Sexual place, spatial change, and the social reorganization of sexual culture.

"Place" plays a profound role in the practice of sexuality in everyday life. Through sociocultural interactions, "space" is imbued with meaning, as locations come to be experienced as places with specific sentiments and memories. These meanings emerge from the practice of everyday life, in which sexuality plays an important role. Thus, context-specific practices ultimately shape and reshape the world in which individuals live. Individual agents act collectively to produce and reproduce local social worlds nested within broader socio-cultural systems. Sexual subjects act within a realm of embodied structures, creating sexual culture through practice.

So what does space have to do with sex? Space provides a stage which supplies "the scenery and props for the spate of human action played out before, within, or upon it" (Goffman, 1959, p. 22). However, space is not merely a stage upon which sexual subjects act. Geographical, anthropological, and sociological research has demonstrated how spaces do not merely have objective physical characteristics that shape behavior, but also become places imbued with subjective meaning that shapes the experience of a location (Carrillo, 2001; Dolance, 2005; Gaissad, 2005; Green, 2001; Leap, 1999; Parker, 1999).

Space refers to a locale with a given topographical layout, either natural or man-made. Space lacks the subjective imposition of meaning upon the layout by those within it. The concept of place, on the other hand, relates more directly to the symbolic meanings given a space by those positioned within it. Place is space personalized by the meanings imposed by subjects within it. As noted by Fullilove (2004), "places--the buildings, neighborhoods, cities, nations--are not simply bricks and mortar that provide us shelter ... each of these places becomes imbued with sounds, smells, noises, and feelings of those moments and how we lived them" (p. 10). Such impositions of meaning shape the sexual experience, and space becomes eroticized by social actors through their construction of a sense of place (Bell & Valentine, 1995). Because of qualities such as safety and public presence, the ecology of the surrounding environment can enhance or inhibit sexual experiences. In turn, sexual subjects, through practice, further impose symbolic meaning upon spaces. This imposition of symbolic meaning further influences the manner in which the spatial environment shapes the sexual encounter.

Though space does, in the strictest sense, provide physical limitations within which individuals must act, it does not provide a total structure within which the actions of its inhabitants are deterministically constrained. Rather, it provides a frame within which subjects actively shape social relations as well as create and recreate normative patterns of behavior through their practices. Furthermore, place does not deterministically constrain the practice of sexual culture. Sexual subjects contend not only with internalized structures, but also with the structure of the physical landscape, while they actively create local culture. We refer to the individuals engaged in this sexual culture at San Jose Park as "sexual subjects" in order to highlight that they are limited by structures, and thus "subject to" constraints. Yet they also intentionally and creatively act and thus are "subject of" their own selves (Foucault, 1982). The practice of sexual culture by these subjects, in the context of a particular sexual space, lies at the nexus of structure and agency.

Sexual culture is expressed via practice; that is to say, the culture exists in the practice of desire within this local social world. In a sense, their desire provides the groundwork for the cultivation of a sense of place on the part of these sexual subjects. Few research efforts have examined sexuality as socially organized through practice (e.g., Dowsett, 1996). Yet, the examination of the intersection of micro-social practices and larger social structures remains crucial for a fuller understanding of human sexuality. Given that larger structural forces play out in local places, the examination of place and sexuality provides key insights to how sexual subjects produce a sexual culture and how broader social forces influence this cultural production.

Like the examination of sexual culture as practice, there are few systematic explorations of the synergistic influences between space and sexuality not specific to sexual identity. Explorations of the relationship between space, place, and sexuality have largely focused upon gay and lesbian spaces (Bell & Valentine, 1995). Much of this literature either reflects research on "gay ghettos" and commercial gay and lesbian spaces or discusses sexual communities utilizing space to situate what are otherwise "imagined communities." Yet, the lived experience of sexuality extends beyond the culturally-constructed frameworks of representations and meanings associated with sexual identity. Our research on the sexual spaces of public parks of New York City drew us away from commercial venues and residential locales linked to gay identities. This subsequently led us to focus our examination on the interface of place and homoerotic desire, rather than on sexual place's relation to identity-laden sexuality.

