"A Shouting Match"
How Aesthetics Compete to Cheer on Gentrification in Jersey City
Zubin Rekhi
Sept 2023
Mural and photo by Greetings Tour
In 2016, Jersey City won the Curbed Cup, a contest for the best New York City Neighborhood—the first time a non-New York City neighborhood had ever won (Rosenberg). But despite being home to Instagrammable bars, restaurants, and apartments that upper-middle class New York City exiles seek out in increasingly large numbers, Jersey City remains a city still undergoing gentrification, as poorer residents are forced to leave the city in search of affordable housing. The poverty rate, for example, is 15.7%, above the national average of 12.8%, and for racial minorities such as Black and Hispanic people, the rate is 19.9% and 22.4% respectively (“Jersey City, NJ”). Jersey City, therefore, embodies the tale of two cities, as two narratives about the city compete with each other for supremacy, one about the up-and-coming, gentrifying city and the other about the poor residents struggling to live there and gradually being displaced. In this environment of competing narratives, aesthetics play an increasingly important role as partisans on the front lines of the conflict between the displacers and the displaced. In a gentrifying Jersey City operating under a neoliberal regime, I argue that the aesthetics of bars, condominiums, and other structures in the built environment compete for niches in the hopes of gaining the approval of newcomers to be saved from obsolescence and destruction. By doing so, they not only sustain but further a neoliberal regime that threatens to destroy built structures operating outside the regime.
In this paper, I use the definition of aesthetics that authors Christoph Lindner and George Sandoval use in the chapter “Introduction: Aesthetics of Gentrification” from Aesthetics of Gentrification: Seductive Spaces and Exclusive Communities in the Neoliberal City. Referencing Jacques Ranciere, Lindner and Sandoval regard aesthetics “as politics and comprising ‘forms of visibility that disclose artistic practices, the place they occupy, what they “do” and “make” from the standpoint of what is common to the community’” (15). Similar to an activist holding up a banner of protest disclosing their opinion on a topic of controversy, the aesthetics of bars, restaurants, condominiums, and other built structures in the urban environment of Jersey City are not just their design or theatrics but those visual elements that disclose the positions their proprietors take on gentrification. Like an activist attempting to garner the attention of sympathizers, the aesthetic niches for which built structures compete in Jersey City serve as a display of fealty to the newcomer class gentrifying the city in an attempt to gain their favor. In the neoliberal arena of the gentrifying city, those structures that do not display their aesthetic loyalty “loudly enough” are outcompeted by structures that do so, a fate that keeps existing structures constantly competing for newcomer sympathy. To prove how structures compete to “scream the loudest '' for garnering newcomer sympathy, I show how two structures, the Golden Cicada bar and the 99 Hudson condominium, successfully carved out niches where their “screams” were received warmly by newcomers.
The Golden Cicada bar carved its niche as an institution with an authentic aesthetic that signaled to newcomers that it bought into the logic of gentrification. The Golden Cicada is an iconic bar that has served Jersey City for over 30 years and is presided over by famed bartender Mr. Tan. While many other working-class institutions disappeared due to gentrification, the Golden Cicada remains extremely popular—albeit with a new crowd of gentrifiers that replaced its initially working-class customer base. The city’s mayor attributed this sustained popularity to Mr. Tan’s “unique character and feeling of authenticity” and the bar’s status as an “institution forever” (Adams). As such, the bar can be used as a case study into understanding how aesthetics, specifically authenticity, can be manipulated to appeal to the gentrifying class. In his article “Selling Authenticity: The Aesthetics of Design Boutiques in Montreal,” Guillaume Sirois defines authenticity as “inseparable from the question of place” in that authentic products are “not reproducing or importing cultural practices that are coming from elsewhere” (86). Thus, an authentic product is like a souvenir in that it serves as evidence that its owner truly visited or belonged to a certain place, rather than a counterfeited or imitated version of that place. For example, the patron of an “authentic” Chinese restaurant believes that the “authentic” restaurant experience she had is akin to Chinese food in China and therefore not an local American reproduction of the authentic Chinese dish. The value of an authentic product to its owner is that the product directly associates the patron with the place she wishes to be associated with, whether mainland China instead of New York in the context of “authentic Chinese cuisine” or Jersey City instead of the newcomers’ previous hometown in the context of the Golden Cicada.
