West End Story

The West End’s southern boundary undulates along the well-groomed beaches of white sand, the logs washed-up during winter storms are obsessively aligned perpendicular to the shore. To the west is the world-famous Stanley Park. It owes its existence to the first official act of our City founders in 1886. The council’s incredible foresight cannot be underestimated as former Vancouver mayor Art Phillips jokingly points out that “at the time, Vancouver was surrounded by bush.” The arterials of Robson and Burrard Streets round out the north and east perimeter of the neighbourhood.

Proximity is one reason people love the West End. Rob Wynen is president of the West End Residents Association. He comments quite seriously that if he wanted, he could live on his block for the rest of his life and still be able to access everything he needs. Most residents are within a five-minute walk of grocery stores, liquor stores, restaurants, video stores, sporting good rentals and specialty shops. Moreover, a large percentage of residents work in the nearby central business district.

The West End is a neighbourhood of centres focused on the commercial areas of Robson, Denman and Davie Streets. Geography plays a part in creating proximity to services due to the West End’s location on a constricted peninsula. However, according to urban design specialist Lewis Villegas, there are some physical design aspects which make the West End unique.

The U-shaped commercial spine along Robson, Denman and Davie Streets is a result of streetcar lines built in the late 1800s. The two and three-story retail stores that line the streets serve the residents as they did one hundred years ago. Neil Robertson, who moved to the West End in 1980, once counted the number of eating establishments on Denman Street. Along the eight blocks from Georgia to Davie Streets he found a surprising 89. Just outside of the West End are the nightclub and theatre/cultural districts. As another resident highlights, “if it’s not in the West End, it’s close by.”

The West End’s population swells by tens of thousands during the summer as lower mainland residents and tourists come to enjoy the amenities. Every August, Vancouver’s two largest events are held in the West End. The Celebration of Light is a summer tradition. This international fireworks competition attracts over 1 million people to the beaches, parks and streets. Vancouver’s Gay Pride Parade is the main event of an annual week-long celebration of gay pride. The spectacle attracts visitors the world over, bringing over 100 000 spectators. These events play out within the remarkable natural setting of the neighbourhood.

Access to the beach, water and trees is integral to how “West Enders” connect to nature, to the city and to themselves. These natural amenities are places for socializing, relaxation and contemplation. When the sun breaks, people learning to rollerblade set out tentatively on the seawall alongside cyclists, joggers, walkers and dog owners. On grey, rainy days, lonely souls walk the seawall. One resident who is a frequent jogger views Stanley Park as both a gym and a church. For him, it offers tranquility and a personal relationship with nature.

David Webber is typical of the young gay men who call the West End home. Some of my friends refer to him as “funny Dave,” though he prefers “hot Dave.” His most memorable experience here occurred after moving from Calgary in November of 1999. “I remember going to the beach for the first time, on the first clear and sunny day in the middle of December. Having never really seen the ocean before, I just sat there and gazed. The clouds lifted and it was like, here is your new life.”

I too have a close relationship with the West End. For me it is the nexus of the urban and the natural. English Bay is where I go to ground myself, and to relax. Each change of the seasons brings a different ambience and a different experience. Summer is my favourite as the bronzed bodies come out and lie in the soft, white sand. The fall changes the colour of the trees from green, to red, to rust, to brown. In the winter, snow dusts the peaks of the North Shore mountains. I especially love those stormy days when the wind howls and the cold stings my face. Few people brave the seawall on such days. It is empty and desolate. The waves pound the coarse, stone faced walls, rising vertically before descending and crashing in a foamy brine on the pavement. One of my favourite places in Vancouver is the beach at night. There, alone, I can collect my thoughts, ponder my fears, and consider my hopes and my dreams.

Lewis believes the places and spaces we enjoy are not by accident. For example, the small park at the foot of Davie and Denman Streets, is he explains, one of Vancouver’s lost “urban rooms.” Imagine your favourite room in your home and take it outside. This is an urban room. The park is a triangular space framed on two sides with buildings and the third side faces the beachfront. As we look out towards English Bay, Lewis announces, “this is unlike any space in Vancouver. It is where the best show in the city happens every night … the sunset.” I understand and nod in agreement.

People come to the West End for its proximity to services and the natural environment, but for many it is the sense of community that holds them here. For those seeking a chance to begin anew or an opportunity to redefine themselves, the West End provides such a place.

Typifying the experience of many is former city councillor Gordon Price. He related his story in the library of his condominium surrounded by an enviable collection of books on cities, western civilization and urban planning. In 1978, he had just come out as a gay man. When you were gay and coming out in western Canada, the West End is where you went. By Gordon’s account, “the West End was really one of those extraordinary communities which you found in most cosmopolitan cities. It was an early example of young people coming to a place that was more accepting of diversity and different lifestyles. There was a sense of liberation. People could be themselves and openly express their identities on numerous stages: beaches, restaurants, clubs and Davie Street. It was our territory.”