The section of San Jose Park in which the sexual culture plays out includes a number of structures with which subjects must contend. On the obvious level, a specific physical topographical layout constrains the actions a subject can physically take. On another level, however, this landscape embodies other structures within which subjects act. Examples of these structures include the political economy of the region and governance by the state apparatus. Furthermore, the structuring forces of sexual oppression and racial and class marginalization operate deeply in the lives of the men of San Jose Park. These marginalizing forces create the need for sexual space within the confines of the park.

The exploration of place allows us to explore the contexts and deeper meanings behind the physical acts of sexuality (Fullilove & McGrath, 2005). The sexual place analyzed in this paper lies inside San Jose Park, a public park built and maintained by the city government for the express purpose of recreation. Ultimate authority for the control of this space lies with the city government; the Department of Parks and Recreation implements this control through its efforts to maintain, renovate, and fashion this space in concert with the political ideology of the local government. Thus, space within these parks is produced as a manifestation of city policy that subjects internalize, which shapes their sense of place and the practice of the local sexual culture.

Through a discussion of our fieldwork in the sexual place of San Jose Park, we describe how sexual subjects produce and revise sexual culture through practice within a location that is not only a place imbued with meaning but also a space that embodies broader structures. We describe how a sexual culture was practiced within a particular context by men in San Jose Park; how spatial changes in San Jose Park--changes that embodied larger structures--threatened this sexual culture; and how the men creatively refashioned their sexual culture in the wake of such spatial change. To conclude, we discuss the implications of this work as it specifically relates to San Jose Park and more broadly to the study of sexual places.

METHODOLOGY AND SETTING

There are many spaces in New York City where men meet other people to have sex. In almost any neighborhood of an urban setting such as New York, there are spaces designed for non-sexual activity that have been appropriated for sexual purposes at certain moments during day or evening hours. Such homoerotic places include public bathrooms in bus and train stations, bushes near bridges, softball and baseball diamonds at night, bathhouses, movie theaters, nightclub bathrooms, bathrooms of university libraries, and other semi-public institutions. Of the homoerotic places in New York City, we decided to focus upon a public park located in an area separated from mainstream gay spaces. We attempted to differentiate our study area from those public spaces dominated by and close to mainstream gay culture such as the streets of Greenwich Village or Chelsea. With this goal in mind, we assessed community outreach providers' views; HIV-outreach workers, researchers, and employees of community based organizations recommended San Jose Park, in addition to other parks.

To study the sexual space of San Jose Park, we decided to conduct ethnographic fieldwork, because it is well-suited to such exploratory work. The ethnographic research was comprised of both observational fieldwork and qualitative interviews. Ethnographic observations consisted of conducting systematic visits to San Jose Park in order to document the patterns and practices of the local sexual culture. The procedures involved in this research endeavor were approved by the Institutional Review Board of the New York State Psychiatric Institute and Columbia University. San Jose Park is a pseudonym, as are the names of all the subjects mentioned in the paper.

We visited San Jose Park over the course of one and a half years, from May of 2000 through the late summer of 2001. The length of field observations varied from a minimum of one hour to a maximum of four hours. The frequency of visits also ranged from consecutive, daily observations during any given week to simply twice per week. We conducted observations both independently and as a pair. We visited the park at almost every period of the day through evening hours. For safety reasons; we did not visit the park after midnight.

In the process of conducting field observations, we did not play any falsely-assumed roles such as "look outs" or "bird watchers." In the park we talked, sat down on rocks, stood next to trees, and walked together or independently. This was not done in a covert or hidden manner. Our role was to observe, at times from a long distance, and at times from a very close range. Whether individuals tolerated our observations of their sexual activities was determined by how familiar they were with seeing us in the park and by whether they felt disturbed, indifferent, or pleased at being observed. At the outset of our fieldwork, we engaged in the time-honored ethnographic tradition of "hanging out." During this period of preliminary assessment, we wandered around the southwest end of the park, each brandishing a 16oz. can of Coors Light. These "Silver Bullet" cans were readily recognizable and thus suggested that the pair of strangers wandering the park were benign and not undercover police or park rangers. Nonetheless, while conducting fieldwork, we followed a pair of standards to minimize the disruption of the social setting. The first was to not write any notes or use a tape recorder or any other type of recording material while in the field so as not to disrupt the social setting. The second was to identify ourselves as researchers during the course of verbal interactions with individuals so as to avoid committing the wrong of misleading them about our intentions.

