2 posts tagged “pedagogy”

This post will conclude the paper I wrote after the initial phase of my research at the Columbus North Market. My research is by no means done, in fact this paper really only serves to highlight a few areas where future research is necessary. I will continue my fieldwork this quarter and continue to report as I go.

Pedagogy of the Market

Linking Past to Present: “Presenting” the History of the North Market

One of my first observations is the series of framed signs along the east wall that provide a historical account of the market’s existence. Beginning in the 1800s, each sign accounts for a period of time highlighting the role of the North Market in Columbus’ development from frontier town to Midwestern metropolis. Toward the latter end of the historical narrative is a discussion of the declining role of the market and its subsequent revitalization. Integral to this historical revival is the North Market Development Authority, which leases the market property from the city and, in turn, leases space to the numerous vendors.

Whereas the market had once been fully public space, it has, like many other spaces, become privatized in order to maintain viability.[1] Generally, it seems as if this privatization has been a good thing – the market still exists. However, the historical account provided by the market tells the story of inevitable and beneficent privatization. No conflict is highlighted in the account; it is presented as a common sense solution to a market that was once struggling within a changing urban environment. Indeed, the signs appear to be intended to tie the current iteration of the market to an idealized past where the market served as a major focal point for public gathering in Columbus. This “presenting” of the past aids in marketing efforts.

Providing a historical narrative that locates the contemporary market within a tradition that is highly populist and deeply nostalgic (two things Americans seemingly cannot live without) helps realize the North Market as hyperreal space.[2] Eco points to Disney Land as the ultimate hyperreal space. Where “real” pirates rub up against “real” American Main Street, Disney is completely imaginary, while being thoroughly real. He notes, “The American imagination demands the real thing, and, to attain it, must fabricate the absolute fake.”[3] It is in these hyperreal spaces where the copy becomes more real than the original itself. Tying the contemporary market to the markets of the past is an attempt to provide an air of authenticity, which attracts American consumers. However, this process also marks out the market as a kind of exceptional space: one that is rare, valuable for the public good, and historic in such a way as to obligate citizen consumers to utilize the space in particular ways.

Educating About Cheese: Buying and Selling at the Market

I am wandering the market without any particular agenda today. I am still trying to get a sense of how people move through the space, interact with one another and the merchants. I skirt around a knot of people talking animatedly to one another near the foot of the stairway that leads to the balcony seating area. After ducking under an arm thrown outwards to emphasize some point, – “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Don’t worry about it, I survived, I reply with a laugh – I find myself in front of a counter filled with cheeses. The deli case I almost ran headfirst into is stickered with numerous signs with typed descriptions of certain cheeses. The signs note the name of the cheese, provide the country and region of origin, and describe the taste, texture, and smell. Often there is a suggestion for what wine or other foods should be served with the cheese. Intrigued, I approach the counter.

After looking into the case for a few moments a woman in an apron approaches me from behind the counter. Her nametag reads “Sue.”[4] She appears to be in her late 50s or early 60s. She is wearing hornrimmed glasses, her hair reaches her chin and is salt and pepper colored, mostly salt. She smiles.

“How can I help you?” Hi, I’m looking to try something new. I like parmesan, pecorino, and softer cheeses but I don’t remember their names. I don’t really like bleu cheese or brie. What do you recommend, maybe a goat or sheep cheese?

Sue’s face brightens, her tone of voice carries enthusiasm. It is clear that she enjoys talking about her product. She asks a few more questions.

“Do you like soft cheeses?” Yes.

She reaches into the case.

“This is our most popular cheese. It’s a French cheese, made from cow’s milk called St. Nectaire. Would you like to try it?” I’d love to.

She cuts a thin slice from it with an enormous knife (I was amazed at her ability to wield it at all, let alone so deftly), places the cheese onto a piece of wax paper, and hands it to me. I sniff at the thin slice, then ask,

Do I eat the rind? “If you like. You don’t have to.”

I pop the cheese into my mouth. It is delicious. I ask for a small wedge to take home.  Like a good salesperson Sue asks me if I would like to try another.

“I have another cheese in mind for you. You said you like pecorino, was that Tuscano or Romano?? Pecorino Toscano.  I ate it often when I lived in Florence. “Oh good, you’ll love this, it’s the Romano.

