The city that might have been - unbuilt San Francisco

I wonder what would have happened if…? The question of how our lives would have turned out if we had made a different decision somewhere along the way is one that we have all debated in the small hours when, unable to sleep, we muse on what might have been. Even the smallest happenstance, like the butterfly whose wingbeats start an earthquake on the other side of the world, can have an impact on our lives. It is a phenomenon that was brilliantly explored in the film Sliding Doors, which chronicles the two possible routes of Gwyneth Paltrow’s character’s life, one where she caught a Tube train and one where she didn’t. A split second made the difference between change, happiness and success or misery and failure. That was a case of chance, but there are times when our fate is in our hands. It was the fear of waking up in 10 years’ time and realizing I was still doing the same thing in the same place that made me leave my beloved job at Country Life magazine to travel the world and write – leaving behind certainty and security for excitement and insecurity. I knew that I would only regret it if I didn’t do it and spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if?'.

Happy days: a Country Life staff outing

The question of what might have been works very well in fiction, as in Robert Harris’s compelling study of a world in which Hitler won the Second World War in Fatherland. In real life, unrealized plans for cities or landscapes tend to be forgotten, buried together with unpleasant planning applications at the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying 'beware of the leopard'. Now, the California Historical Society on Mission is remedying this in an elegantly presented exhibition, ‘Unbuilt San Francisco: the view from futures past’ (until December 29). The most shocking section examines how the wild, windswept hills of the Marin County, just north of the city, were threatened with the worst of 1960s tower blocks and well-intentioned but horribly misguided ‘open-space architecture’ in a ‘bedroom city’ for 30,000 people. Enormous local opposition prevented all but the grandiose entrance arch of ‘Marincello’ being built and the area was saved for posterity in 1981 with the creation of the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy, remaining a haven for wildlife and walkers, fog-bound and mysterious one minute, open and sun-baked the next. Can you imagine how the views below would look if the hills were crowned with concrete? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

The Golden Gate Bridge across the trees of the Presidio, 

with the hills of the Marin, blissfully bare, behind

The Marin hills seen from the San Francisco Maritime park

One San Franciscan landmark was damaged so badly by the 1960s blight that it needed an earthquake to save it. An iconic symbol of the city since it opened in 1898, the Ferry Building’s position in the hearts of San Franciscans was cemented after the 1906 earthquake and subsequent devastating fires, when it stood undamaged above the smoke, a beacon of hope for the thousands who lost their homes. In its heyday, only Charing Cross Station in London saw more passengers pass through its portals, as ferries and steamers from Oakland, Sausalito and far-off lands across the Pacific Ocean discharged their travellers.

The Ferry Building after the 1906 earthquake, on one of the

stylish information boards that proliferate on the Embarcadero

Full of life, commerce and travel: the Ferry Building in its heyday

Yet, for some reason, the city has always struggled to know how to best showcase its Classical beauty, visible for miles down the wide thoroughfare of Market. The area in front of it was once a bustling terminal for cable cars and carriages, chockful with street traders and colourful advertisements, but, as the car took over and the bridges reduced the number of ferries, its importance was diminished. The final ignominy that came in the 1960s was the eyesore of a raised freeway that cut it off from the city with concrete and fumes and encouraged the Californian gods to bring the earthquake of 1989. By far the best outcome of the quake was that the freeway was so weakened that its demolition was necessary. 

Standing proud: the Ferry Building of the Port of San Francisco

However, the lack of a celebratory setting for the Ferry Building isn't for want of trying. As the exhibition reveals, many grand ideas have been proposed over the years. In Ferry Building Peristyle of 1897, Willis Polk envisaged curving Ionic colonnades culminating in a triumphal arch that turned the area into an echo of St Peter’s Square in Rome, and Embarcadero Crescent View reveals Ernest Born’s 1950s scheme for the whole of the waterfront all the way to Fort Mason, with areas for sports, the Arts, business and shopping. An 18ft-high sculpture of a foot by Buster Simpson was even considered. But none of them was ever realised, and the Embarcadero still has its shabby elements, huge old piers that stretch out into the Bay, reminders of when the waterfront thronged with goods and men from all over the world. Parts are enjoying a revival, the magnificent Exploratorium science museum at Pier 15 being a highlight, but the whole lacks a coherent vision and is still partly cut off from the rest of the city by the road and F-line trams. The Ferry Building itself is almost lost against a backdrop of the Financial District skyscrapers, of which more are being built as I type. However, it is thriving, filled with busy cafes and shops, with a superb farmer’s market every week, and there is still a frisson of excitement to be had when disembarking one of the Blue and Gold ferries after a trip to the Golden Gate Bridge or San Rafael. I wonder what grand plan the city fathers will come up with next?

Can you spot it? The Ferry Building no longer stands out on the skyline

The exhibition looks also at the Yerba Buena area of downtown San Francisco, with designs and models for museums and galleries that were never built, including an attractive proposal by women-owned firm Simon Martin-Vegue Winkelstein Moris for the San Francisco Ballet when it needed a new home in the 1990s. Unfortunately, it proved unaffordable, but there is solace here in that the Yerba Buena Gardens are today a pleasing and popular combination of public parkland and buildings, with the Museum of Modern Art to the east, the astonishing Contemporary Jewish Museum to the north and the Metreon shopping centre to the west, resplendent in neon. The area has preserved the past, too, with the 19th-century St Patrick's Church and an historic carousel, currently being restored.

The Contemporary Jewish Museum, designed by Daniel Libeskind

The 19th-century Catholic St Patrick's Church, incongruous amid the skyscrapers

Altogether, the exhibition is an intriguing examination of what might have been, and one that would be worth imitating in other cities. I wonder what disastrous schemes have been averted in London or what magnificent dreams have remained just that? One should try to look forward and seek to advance the future, but we can always learn from the past and, sometimes, a look back can be profitable - not to mention fascinating.