One of the ethnographers also conducted qualitative interviews with several men involved in the sexual culture at San Jose Park. These interviews were tape recorded and then transcribed. Most were conducted in Spanish, the native language of many of the men involved in the sexual culture. Our analysis was based on the theoretical perspectives of sexual choreographies (Dowsett, 1996) and geographies of desire (Bell & Valentine, 1995), where observation is used to try to understand how sexual encounters are orchestrated by social actors and how these dynamics are shaped by broader social forces.

The exercise of conducting systematic observations resulted in the construction of fieldnotes, written after the observation and stored in electronic data files. Four major categories of data existed in fieldnotes: (a) maps, the drawings and diagrams of the physical spaces of the park; (b) descriptive prose, the characteristics of the social scenarios and social actors in San Jose and the types of activities taking place in the spaces of the park; (c) patterns, the configurations of the social and erotic dynamics within subgroups that take place between actors in San Jose; and (d) codes, the non-verbal and verbal codes, cues, and symbols used in the social and erotic interactions in these spaces. These categorizations of data were useful in analyzing and organizing our research findings. As is standard with the analysis of ethnographic fieldwork, the field notes and interviews were coded and indexed so as to allow for a thematic analysis of the emerging issues of the social setting.

A key element of ethnographic research, which enabled the generation of our data, is its time sensitivity. What initially began as a small ethnographic study of a localized sexual culture ultimately turned out to be a natural experiment of sorts. Over time, we were able to document changes in spatial structure and their connections to shifts in practice of the sexual culture over that same period of time. Our results reflect this prospective examination of place and sexuality.

RESULTS

Sexual Subjects

The men who came to San Jose Park to participate in its sexual culture were predominantly Latino, reflecting the makeup of the neighborhoods immediately surrounding the park. This is not to say that only men from the surrounding neighborhoods came to San Jose Park for sex. Some of the men came from other regions of the city, most notably neighborhoods in Northern Manhattan and the Bronx. The men whom we were able to interview at an extended length had annual household incomes ranging from $4,000 to $45,000. The highest salary was an outlier among the group, and the mean household income was $19,000 for those currently employed; some were not. As a whole, though sharing a sexual desire for men, these men claimed a range of sexual identities including gay, straight, and bisexual. Though not located in a readily identifiable "gay neighborhood," the park is listed as a location for sexual encounters on websites used by men who have sex with men (MSM). Despite the variation in the lives of these men, they all came to San Jose Park to partake in its sexual culture.

These subjects creatively produce the sexual culture through their routine practices. As shown in the following section, the men of San Jose Park situate the practice of their sexual culture within a particular space. The original landscape of San Jose Park shaped the sexual culture, but spatial change has enabled the participants to alter the practice of their sexual culture.

Original Landscape, Place, and Sexual Culture Within San Jose Park

San Jose Park is a public park in the New York City metropolitan area with an area approximately one fourth the size of the city's Central Park. Two predominantly low-income Latino neighborhoods are situated to the north and east of the park, and a predominantly middle-class Caucasian neighborhood lies to the south. These neighborhoods are densely populated, and many residents visit the park for recreational purposes. With several city bus stops and a major subway line located nearby, San Jose Park is highly accessible from many other neighborhoods. Numerous main roads frame the park's borders, making it accessible by car as well.

An immediately-noticeable aspect of San Jose Park is that it offers its visitors an opportunity to retreat from the city: it provides an opportune respite specifically because of its dense plant cover. Walking through the park, one cannot help but notice the lush vegetation, simply because one would not expect such an abundance of natural beauty located in the middle of such a dense urban area. San Jose Park is comprised of a large forested area interspersed with lush green fields. Large trees rise up into the sky, with numerous bushes and ivies flowing beneath. The park enables city dwellers to remove themselves from the concrete jungle of the city and immerse themselves in a serene natural environment, particularly in the forested regions. Visitors engage in a wide variety of activities inside the park, ranging from jogging to bird watching to picnicking to ball playing. A web of paths, both concrete and dirt, wind their way through the entire park; they link the various regions of the park and provide numerous points of entrance and exit. At the same time that it provides an atmosphere of natural beauty, the abundant foliage enables sexuality to be socially organized in a particular manner within the confines of the park. Trees and bushes provide many secluded areas in an otherwise public environment.