She cuts another slice with the comically large knife. I order another wedge to take home with me.

After the buying and selling is over, I inquire about the signs in the deli case window. Sue informs me that they are a benefit to the business. Even though every cheese is not described in the window signs, they are enough to both attract attention (most people will read at least one or two signs, even if they do not buy anything) and entice people to buy. Sue shares that 30 to 50 per cent of customers are returning customers, depending on the season. So, anywhere from 50 to 70 per cent are new customers, and many of those people, she notes, are drawn in by the signs. When pressed further she comments on the notion that she, along with many of the vendors at the market, try to educate their customers about their product. This creates an ethos of connoisseurship at the market, with a gastronomically educated clientele with whom the vendors can engage. I suspect this serves at least two purposes. First, many of the vendors are enthusiasts and like most enthusiasts love to share their interests with others. Second, it appears that an ethos of gastronomic connoisseurship facilitates the seeking out of more esoteric foodstuffs, which seem to be fairly profitable for the vendors.

Unique challenges face the produce vendors, including Curds and Whey. As the historical account of the North Market shows, the market experienced a decline in consumer relevance and economic viability from the end of World War II through the 1970s. In order to counter this decline, the North Market Development Authority was created. Part of the group’s success has been tying the market’s operation to the surrounding Arena and Convention Center district, which meant that a number of the leased spaces went to prepared-food vendors. Currently, less than half of the stalls are dedicated to the buying and selling of produce, bulk goods, and other raw materials, which have historically been the hallmarks of public markets. This environment makes the “presenting” practices that seem to attract American consumers all the more important, but it also means the produce vendors have to work harder and harder to attract, educate, and retain consumers.

Learning Space: Private Consumption Versus Public Gathering

There are groups of people of varying numbers sitting at tables around the entire area. A student working with a laptop sits alone at one table. A group of four men sit at another talking loudly about the upcoming NFL Superbowl. A group of three middle-aged (around 45-50 by my estimation) women sit talking and laughing at yet another table. It is a useful space for eating the numerous food offerings from the first level. As a social space, however, it is a differentiating space. The physical limitations of the relatively narrow distance between wall and railing offer limited opportunity to congregate in large groups. Instead, the space is far friendlier to small groups, up to about 15 to 20 people if several tables are pushed together. Beyond that, however, it seems like it would become difficult to hold any sort of conversation as many in the group would not be able to see or hear others at the far end of the table.

According to a pamphlet I picked up on my initial tour of the market, the market has always been a site of gathering.

In 1876, the market was the only place for people to find all of life’s necessities. Things haven’t changed much. Throughout its history, the North Market has served most importantly as a meeting place. Although today’s North Market may look different from the original Market [sic] built in 1876, the purpose of the Market remains the same. It’s a place where people gather together, to shop, eat, mingle, and enjoy themselves.

It is clear that the North Market remains a place where people shop, eat, mingle, and possibly enjoy themselves. It is less clear, however, that the market retains its identity as a gathering space in any more meaningful sense. At a micro level, it is certain that people gather in the market. In my limited observations, I was able to identify numerous groups of people conducting business, talking, eating, and consuming. The longer I stayed, though, the more I realized that it would be difficult to gather on a larger scale.

The physical limitation of the upper floor and the obviously commercial use of space on the first level would hinder any large gathering, demonstration or protest, or other coordinated action. In a sense, the space is designed to keep private the gatherings in this ostensibly public space. Unarmed security guards and armed police officers patrolled the ground floor, asking people to keep at least a minimum amount of space open to keep foot traffic moving. However, at the stalls attracting a larger crowd, the requests were dropped, as the line was too long to move anywhere else. On the upper levels, the space facilitated long, narrow groupings, which can easily dictate the effectiveness of a speaker attempting to address a crowd. These practices and limitations diffuse gatherings on a large scale.

The main purpose of the North Market is clearly commercial. With this in mind, it becomes transparent that the market’s function as a meeting place is elided with the practice of conspicuous consumption. The produce, meat, and seafood vendors are local, organic, earth-friendly businesses. The majority of the vendors are local and regional franchises, with a majority being stand-alone, independent businesses. So, while the market serves to attract a fairly liberal, eco-friendly, activist-oriented crowd, a crowd perhaps more likely to value such a community-oriented space, the value of the North Market as a meeting place is undermined.