Coit-y Toity – San Francisco

Maxfield Hunt  |  Racketeer Broadcast Association

Look here, folks. San Francisco. City of fog, sure, and those infernal cable cars that clatter like a pack of jackasses on cobblestones. Thankfully, San Francisco has the technological advantage of cable cars. But all that aside, there’s more than sourdough and bawdy sing-alongs down by the docks.

Now, on the 15th of May, I found myself on one of these city-sanctioned walking tours. Seems the objective was to delve into the heart of Coit Tower, that stoic sentinel on the hill. Apparently, there’s some grand display of “Social Realist art” hidden away in there. Curiosity, that pesky varmint, got the better of me. The climb promised a decent view, and those Telegraph Hill stairs are a good way to keep the ticker ticking, especially for stroke-prone folks like myself.

This here Coit Tower, it was funded by some eccentric socialite – Lillie Coit, by name. Left a wad of cash to the city to “beautify” it, you see. Beautify it with what, exactly? That’s what I aimed to find out. The real story, the one that might surprise even a cynic like myself, well, that unfolded within the cool, echoing walls of the tower itself. Here’s the thing, folks – there’s something hidden away in there, something that might just make you think, even a curmudgeon like yours truly. Prepare yourselves for a sight that wouldn’t be out of place on a dusty union hall bulletin board. Murals, that’s what you’ll find. A whole darn collection of them, splashed across the walls like some oversized protest poster. Twenty-six artists, so the guide claimed, all Californians with a bone to pick, it seems.

While nearly every flat surface is adorned with colorful tableaus, let’s pique your interest with these selections from the full tour. Now, these weren’t your typical landscapes or portraits of society ladies sipping tea. No sir. These murals were all about the working man and women – burly dockworkers straining under the weight of cargo, farmers with hands weathered by the sun and the soil. All depicted with a certain… well, let’s say a romanticized grit. There’s a clear message woven into these scenes. A message about inequality, about the wealth concentrated in the hands of a few while the average Joe toils away for a pittance. Now, some might call it a commentary on the times, the Depression and all that. Others might see it as a blatant soapbox. Me? I just see it as art with an agenda, and a rather blunt one at that.

There’s even a mural by a fellow named Howard, John Langley Howard, mind you, that depicts the harsh realities of industrial labor. Disenfranchised workers, a stark contrast to the fat cats who rake in the profits. Makes you wonder where Howard stood on the whole class struggle business. Then there’s another one, by Zakheim, Bernard Zakheim it was. The Library- a  a coded message, a testament to the artist’s political beliefs and a rallying cry against censorship. It forced San Francisco to confront the simmering social and political tensions of the 1930s. Take a closer look at the newspapers and books in their hands. John Langley Howard, a fellow muralist, stretches towards a copy of “Das Kapital,” a foundational text of communism. A nearby headline screams, “Local Artists Protest Destruction of Rivera’s Fresco,” referencing the recent obliteration of Diego Rivera’s controversial mural in New York. A not-so-subtle jab at the Nazis, I suppose.

Hard to believe the diversity of the 1930s drew upon socialists and authoritarians in the same hallowed halls. So, there you have it. Coit Tower, a monument to civic pride some might say, but also a platform for social commentary, for better or worse. Whether it’s art or agitprop, I’ll leave that for you to decide. But one thing’s for sure, a visit to Coit Tower is more than just a climb and a view. It’s a window into a bygone era, a time of economic strife and ideological clashes.

This is not some slimy, hoity-toity homage – this is Lillie’s punk-rock style and would make Lillie Coit proud.Eccentric doesn’t even begin to cover it. Apparently, this gal fawned over firefighters from the time she was a kid in short skirts. Our guide regaled us with this tale of when a youthful Lillie witnessed these firemen, Knickerbocker Engine Company No. 5, struggling up Telegraph Hill to a fire in 1858. Now, some say she was on her way home from school, others claim it was a rehearsal for a wedding (talk about misplaced priorities). Either way, the little firebug jumps in and helps them get the damn hose up the hill faster than the competition. From then on, she’s practically their mascot. Even traveled to Europe, came back, and they made her an honorary member! Rode along to fires, parades, the whole nine yards. Even visited them when they were sick and sent flowers to their funerals. Talk about dedication. This obsession with firefighters followed her to the grave, literally. Ashes got put in a mausoleum with a bunch of firefighting memorabilia.

So, this tower? Yeah, it was built with her dough, a third of her estate in fact, left to the city “to beautify the place.” Beautify it with what, a giant concrete middle finger to the Gilded Age elite? Maybe that’s what she was thinking. Can’t say I blame her. And for a grumpy schmuck, that’s enough to get the gears turning. 

Although this experience could be free, nothing in life really is. The all-volunteer tour guide & I begrudgingly admit, their nonprofit chart deserve a bit of your hard-earned cash. Sop much so, infact, we encourage you check SF City Tour Guide for yourself, with tour options around the entire city. Learn more by visiting sfcityguides.org