[FIGURES 1 & 2 OMITTED]

Homoerotic male sexual interactions in San Jose were concentrated mostly in the upper regions of the park, which is situated upon a hill sloping from the southwest and west sides to the east, largely separated from other regions of the park. This region contained the densest foliage and dirt trails. Sexual interactions beyond these areas were few because of the geographical characteristics of other regions of the park: there were few dirt trails, a very steep terrain inclination, low density of vegetation, or wide, paved paths frequently patrolled by park rangers and police. Dense vegetation and infrequent police patrols added to the intimacy of the homoerotic sexual place. We will refer to this place as "The Knoll."

The homoerotic sexual place of San Jose Park is situated upon a hill, which slopes downward from the west to east sides and consists of multiple levels. The paved pathways and dirt trails wind up, down, and around hills, and then continue up and down both primitive dirt and concrete staircase, creating a multi-layered landscape. A person can stand at one of the upper regions at the west end of the park and gaze eastward upon consecutive trails below. In this sense, the park provided a semi-public environment: public in that it is space accessible and observable by anyone standing above, yet private because nooks in the vegetation provide a cover which enables a sense of privacy and invisibility.

While these nooks provided the cover for sexual activity, cruising also occurred amongst men on their way in and out of the park along the trails. Participants designated certain areas of the sexual space specifically for sexual activity, while other areas were utilized primarily for cruising. The cruising and sex spots existed as semi-separate spheres; the occasional "quickie"--a speedy sexual encounter, which may include hand jobs, oral sex, or anal sex--may have occurred on the cruising trails and, at times, men drifted down to the sex spot seeking partners or to watch others engaged in sexual activities. Cruising largely occurred along many of the narrow dirt trails, which were peripheral to the park's main pedestrian paths, which were paved. We dubbed one major cruising trail "the runway" after the manner in which men strolled back and forth looking for suitable sexual partners. The runway was a long dirt trail located on the west side in the upper region of the park. The "off-the-beaten-path" aspect of the runway led to seclusion, and its use was almost exclusively limited to the participants in the sexual culture. Lush foliage overhung the runway on the west side, and to the east was an overlook with a steep drop from which you can gaze upon parts of the city. A rustic stone wall lined the edge of the overlook. Men sat upon or leaned against this wall while cruising for sex on a busy day. Therefore, given the wall on one side and a steep drop on the other, the runway exists as a long narrow strip with little on either side. Yet, aside from its features of seclusion, the runway was the most heavily-used cruising trail because of its proximity to the entrance of the main sex spot, which was at the south end of the runway.

Several other small enclaves for sexual activity were scattered throughout the park, but the main sex spot existed as a small cove at the bottom of a ravine hidden under a complete cover of a thick tree canopy and dense bushes. It was located in such a way that one had to look for it to find it. Even to the regular recreational patrons of the park, the entrance went unnoticed amidst the dense vegetation. A steep and treacherous path, littered with garbage and fallen logs, connected the foot of the runway with the cove of the sex spot. Further down the path, graffiti of penises tattooed the trees along the winding path to the heart of the sex spot, acting as a symbolic marker of the space. At the end of the path is a clearing beneath the thick canopy of trees. An uprooted tree at the center of this area acted as the centerpiece for sexual activity. Not only did the fallen tree serve as a marker for the center of the sex spot, but it served a functional purpose as well, because participants used the tree to sit on or lean against while engaging in sexual activity. The central activity of the sexual culture occurred in this location.

The following excerpt from fieldnotes describes a trip by the ethnographers down to the sex spot. Though but one occasion is described, it is emblematic of a general routine.