The newcomer patron visiting the Golden Cicada goes to prove that she is a true resident of Jersey City. For example, the newcomer may engage in the ritual of “downing a $5 shot of the bar’s infamous baijiu, a fiery Chinese liquor made of sorghum” to be awarded “two Golden Cicada necklaces of red and black painted brass by Mr. Tan,” the famed bartender at the establishment (Adams). Using Sirois’s definition of authenticity, the “Golden Cicada necklaces” are inseparable from Jersey City because the unique bar ritual of being given “red and black painted brass” is reproduced at virtually no other bars. Even in similar bars with shot-downing rituals, the recipient does not receive the necklace from a Mr. Tan-like bartender, whose persona is, according to the city’s mayor, an institution in of itself and therefore unique to the city (Adams). The value of the sum of these unique-to-Jersey City components of the experience to the patron is thus to associate the patron with Jersey City. For the upper-middle class newcomer who may feel out of place in a city with much economic deprivation, the unique-to-Jersey City ritual of downing baijiu and receiving the necklace gives her a claim to being a member of the city, operating similar to a religious ceremony like a Catholic confirmation formalizing a newcomer’s entry into the Catholic Church. By formalizing tenuous claims of new membership to the city, not only does the Cicada deem new residents loyal to Jersey City but new residents also deem the Cicada as a welcoming organization loyal to their interests by cementing their status as true city residents. By providing itself as a measuring stick through which newcomers can prove that they are true Jersey City residents, the Golden Cicada lends itself as a loyal instrument of the newcomer class eager to prove their belonging to their city. Thus, because the Cicada’s aesthetics formalize claims of citizenship to the city among newcomers, the Cicada and its aesthetics “scream loudly” to gentrifiers that the bar is loyal to their interests and “on their side.” But authenticity is not the only way that aesthetics of buildings communicate their loyalty to Jersey City’s burgeoning population of gentrifiers.
Creating an aesthetic tailored to newcomers’ habits and values that contrasts with the supposedly decrepit habits associated with Jersey City natives is another method by which elements of Jersey City’s landscape indicate their pro-gentrification position. There is a precedent for the gentrified landscape signifying to newcomers that their bourgeois values are accommodated for. In the article “The Import of a Narrative: The Role of Aesthetics and Discursive Elements in Fabricating Change in the Centre of Sao Paulo,” Beatriz Kalichman, an associate researcher at the Metropolitan Observatory at Sao Paulo, and Beatriz Rufino, a lecturer at the University of Sao Paulo, point out how in formerly run-down neighborhoods in Sao Paulo, there was a “strong presence of the industrial aesthetic” in new development, which the authors contend “as being an echo of the gentrification process that took place in SoHo” (109). The authors argue that the industrial aesthetic of SoHo is used to “differentiate [studios/new development] from the quitinetes,” old apartments derided by the bourgeoisie (Kalichman and Rufino 103). Hearkening back to SoHo’s gentrification in the context of Sao Paulo not only signals to gentrifiers in Sao Paulo that the formerly decrepit areas are experiencing a real-estate boom that would let them receive economic benefits from moving there but also signals that the area now accommodates for their supposed values. The reference to the old apartments as the antithesis of bourgeois housing suggests that something deeper than economic deprivation, specifically a lack of values and habits intensely held by the bourgeois, activates bourgeois disgust.
Indeed, Kalichman and Rufino cite and apply in their article Max Weber’s idea that “‘the scientific basis for blight drew attention to the physical bodies inhabiting the city, as well as the unhygienic sanitary conditions those bodies ‘created’’” (100). The idea that mannerisms of the poor could create “unhygienic” conditions and are physically unclean suggests that the erasure and replacement of aesthetics associated with the poor—in Sao Paolo’s case, the quitinetes, and in Jersey City’s case, the horizontally-oriented row house neighborhood—could also replace “unclean” habits and values with “clean” ones amenable to the bourgeoisie’s purported values. This implies that aesthetics of buildings can convince the bourgeois of their pro-gentrification position through the erasing of values and habits supposedly associated with the poor and signposting to newcomers that their values mirror those intensely held by the bourgeoisie.
