A farewell to Eau Clare Market
The latest casualty of Calgary's obsession with the new and shiny
A rainy Saturday in September, 2010, marks my first visit to downtown Calgary — and the Eau Claire Market. A truly foreign experience for a newcomer used to bustling downtowns, even more so on a weekend.
Naively, I also thought I’d be able to find my way around downtown in an intuitive manner. Back then, I didn’t own a smartphone, and wayfinding was still a nascent practice in our city’s core, so I found the lack of obvious, readable landmarks rather disorienting.
Although I started my downtown tour at the notorious 8th Street LRT platform, I somehow failed to find Stephen Avenue, or the Core shopping centre — for some reason, I wandered north instead of south or the CTrain tracks.
I went into the lone Tim Hortons I found open, at the corner of 6th Street and 5th Ave SW. Once caffeinated, I continued my stroll, unsuccessfully trying to find stuff happening, until I serendipitously came across Eau Claire Market, where it was dry and shops were open.
While it didn’t make an impression on me then, the market would become my regular pitstop the following summer. It was a place to use the washroom, take a swig from the water fountain, or have a snack in the middle of a bike ride between Collingwood, where I lived at the time, and wherever the Bow River Pathway would take me.
I would eventually learn about Eau Claire Market’s blatant failure when I was still a student at EVDS (the UofC faculty now known as SAPL). Except for the times when there was a festival going on nearby, the market was rarely bustling, though it was never quite empty either, so I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what exactly made the space a failure — as a matter of fact, I still can’t.
Some blame the market’s failure on the space’s design, others on the lack of nearby residents, insufficient parking, or that Calgarians just weren’t into farmers’ markets back in the ‘90s. But perhaps the real culprit was the inability of the market’s managers to see beyond Granville Island as a measure of success?
Despite a handful of quirky little shops, art galleries, as well as an interesting selection of independent food vendors, Eau Claire Market’s vibe remained corporate, an unsurprising outcome in a risk-averse city.
Yet, there were always people hanging about at the market, which to me seems less a sign of failure, and more a sign of untapped potential. Even on new year’s day this year, with shops closed, there were families using the indoor playground.
From my vantage point, the problem with Eau Claire was a mismatch between the expectations of the building’s owners, the tenants that could afford a lease, and the people who actually showed up: the downtown construction workers who stopped for a drink or two at Garage after a lengthy work week; the neighbours who popped in to buy a head of lettuce at Island Foods on their way home after work; the moms with little ones rushing to the washroom, who’d perhaps buy a treat from Sweet Surprise before heading out again.
If you stroll around Prince’s Island on a warm day, it’s obvious that our city’s centre isn’t empty after 5pm, nor on the weekend, and I dare speculate that many Calgarians would stop by Eau Claire market to grab a bite if there was something that struck their fancy, like I did countless times.
But, somehow, we are not the people Eau Claire Market aspired to attract — we are the people it ended up with, and we’re obviously not worth the effort.
Yesterday, I stopped by Eau Claire Market’s farewell party, and it was as bustling as ever, with the same people you’d see picnicking on Prince’s Island on a warm Saturday afternoon. Food trucks lined outside, alongside an assortment of vendors, as the crowd watched an Indigenous performance taking place on the market’s promenade. Although only two stalls remain open, the food court was busy.
Why didn’t that happen every weekend for the best part of the last three decades? Anyone can tell you that consistency is essential to sustain vibrancy, yet in Calgary we fail to do this, time and time again.
I’m well aware that Eau Claire Market peaked well before my time here, and that I only got to witness its decline. However, its story seems to align with Calgary’s very identity. Whether we want to admit it or not, our city has a soft spot for the new and shiny, and a compulsive drive to neglect its past — even if it’s as recent as the 1990s.
For many, the construction of the Green Line is a renewed opportunity to rewrite Eau Claire’s history, to finally transform the area into the thriving neighbourhood it’s always aspired to become, and fill it with affluent urbanites dining, shopping and flâneuring.
As the building awaits to be demolished in July, I can’t help but see a missed opportunity.
Why not reuse the building to create an LRT station that’s more than a transitional space transit users can’t wait to escape from, and serve the needs of a growing population, all the while preserving a contemporary landmark and its embodied energy?
Alas! My mundane aspirations are no match to the lofty ambitions of our city’s boosters.
With a private athletic club coming up at the former Y building, a refreshed plaza, and the glitzy apartments that are likely to continue to pop up in the area, I wonder if history is bound to repeat itself.
Goodbye Eau Claire Market, you will be missed.
Ximena.
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