   After taking an inventory of the trace evidence [such as used
   condoms, condom wrappers, lube packets, and wads of toilet paper]
   of sexual activity by the cave, we headed back down the runway
   towards the bus stop at the south end of the park. It was dusk and
   the remaining light began to fade. Midway through our stroll back
   down the runway, we noticed two men ahead playing the cruising
   game with one another. One man, a short, young Latino male,
   ambled down the runway and occasionally peeked over his shoulder
   to determine if his pursuer, a 30-ish tall white male with a
   thick goatee, continued to follow. He would slow down to ensure
   that his partner would follow. When they got to the end of the
   runway, they veered off and headed down a steep decline.

   We headed after them down the path in single file fashion. It had
   rained the previous day and the path had become slippery with
   mud, necessitating a slow, calculated hike down the ravine. The
   trail was steep and barely discernable with the thick brush
   surrounding us. At one point about twenty feet down the trail, I
   slipped on a log. Had Miguel's hand not suddenly fixed squarely
   in the center of my back, I surely would have fallen. We made our
   way down the broken trail and passed the trees tattooed with
   graffiti of penises, symbolic markers of the spot. We veered off
   into the trees before we came to the main area of the sex spot.

   We found a large rock to sit upon, positioning ourselves about 40
   to 50 feet away from the fallen oak tree stationed at the center of
   the spot. The faint light through the thick tree canopy provided us
   with just enough brightness to watch the ensuing interaction of
   the two men. At first the men embraced one another as their hands
   groped downwards, feeling each others penises and butts through
   their jeans. The young Latino man leaned against the fallen tree
   and lifted the shirt of his partner kissing his partner's chest.
   The other man soon unbuckled the Latino's pants and performed oral
   sex on him. After just a few moments, they switched positions and
   the white man leaned against the tree as the young Latino man
   performed oral sex on him until he climaxed, after which the
   young Latino male spat on the ground. After the white man climaxed,
   the two men fastened their clothes into the appropriate
   places and headed up the trail. Their sexual encounter lasted
   approximately 20 minutes.

As we observed it, the practice of sexual culture in San Jose Park resembled descriptions of other public sexual cultures. Certain informal rules guided the behavior of these men. A code of silence existed amongst the practitioners of this sexual culture. Communication occurred via a variety of nonverbal symbolic codes, which consisted of gazes, body posturing, inviting smiles, hands fixed in spots on the body, and games of cat and mouse. The previous fieldnote excerpt described one instance of cruising leading to a sexual encounter. The following fieldnote reveals an instance in which one of the ethnographers was himself cruised.

   At the moment I got off the trail, a young Latino man with light
   olive skin and facial hair who wore a red jacket was walking
   slowly and almost stopped when he saw me. I saw him and we
   both looked at each other. We both nodded and I passed in front
   of him. I kept walking down the runway towards a smaller trail to
   the north. After I passed in front of the man in the red jacket, I
   saw another heavy Latino male in a dark blue jacket walking towards
   me. He had very red eyes and that caught my attention. After I
   passed in front of him, I stopped to stare at the view off the
   runway while on my way to the other trail. Both of the other men
   passed behind me, one after the other, and they kept walking
   towards the smaller trail. I watched until I could no longer see
   them. I decided to continue my walk towards the smaller trail to
   see what was going on there. When I arrived, there was nobody
   there. As I passed a big oak tree, I noticed two condom wrappers,
   a used condom, and a used piece of tissue with excrement on it.
   The tree had apparently served as a spot for sexual activity. I
   kept walking slowly. As I made my way down the trail, I heard
   someone walking behind me. I turned to see who it was and it was
   the man in the red jacket. He was standing next to the big tree. I
   looked at him and then I saw him pull out his erect penis and
   begin to rub it. I was only about 15 feet away from him. He
   continued to rub his penis. Then I noticed the other man in the
   dark blue jacket standing at the other end of the trail and was
   staring in my direction. I'm unsure whether it was [directed] at me
   or the man in the red jacket. I then headed in his direction, away
   from the man stroking his penis. As I passed him, he started
   walking to the man stroking his penis. I continued down the trail
   for a few minutes and then returned back to the big tree. The two
   men were gone, perhaps having gone off to find a more secluded
   location.