Today, young men such as David are still attracted to the area because of the gay community. He appreciates other neighbourhoods, but feels they lack the same sense of community. He finds it is easy to build a life in the West End.

We have a standing joke that David never gets off “The Island” because he, like so many, finds few reasons to leave the West End. I swear just to prove me wrong, he glibly announces, “I went to Metrotown the other day. It’s big, it’s got a lot of stores ... two Taco Bells.” We both laugh. David professes a need to leave the area only occasionally, especially to visit Kits beach during the summer. Besides, he has to get his “passport stamped” once in awhile.

For Rose Greenwood, a student at Simon Fraser University, the West End is the first place that has felt like home to her, and calls it a “city within a city.” She appreciates the unique sub-communities of her neighbourhood. There are the “dumpster divers” who survive by scrounging in garbage bins and selling their wares at impromptu sidewalk sales on the local streets. Another group empties the contents of recycling bins in the area. Resenting the NIMBY (Not In My Backyard) views of others, she sees them not as a nuisance, but as part of the community. Part of the attraction for Rose is that the West End is not just full of affluent people.

Rose’s sense of belonging in the West End is solidified by the unique experiences that seem to find her and characterize the neighbourhood. She was walking home one day in mid-summer, watching the sun going down when she heard a barbershop quartet. Curious, she walked up to the fire station and found 10 firemen standing outside singing. Another 50 or 60 people from the community had come out and were standing on the street listening.

As another example of local colour, Rose divulged the local secret of a restaurant which serves alcoholic drinks after 4 a.m. Just ask the server for a glass of “water.” Apparently, they will take care of you with a glass of white wine, and remain open until the last patron leaves.

Community is at the core of the West End experience. Residents see people they know and recognize over the years on the streets, at the gym, the store and the coffee house. According to statistics on the City of Vancouver website, the West End is a North American anomaly. Located near the central business district, over 63% of West End residents walk, bike or take transit to work. Niel proudly announces that his car sits in the garage and accumulates a mere 7 000 kilometres a year. Residents can go about their life without a car, and further, walking strengthens the sense of community due to the chance encounters and meetings on streets between individuals.

The walkable nature of the West End is due to the interconnectedness of the original street grid laid down by the C.P.R. In contrast to the contemporary curvilinear and cul-de-sac street, this pattern offers innumerable choices for pedestrians to access services and amenities.

Not only convenient, Lewis points out that the streets are pleasant to walk along with a wonderful green canopy of trees creating a sense of enclosure. The importance of street trees is described in Allan B. Jacobs’ book Great Streets. He prescribes such a canopy is created by spacing trees on twenty-thirty foot centres. While residents are not necessarily aware of this calculated spacing of the trees, they do feel the effects. One resident observed that “when the trees run out, I know I’m out of the West End.”

Venturing on to the side streets, it is surprisingly quiet. The narrow streets force cars to slow down and traffic calming measures deter all but local vehicles The streets are pedestrian friendly, without uninviting empty spaces, an abundance of shrubs and buildings set close in to the street.

Lewis points out the pedestrian scale of the commercial streets too. If you look at each one as a cross-section, you will see it is a stepped design. On each side of the street are the two-three storied buildings containing shops and services. Behind those are the mid-rise and high-rise buildings. It is a classic planning technique that developed organically here and is employed elsewhere in the city. In Lewis’ words, “planning without urban design principles is bad planning.”

Walking in the West End you can “read” the growth and change of the city, like rings on a tree. The architectural layers are clearly evident: wooden mansions and houses, streetcar apartment buildings, eclectic 1920s apartments, apartments from the 1940s-50s, three-storey walk-ups, the first high-rises, and contemporary condominiums. Each style reflects the economic circumstances of the time and the exploitation of a lucrative market by developers, as well as a succession of civic policies.

In 1928, for example, City policy disallowed housing construction in the central business district. This was later rescinded. In the 1950s, zoning changes permitted high rises to be constructed in a neighbourhood where little change was evident since the 1930s. The height of buildings was again restricted in the 1970s. Traffic diversions were installed in the 1980s and West End streets were no longer considered purely as traffic conduits.

Clearly, numerous forces have played a part in the West End’s development at various scales and times. All left an imprint. The result is in the fine-grained mix of buildings evident in the area today. Today the West End’s physical character is viewed positively, however, this was not always its reputation. In the 1970s, there was a sense that the West End was ruined, that it was a concrete jungle, and that development of this type should never happen again.

