm, we gain a first hand understanding of the managerial tasks and personalities which dominate the spectacle. Less time is spent understanding the subjectivity of the mall visitor, perhaps because we have all played this roll and have been party to its depiction.

It was particularly telling to me when within the first article Kowinski presents malls Westmoreland and Greengate in opposition. As might be expected the opposition quickly crumbles and the distinction blurs. Although the tenant mix serves as temporary divide in the understanding of these places, the two malls fundamentally mean the same thing. The mall is the victim, itself victimizing and dangerous. It suffers a crisis of identity and placelessness. If we consider the mall as architecture, it has long been stripped or in search of an identity, a thing it has continuously failed to achieve in meaningful ways. Is the idea of identity itself archaic, moot? Dana Cuff remarked on the nature of societal niching in San Jose, where “everyone has several identities”; the white collars working in the business district living the extended lunch break life of adventurers in the Sierras. A condition as socio-economically restricted as the mall, yet the mall is an incredible source of homogenizing cultural forces where identity is created and nurtured en masse. Everyone receives about the same empty script of meaning in and through malls. Nothing attempts to locate us in physical space; ubiquitous, identical means of circulation, familiar conglomerated retailers, circuitous ambulatory patterns have an impoverished little to say about the human condition, and our identities both collective and individual. Forever cast in the drama of the mall, we must pretend in order to accept and live within the mall’s empty reality of show.