This interaction occurred in silence. The silence that ruled in The Knoll fed the atmosphere of seclusion. Participants wandered the trails unaccompanied and stood or sat alone, positioning themselves for an acceptable willing partner. Because of its removal from the recreational areas of the park and thick plant cover, the seclusion of the environment enabled undisturbed privacy. The use of this space was almost exclusively by participants in the local sexual culture. They needed little concern about passersby or police involvement because such individuals rarely made their way through the sexual space, and it was not visible from other areas of the park. Thus, the opportunity to lurk like a furtive figure amongst the trees came with no reason for hesitation. Men practiced their sexual culture mostly in silent fashion, alone until they solicited a willing partner with non-verbal cues.

A typical sexual solicitation and subsequent engagement is best summed up in the words of Rafael, a young Puerto Rican man, who in the following account narrates what ensued after he connected visually with a man on the runway whom he found attractive. He said, "So I followed him to the woods and he was already fully aroused. I could see it through his pants. He was ready and when we got to a spot that he [was] comfortable in, basically just, I took my shirt off. He started right, fight with his pants. He knew exactly what he wanted and the first thing I did was give him a blow job. Shortly thereafter he had asked if I wanted to do more and I said sure." The cruising and sexual negotiation largely took place in silence through non-verbal cues, with brief, whispered verbal negotiation of continuance occurring upon the completion of an initial sexual act.

Spatial Change and the Social Reorganization of Sexual Culture

A series of landscape alterations occurred almost a year after our initial fieldwork in San Jose Park. As part of an initiative directed by the city government, the Parks Department attempted to renovate parks similar to San Jose. The publicly stated goal was to improve the quality of small parks in the city to increase their utilization and, in that manner, to increase the economic infrastructure of neighborhoods surrounding these parks. These efforts coincided with Mayor Rudolph Giuliani's crusade to enhance the "quality of life" within New York City. Despite levels of local patronage at San Jose Park that would suggest otherwise, public officials made assertions that the park was inhospitable. In a newspaper interview, a Parks Department official stated that the park was "a menacing place." Though San Jose Park was utilized by many different types of recreational visitors and was experienced as a place of comfort and familiarity for the men who visited The Knoll, these public representations of menace justified renovation efforts.

Coinciding with these improvement efforts was an attempt to eliminate homoerotic practices. As a result, the sexual space inside the park was renovated and redesigned by forces outside the sexual culture. The dirt trails, including the runway, were widened and paved. The previously lush foliage along these trails, which had provided the semi-private ambiance, was pruned almost to the trunk or killed with herbicide. The natural feel of the park once given by the rich vegetation gave way to a barren quality as the trees receded. A large pile of dirt, branches, and dead trees were gathered and arranged to block the entrance to the main sex spot. This once semi-private locale was transformed into a space intended to increase recreation and broader public socialization. Though wonderfully beneficial to many recreational visitors, it was transformed into a place experienced by the men of The Knoll as more threatening.

One remarkable aspect of this renovation was that the efforts were confined to the space utilized by participants in the local sexual culture. Other areas of the park were either deemed not to warrant renovation or simply not included in the Parks Department's plans and thus remained untouched. Furthermore, the renovations predominantly consisted of efforts to enhance visibility in the park and did not seem to be an overall renovation. In other areas of San Jose Park not known for sexual activity, broken steps remained unfixed, lampposts stayed in non-working condition, and piles of garbage remained uncollected.

The spatial changes in the sexual place of San Jose Park were not renovations. The city's alterations of the locale were aimed at disrupting or eliminating the sexual culture within this space. The city's actions altered the men's sense of place in this location; what was once a place of comfortable solitude became threatening. These men no longer felt that this place was somewhere that they could wander freely in solitude, looking for willing partners. The increased visibility made the men more vulnerable and made them feel that they were being watched. The participants, however, did not cease the practice of their sexual culture, but instead made a cultural correction for the newly defined spatial structure; they creatively changed the manner in which they practiced their sexual culture. Their local sexual culture evolved into a more social, less solitary one.

Instead of sitting alone along a ledge, men congregated in pairs or small groups. Their interactions remained calm and reserved. Though little chatting occurred within these groups and rarely rose above a soft murmur, their shift in presentation of self offered a social front in their altered environs. Men who previously had lurked through the park looking for partners now walked with purpose in their steps, rather than slowly meandering and casting sideways glances. The once-familiar furtive figures are now rarely seen. Their cruising patterns adapted to the presence of interlopers by presenting a publicly acceptable presence.