In Jersey City specifically, 99 Hudson is the archetype for a building whose purported values and habits welcome the bourgeoisie with open arms and affirm the erasure of values supposedly held by the poor. The building is a 75-story luxury condominium skyscraper with unfettered views of the Hudson River and the World Trade Center across the river. Listed among its private amenities that only its residents can use are a children’s playroom, described as a “curated space” that “kids and caregivers can enjoy…where energies and imaginations are actively engaged” and a health and wellness facility that “attends to bodies and souls” by offering wet and dry lounges, steam rooms, treatment and massage rooms, and spa terraces (“Amenities”). By offering these “life-enhancing amenities” to those that live in the building, 99 Hudson’s owners imply that these or similar amenities that can better the life of building residents are nowhere to be found in the vicinity of the building (“Amenities”). And by implicitly denying these amenities to surrounding communities, the building’s designers imply that the lifestyles of those living in the vicinity of the building cannot be enhanced by the amenities the building offers. The surrounding area’s native inhabitants are presumed to not value, and their habits are deemed incongruous to the education or wellness offered to building residents.
To the hyper-educated professional responsible for gentrifying this neighborhood, the building’s aesthetics affirm the common value of education that both the building and the gentrifier supposedly share and erases the need to reference the lack of childcare centers or the inadequate public schools in the vicinity. Jersey City public schools have an average math proficiency score of 19%, lower than the statewide average of 25%, and an average reading proficiency score that is also 6% lower than the statewide average—otherwise clear indicators to the gentrifying professional that native residents’ habits are diametrically opposed to education (“Top 10”). By offering childcare facilities only for use by building tenants, 99 Hudson shields its tenants from the “anti-education” habits that the gentrifying professional believes native residents espouse. Similarly, to the gentrifier who obsesses about her wellness, the array of amenities that “attends to bodies and souls” affirms the common emphasis on health that the gentrifier shares with the building and erases the need to reference the habits of native residents who live in nearby food deserts without fresh produce. That is of particular importance given a 2018 city report that defined much of Jersey City as a “food desert,” with over 33% of the population living more than a mile from the nearest supermarket with fresh produce available—otherwise an indicator to the health-conscious gentrifier that native residents do not value, or shape their habits around, their health (Baer). Thus, 99 Hudson both mirrors the purportedly shared values of the bourgeoisie and erases the “unclean” habits and values of the poor that exist nearby. By accommodating for bourgeois “values” and shielding the upper-class from coming into contact with the poor’s supposedly alternative set of values and habits, the aesthetics of 99 Hudson and other buildings like it tell the gentrifier that they are on the newcomer’s side and loyal to newcomer interests. In turn, it competes with the Cicada to cheer on the burgeoning gentrifying population in Jersey City.
These buildings compete to gain the bourgeoisie’s affection because they operate under a neoliberal regime, where their survival is predicated on serving the gentrifying class. Douglas Spencer writes in The Architecture of Neoliberalism that under a neoliberal framework, “the construction of the subject and the social order [is] akin to the operation of natural systems. The function of architecture prescribed by this position is that of producing endlessly flexible environments for infinitely adaptable subjects” (4). Viewing Jersey City as a natural system operating under the Social Darwinian notion of “survival of the fittest,” the dominant gentrifying class is like an apex predator replacing weaker species. This view assumes that the dominance of the gentrifying class is inevitable, and only natural, and therefore institutions native to and moving to Jersey City must adapt to serve the gentrifying class best. The notion of the ideal structure “producing endlessly flexible environments for infinitely adaptable subjects,” as an extension of neoliberalism, implies that the goal of a structure's aesthetics is to maximize its appeal to a maximum number of people. Assuming the “natural system” view that bourgeois dominance over the city is inevitable, it is impossible for an institution to achieve the goal of maximum appeal for a maximum number of people without serving bourgeois gentrifiers. Thus, structures that want to operate at the apex of a neoliberal regime must compete to find ways to tailor their offerings to bourgeoisie tastes better than others. This is why the Golden Cicada’s and 99 Hudson’s aesthetics try to display their allegiance to the bourgeoisie by carving out different niches so that their loyalty is unquestionable.
But by taking part in the neoliberal game, institutions like the Cicada only further ensure the dominance of the neoliberal regime that cruelly disposes of parts of Jersey City’s landscape associated with its working-class residents, and by extension blue collar residents themselves. Spencer argues that the freedom of choice neoliberalism is associated with is actually a mirage and that neoliberalism actually seeks control over its subjects. In his words, the “neoliberal form of power works to produce the subjects of its competitive market order through the milieu of the market itself, rather than through the direct and disciplinary administration of the state…The market exercises control of the subject—its processing, modeling, and constitution—through the immanent conditions of an entrepreneurial environment that is sustained by these same subjects” (2). The “invisible hand” rules with an iron fist: the market is a controlling, authoritarian allocator that controls the subject by forcing the subject to “[model] and [constitute]” itself according to the “entrepreneurial environment” where the subject is located, as opposed to how the subject would like to be modeled and constituted.
