Title IX: An Anti-Sports Bar Sports Bar
By Lindsay Harkema
Picture a typical sports bar - it’s a dim space with an overabundance of dark lacquered wood, vinyl upholstery, and TV screens. Team jerseys and pennants adorn the walls and the floors are likely a little sticky. Older bars boast autographed athlete photographs, newer ones have more sophisticated AV setups. It’s not, perhaps, the first choice project for most architects.
Now consider what is being aired on the TV screens - most likely men’s football, basketball, baseball, or soccer. Like most, this generic sports bar caters to a specific cisgender male population, reflecting a male-centric notion of sports. Womxn and womxn’s sports are currently at best an afterthought. To imagine an alternative - a womxn-oriented sports bar - is an act of subversion, questioning the androcentric value systems in place that perpetuate such norms. A space for womxn in the context of a territory dominated by men is a space of exception.
Spaces of exception emerge from strategic deviations within a context - examples include foreign embassies that are legally distinct from their local jurisdiction, privately owned public spaces founded from a seemingly paradoxical hybrid of public and private interests, or gender inclusive restrooms that defy outdated binary gender norms simply by accommodating everyone. These spaces hold open a territory that defies contextual absolutes - gray areas that evade categorical black-and-white distinctions. Their existence inherently questions the value systems in place around them, even as they are a product of those systems.
As an architect and academic, my work is focused on spaces of exception because of their capacity to reveal the shortcomings of an established order and to resist norms and challenge static assumptions about the world. At their best, spaces of exception heighten our awareness of such conditions and present opportunities for subversion. As a mode of design practice, subversion refers to a questioning of the context of the work, the systems in place related to dominant social orders and structures of power. More than a simple disruption of those norms, subversive acts require a meaningful understanding of this context and an inherent critique of it. Out of this critique, alternative strategies are formed and developed as spaces of exception from the surrounding norms.
This is my design process, as well as my approach to architectural practice. The name of my studio and design collective, WIP, is a play on the common acronym used to denote “Work In Progress”, but also stands for “Women In Practice”. Both interpretations push back against the norms of conventional (male-centric) architectural practice, which is fixated on established firm identities and singular authorship (hero architects). As an exception to this, WIP is founded on feminist principles of equity, shared creation, nurturing and mutual support, and a valuing of the pliancy of an in-process work.
A precedent for this kind of collaborative community model can be found in women’s sports. As a former and still occasionally competitive runner, long-distance training and architectural design processes have always been complementary in my mind. Both are readily enabled by the support of a team or peer group working together. The training habits of elite long-distance runner Shalane Flanagan, American record-holder at multiple distances, Olympic medalist, and winner of the 2017 NYC Marathon, are a powerful example of this. In the field of elite runners, she’s seen as a role-model and an enabler of her peers, all of whom have also achieved elite career successes while training with Shalane. After her NYC marathon victory, the New York Times described it as “the Shalane Effect: You serve as a rocket booster for the careers of the women who work alongside you, while catapulting forward yourself.” When I first read that article years ago it occurred to me that this kind of collaborative support network could exist in architecture as well, but it wasn’t until I began setting up an independent practice that I realized how much I needed it. As an alternative to the individualistic, competitive nature of the discipline, couldn’t we instead see our peers as enablers and all rise together? The success of a design practice could stem as much if not more from its ability to resist norms as from its novelty.
WIP’s first commissioned architectural design project is also a product of running. The client, a former college cross-country teammate of mine, is in the process of opening a womxn’s sports bar, called Title IX, in Brooklyn. The identity of Title IX will be built around the celebration of womxn’s sports and camaraderie and establish a space of exception within the context of normative sports bars as a space of empowerment of womxn. Title IX is a subversive response to and departure from the typical cisgender male-oriented sports bar. The owner, Mary Vaughan, comes from a career in the bar and restaurant industry, and is similarly critical of the norms of that industry. The intention to found an establishment on principles of equity and mindfulness is equally exceptional as the concept of a women’s sports bar. “The revelatory moment came in August 2018 when I wanted to watch Serena Williams play in the quarter finals of the US Open and had to ask that the channel be changed from an early season men’s basketball game to the match,” Mary has told me. Her recognition of the absence of women’s sports in the sports bar industry revealed an opportunity to subvert those norms and create something new, that will undoubtedly have widespread appeal.
Title IX will address the atypical population, womxn, whose identities are not reflected in the pervasive sports bar model. The space should feel light, bold, versatile, confident and soft. An anti-sports bar sports bar. As a social venue, it should be able to adapt for various kinds of communal activities - world cup viewing parties, post team run drinks, book club discussions, women’s business leadership meetings. It should be accessible, provide childcare amenities, and have a dynamic sensibility to adapt overtime. Once realized, Title IX bar will offer a productive space of exception, a new kind of venue based on values that resist everything that is typical and expected of that kind of venue, and critical of the broader established social order.
We are still in the schematic design phase, but already a key inspiration draws from past Olympics graphic identities and most significantly Deborah Sussman’s environmental design strategy for the 1984 games in Los Angeles. Her strategy was radical in its appropriation of the existing building and urban context, rather than the construction entirely new structures. The decision not to build a series of new stadiums and arenas for the games (which as evidenced by the fates of recent host cities, typically fall into disuse, disrepair, and bankruptcy shortly thereafter), but rather to unify existing venues with a shared environmental graphic identity, made the 1984 games one of the most economically and operationally successful games in history. Sussman’s graphic design, called “Festival Federalism”, applied a transformative overlay of colorful architectural objects, banners, and signage over the existing structures and downtown. The scheme rejected color combinations specific to national identities in favor of a versatile palette that resonated with the regional context as well as broadly appealing to the international community. “Instead of the expected national hues of red, white, and blue, the designs were rendered in hot magenta, vermillion, aqua, and chrome yellow, channeling the sun-drenched color palette of Los Angeles and the Pacific Rim.”
“Festival Federalism” performed like architectural confetti thrown over downtown LA. The effect was a transformation that was as much about the reinterpretation of the existing context as it was about the addition of new components. The visual identity was a reflection of the exceptional, celebratory nature of the Olympics, and its core values of international respect, communality and excellence. Sussman’s “supergraphics” were a compelling articulation of the space of exception of the Olympic Games. As she described it, “the idea of supergraphics was not that it was just ‘big’ but that it was ‘bigger’ than architecture.”
The design of a womxn’s sports bar is bigger than its architecture, but the architecture is an expression of its identity and a part of the means to achieve it. It is as much about its exception from the norm as it is about novelty. Like WIP, Title IX is a work in progress. The work is creating a space for womxn in a territory typically dominated by men, and the progress is a subversion of that context.