The creation of a more inviting recreational environment, through the disruption of sexual space, indeed enhanced the public nature of the space. The alteration of The Knoll created a connection to the rest of the park, albeit a psychic connection more so than physical. Recreational visitors to this area of the park became more commonplace on the now-paved trails previously "reserved" for participants in the sexual culture. This led to social interactions once out of place on these trails. On one occasion, upon venturing through the park and into the homoerotic sexual place, we came across Roberto, a handsome man in his late 30's who regularly flashes a sly smile at the other men, acting as an informal tour guide. Roberto was a park regular who often hung out sitting upon the wall of the runway. As we slowly ambled by, Roberto cheerfully described the neighborhood beneath the overlook to a pair of old German tourists who had made their way through the park down the runway. Standing along the overlook of the runway, Roberto pointed toward points of interest in the neighborhood below and briefly gave them a bit of information. Such an interaction would have been inconceivable only a year before. Roberto and the other sexual subjects made subtle practical alterations to allow for recreational visitors while maintaining their sexual culture.

The altered space influenced the revision of cruising patterns more so than actual sex acts. Sexual behavior on the trails decreased, suggested not merely by a decrease in our own observational data, but also a major decrease in the trace evidence. Used condoms, containers of lubricant, and sanitary wipes were found far less frequently after the renovations occurred. Though the public nature of sexual acts decreased, sexual activity nonetheless continued to occur. A new path to the main sex spot appeared adjacent to the dirt and tree pile acting as a blockade to the previous entrance. The disconnection of the sex spot from the remainder of the park trails preserved its original form. Though sexual expression on the public trails became more subdued, sexual acts occurring in the sex spot remained intense displays of homoerotic passion.

Though the homoerotic desire of the sexual subjects did not change, the manner in which they enacted them evolved with the structural constraint expressed in spatial change around them. Rather than ending the practice of this small sexual culture in San Jose Park or moving it to another location, such as a small, unrenovated park a few blocks from the southeast side of San Jose, these men creatively reshaped their cruising practices so as to coincide with the changes in the social and physical environment around them. The subtleties of these practical shifts highlight the nuances of sexual culture.

DISCUSSION

Spatial Change as a Technique of Power

Because the city targeted the homoerotic place within San Jose Park, the changes in landscape reflect an assertion of control by the government over the manner of utilization of the park. The efforts at spatial change specifically reflected an attempt to increase community policing of behaviors perceived as indecent, a reinsertion of the watchful eyes of informal social control. The increase in traffic by recreational visitors effectively polices the sexual culture of the Knoll by providing these eyes. They were turning watchful eyes not onto the street, but onto the once-secluded areas of the park, in an attempt to create an "intricate, almost unconscious, network of voluntary controls and standards among the people themselves and enforced by the people themselves" (Jacobs, 1961, p. 32). The public presence altered the sexual subjects' sense of place, from one of comfort to one of threat. It is from this point that these men make practical alterations of their sexual culture.

These efforts to alter the landscape of the park characterize government in the truest sense of the word, that is, "the conduct of others' conduct" (Foucault, 1990). The state attempted to shape the patterns of action within the park by shaping the landscape of the park, which was expected to curtail certain behaviors via the threat of social control by outsiders. These renovation efforts were, in effect, a power technique deployed by the state in its effort to conduct others' conduct. It was an attempt to shape local practice through directing self-governance. Through spatial changes, the city attempted to shape the present and future practice of participants in the local sexual culture. As noted by Foucault in his discussion of the deployment of power, power is "an action upon an action, an existing action or on those which may arise in the present or the future" (Foucault, 1982, p. 220). In effect, these measures function by further marginalizing those already on the margins.

Though the data for this paper reflect a specific sexual culture in New York City, these transformations are unique neither to New York nor to the United States. Gaissad (2005) detailed the similar effects of decisions made by state officials and urban planners on sexual places in the south of France. Affecting spatial change remains yet another power technique in the state's arsenal of weapons for governing public sexuality. It provides a structure of constraint on those acting within such space. Yet, even in the face of constraining structures, there always remains the opportunity for expressions of human agency. That the men of San Jose Park creatively refashioned their sexual culture provides an example of this.