Any authoritarian system depends on the support of those that model their actions in accordance with the system even if they do not shape that system’s policy. In the case of Jersey City, any institutions that want to operate at the apex of the neoliberal regime and so “[model] and [constitute]” their aesthetics to gain the nascent bourgeoisie’s favor are similarly responsible for perpetuating the existence of the neoliberal regime itself. That’s because if some or all these institutions stopped acting in accordance with what the neoliberal regime dictates, the regime would weaken or fall apart. The costs of perpetuating this regime’s existence are only too real: in 2015, the city razed to the ground three subsidized housing buildings, meant to house the city’s poorest residents, to make way for more upscale residents (Sullivan). This trend continues as working-class housing stock that has not made a conscious effort to shape its aesthetics to display loyalty to newcomers often gets destroyed for operating outside the neoliberal framework.
Thus, empowered by the engine of neoliberalism, the aesthetics of Jersey City’s built structures compete for displays of loyalty to the gentrifying class. By doing so, these structures and institutions strengthen the existence of the neoliberal regime further and make it harder for those buildings not competing for the favor of the newcomer class to exist. Understanding the dangers of neoliberalism, whether in the form of aesthetic loyalty to the gentrifying class or through other mediums, is vital, especially as Jersey City’s municipal government is bent on pursuing “free market” strategies that threaten already vulnerable populations. The city currently subsidizes luxury developers, who need only build 15% of their units as affordable housing to qualify for local government subsidies on building market-rate, expensive apartments (Malone 46). As a result, despite the high rate of poverty in Jersey City, particularly among racial and ethnic minorities, the average rent price has soared to over $3800 (Beyer) and there are 17,000 new, mostly luxury, residential units being constructed (Nonko). Calling out the larger trends behind the “free-market” push to uproot long standing residents and their communities enables the development of more sustainable, inclusive growth strategies that allow both newcomers and longtime residents to flourish side by side.
Works Cited
Adams, Nathaniel. “The Death and Life of Jersey City.” The New York Times, 5 May 2017.
“Amenities.” 99 Hudson. 99hudsonliving.com/amenities.
Baer, Marilyn. “Biden Administration Selects Jersey City for Local Foods, Local Places Program.” Hudson Reporter. 9 June 2021.
Beyer, Scott. “Why Jersey City Is Becoming New York City’s 6th Borough.” Catalyst. 12 Oct. 2022.
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Kalichman, Beatriz, and Beatriz Rufino. “The Import of a Narrative: The Role of Aesthetics and Discursive Elements in Fabricating Change in the Centre of São Paulo.” Aesthetics of Gentrification: Seductive Spaces and Exclusive Communities in the Neoliberal City, Amsterdam UP, 2021, 91–112.
Lindner, Christoph, and Gerard Sandoval, editors. Aesthetics of Gentrification: Seductive Spaces and Exclusive Communities in the Neoliberal City. Amsterdam UP, 2021.
Malone, Donal. “Neoliberal Governance and Uneven Development in Jersey City.” Theory in Action, volume 10, issue 1, 2017, 32–64.
Nonko, Emily. “Jersey City Is Booming, but Gentrification Fears Loom Large.” Curbed NY. 5 May 2017.
Sirois, Guillaume. “Selling Authenticity: The Aesthetics of Design Boutiques in Montreal.” Aesthetics of Gentrification: Seductive Spaces and Exclusive Communities in the Neoliberal City, Amsterdam U, 2021, pp. 73–90.
Rosenberg, Zoe. “The 2016 Curbed Cup Winner Is… Jersey City!” Curbed NY. 3 Jan. 2017.
Spencer, Douglas. The Architecture of Neoliberalism: How Contemporary Architecture Became an Instrument of Control and Compliance. Bloomsbury Academic, 2016.
Sullivan, Al. “A Change in the Air.” Hudson Reporter. 6 Sept. 2015.
“Top 10 Best Jersey City, NJ Public Schools.” Public School Review. 2023.