In 1973, Donald Gutstein wrote a scathing indictment of the West End: “with so many people being packed together into too many one bedroom apartments, a whole host of problems have appeared. Children, families, the poor, those on fixed incomes, being forced out of the area, noise, air and traffic pollution, alienation and loneliness in the midst of thousands of people, high crime and suicide rates, and a lack of community spirit.” Once viewed as a neighbourhood in social decay, today other metropolises attempt to replicate the outcome. However, even today, the West End is not a neighbourhood without its issues.

Recent newspaper headlines suggest the West End is in trouble: “West End Haven Now Petty-Crime Hell” and “West End Fencing in, Moving Out to Escape ‘Nightmare.’” Rob denounces this perception and counters that over the last two years crime is lower and property theft is down 30% in the West End. He believes that crime is lower here than in other neighbourhoods. Neil tells me that his building on Beach Avenue near Denman Street has endured only one break-in in 50 years, but hastens to add that the owner left the door open. John Lucas, Director of Gordon Neighbourhood House agrees, noting that all places have their problems. He lives in Kerrisdale, an exclusive west side neighbourhood and his home has been broken into twice. The West End has its issues, but it is a healthy community with a diversity that people love.

Housing affordability is another concern. In 1980 Niel paid $262 a month for a small 400 square foot apartment in the West End. Five years ago, he met a young woman who lives in the same building and paid $700 a month. He estimates that today the rent in likely around $1000 a month. David spent three weeks searching for a place when he first moved to the West End because the competition is tough and landlords are often judgemental as they have their pick of tenants. However, many rental signs are sprouting in the area, likely because False Creek, Yaletown and Coal Harbour developments are drawing wealthy residents away.

At the same time the numbers of homeless people on West End streets is growing. The decline of the social safety net has left many people without options. Some come to the neighbourhood to avoid the fleabag hotels and drug scene of Downtown Eastside. Some are youth involved in prostitution and drugs, or come for “the action” relative to the quiet suburbs. Some discover it is easier to beg with so many people on the streets, and others for the resources available to the down and out. Many get lost in the crowd. Residents wonder, if the homeless leave, where will they go, what will they do?
As the Lower Mainland’s playground there is some sense that people from outside of the West End come in, “wreck the place, and go home.” The experiences of the Stanley Cup riot, and post firework troubles are relived in the minds of residents. Residents love the area and simply wish that it were treated more respectfully.

Stereotypes and misconceptions about the West End abound. David points out that, “when you say West End, the average person thinks of the gay community. It’s really interesting in that there really isn’t a lot of advertising for it and other than Gaymart and those [rainbow] banners on the street how would you know? You wouldn’t. It has a reputation since ‘the gays’ took it over. We were like, it’s pretty, there’s a beach, and we want it. We’ll dress it up and bring our little dogs.” Joking aside, the West End is much more than a gay ghetto.

Realizing the merits of urban living, families continue moving into the West End. Contemporary families are smaller, they require less space and parents have grown tired of long commutes to the suburbs. Here, in contrast to the suburbs, kids are exposed to a more heterogeneous mix of individuals and lifestyles. This, in Rob’s mind, can only enrich a child’s experience, and since children and family community programs are full with waitlists, one can only assume others are of the same opinion. I applaud his decision to raise his son Evan in such an environment and not shield him from the realities of life. Contrary to what some may believe, living in an urban environment may be of benefit to children.

Rob loves telling the story of two different groups of school children in Vancouver who were asked to draw their trip from home to school from memory. In the suburbs, kids are typically driven to school in cars, while in the urban core walking with parents is more prevalent. Kids walking to school drew very detailed drawings of birds, puddles and bushes. The suburban kids drew straight lines, and indicated directions to turn right or left here, and that was it. Kids living downtown have a much different perspective of their surroundings and community. This is one of the reasons he and his partner decided to raise their child in the West End.

In a world of instant neighbourhoods, the gleaming towers of False Creek and Coal Harbour seem to drop from the sky as if placed by a giant hand from an enormous blueprint. The West End’s story is one that is more organic and incremental, a combination of physical geography, proximity, community and design. The various factors at play producing what we see today would take another 100 years to create, if at all possible.

My local coffee house is only 800 metres away from my home. My favourite coffee house draws me some 14 kilometres and 45 minutes by transit from my door.

From my comfy green chair I watch the business people in power-suits head to their corporate offices, the well-dressed international language students on their way to class, the gay men in trendy outfits and hair carefully gelled according to some latest fashion, and street kids in jeans and piercings seeking the pocket change of passers-by.
In some manner, all the elements add to the eclectic milieu of the West End. Each supports the vibrant neighbourhood we see today. My home is in suburban north Burnaby, but I come to the West End to live Vancouver’s true urban experience.
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