Historically, New York City--like many cities--has attempted to quell sexual activity between men, particularly since the emergence of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Its policies attempt to steer sexuality in general, but homoerotic interactions in particular, away from the public realm. The city has often taken veiled action against male sexual cultures through a stance of ensuring the public welfare (Elovitz & Edwards, 1996). Both physically and in the popular imagination, the space in San Jose Park is constructed by the city as non-sexual recreational space. Consequently, the renovation efforts tacitly targeted the homoerotic sexual culture in San Jose Park. The renovations represent an assertion of control over the utilization of this space for purposes deemed indecent by the state and an attempt to quell a sexual culture. It represents an example of attempts by the state to govern self-governance by the strategic fostering of social control through spatial renovation. However, participants enabled the evolution of their local sexual culture. Through subtle shifts in practice, they altered the manner of normative action within the confines of this space so as to alter the fundamental nature of the sexual culture from a solitary one to one of a more social nature. This reorganization of sexuality represents an everyday form of resistance (Scott, 1985).

Conclusion

This paper is not about some sort of government conspiracy to limit the freedom of its citizens. Our main argument is that by analyzing ethnographic case studies, we can begin to understand the complexities of sexuality, and in particular, how place provides the context for the nexus of societal structure and individual agency. This study reinforces other studies that have found sexual behavior to be contingent upon the context of sex. If the spatial context of sex changes, the configuration of erotic and sexual interactions also changes, which demonstrates that place and context should not be considered static, but rather, fluid through space and time. Thus, having the capability to change the sexual milieu through spatial changes poses inevitable questions about intervention from the perspectives of the state and public health.

From the state perspective, the issues are whether or not to intervene and on what grounds. The state will intervene in environments like San Jose in order to (a) sanitize the public sphere by eliminating spaces where undesirable behavior is practiced; (b) increase the levels of safety, given that environments like San Jose could serve as spaces to commit crimes ranging from indecent exposure and solicitation to violent acts; or (c) improve property values through gentrification and beautification of residential areas. Not to intervene, from the state perspective, could lead to the potential under-utilization of the above political and economic resources. Yet, sexual cultures are in a constant mode of production and reconfiguration, such that state interventions to repress or eliminate an undesirable sexual culture might not be successful.

This ethnographic study also has implications for sexuality studies at large. It documents the ongoing reformation of a sexual culture that is not based on identity politics but in practice. It may not constitute a readily-definable community, but it does reflect a level of social organization which may not be apparent at first. It also demonstrates the use of transgression against state regulations and traditional forms of sexuality (e.g., heteronormative vs. homoerotic sex; public vs. private sex). Although some of these findings have been documented in other studies, it is important to reiterate the complexities of sexuality beyond the individual as the unit of analysis, and the use of place and sexual culture for its analysis.

This study has also led us to new questions that deserve further investigation. How does the constantly-changing erotic spatial configuration of places like San Jose Park shape sexual pleasure and desire over the sexual lives of individuals? How are non-identity-based sexual cultures sustained over time, and what are their utilities within the sexual landscape of the city? If we challenge the notion that public sex is impersonal, how can we understand the ways in which intimacy is constructed within a context where a sexual culture of silence converges with constant monitoring and regulation of the state? These questions remain ripe for investigation.

Note. We would like to thank the men of San Jose Park, who graciously shared their lives and allowed us into "their" place. We would like to thank Kim Hopper and Jennifer Foray for their perusal of drafts and helpful evaluations, Mindy Fullilove and Moriah McSharry McGrath who provided very useful comments for this revision, as well as the anonymous reviewers who provided thoughtful suggestions. Fieldwork was supported through a minority supplement to a center grant from the National Institute of Mental Health (P30 MH43520, Anke Ehrhardt, P.I.) and NRSA training grant (T32 MH 19139).

Manuscript accepted August 2, 2005

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Brian C. Kelly and Miguel A. Munoz-Laboy

Columbia University

Address correspondence to Brian C. Kelly, Columbia University, Department of Sociomedical Sciences, 722 W. 168th St., 9th Floor, New York, NY, 10032; e-mail: [e-mail].