The battle over the iconic White Stag sign in the heart of downtown Portland. A microcosm in the ongoing battle between progress and preservation, through the lens of the people involved. Why was the University of Oregon denied the right to modify the sign to their needs, when so many commercial interests in the past have done so? What makes this issue so unique and what blew it out of proportion? A look through the opinions of University of Oregon staff, as well as Portlanders as to how they feel about the attempt to modify the sign.

The University moved to Portland with the intention of “complementing” Portland-based programs and Universities, said Stavitsky, seeing as how the University offers the only journalism program in the state of Oregon. The Ducks expected a warm welcome from Portlanders and Portland-based Universities.

The atmosphere soon changed.

Soon after their arrival, the University presented the public with a proposal that would produce a heated rivalry and an eruption of emotion. Oregon’s proposal was to alter Portland’s much-loved trademark, the White Stag sign that rests atop the University’s leased building, to read “The University of Oregon.”

They failed.

“For them…the controversy over the sign represented a case of Duck imperialism. We were not at all coming here to compete, but rather we were bringing programs to the Portland area that filled niches…but that was a message that was difficult to communicate.” — Al Stavitsky, Director of the George S. Turnbull Portland Center

Portlanders became outraged with the threat of alteration to their local history, and the University of Oregon found that their expectations had been nothing but mere assumptions.

“It’s kind of a bummer to see it changed, but it could be changed to something worse.” — . Alex Bokish, Portlander.

Many Portlanders and local organizations thought that the University’s very presence as the new kids on the block represented a form of invasion, and the request to alter the White Stag only exacerbated the situation.

Outside of examining that microcosm, we discovered through our journey of progress and preservation the true complexity of our topic. Marketing practitioners have always strived to make their advertising pitches visible and available to the public, therefore it only makes sense to use a sign that can be seen from numerous vantage points.  The University of Oregon thought so, as have other brands over time (Made in Oregon gift stores, White Stag clothing, etc.).  The thin line of balance between progress and preservation cannot be found by one man alone.
Progress is when something changes.  Preservation is when something stays the same.  The battle over the White Stag was unfortunate, mainly because people focused on the wrong ideals, i.e. not modifying the sign to suit current needs while preserving it, but to simply preserve it and allow it to remain useless, thereby endangering its future.  Previous precedents of alteration were not followed.

Signs in America that are seen as iconic landmarks are typically not destroyed or altered; they are preserved because people care about them and take a stand for them.  Our issue was really about iconic signs.  Not neon signs, not historical landmarks in general; iconic signs that are desired to remain due to the love that people have for them.
The Neon Graveyard in Las Vegas provides perfect insight into this topic.  The signs that have been around since the beginning of Las Vegas are still there.  The sign will remain forever in Oregonians’ mind, not because of grand design, but because people in Oregon love it.

When it comes to progress and preservation, there’s no bigger battle than that between commercial interests and history; whether it’s the renovation of an aging building for modern use, or the modification of a sign to suit a building’s new owners. The battle wages on with real estate; even in the throes of a depression it is still a pricey commodity. It’s all about location.

What makes a university a worse entity to modify the sign than a purely commercial interest?
Perhaps it stems back to Nike and Phil Knight, a University alumnus, as a major donor to the University. Or perhaps it’s because Portland already has a university.
The University itself, like many other schools, places history above new development; retrofitting and using antiquated buildings in a modern way, rather than replacing. The University itself has a large presence in Portland, and as a tax-paying member of the community, as well as a responsible member of the community, they should have been able to modify the sign as they saw fit. Since they can’t, they might as well move to another building, more centrally located with better access to downtown. The entire point of being in the White Stag block was to modify the hallmark sign. The University values advertising itself like any entity. Moving out would demonstrate to the city of Portland that the University expects treatment like any other entity and would demonstrate the same thing to the building’s owners for not respecting their renters’ wishes. Then a commercial interest may move in and modify it to suit their needs, probably without any public uproar. Problem solved and history repeats itself.
Outside of this irrational microcosm, battles rage on as preservation workers are constantly combating the lure of money that newer development brings. With cities rapidly encroaching into farmland, battles like this, though perhaps more sensical, will only continue to spark up in the remainder of this century.

Despite how it may seem contradictory, progress can go hand-in-hand with preserving history. A neighborhood, city, or any other area, doesn’t have to cling to its history, and sacrifice what benefits come with the interest of a company, or small business seeking to plant its roots in their communities.

A community can invite business into their areas and not only integrate them into their history, but use their history to bring economic prosperity to their area through new jobs and tourism.

The way forward, in terms of a solution to the progress and preservation conflict — whether it be economic or otherwise –lies in the careful adaptation of history to benefit the economic system of local areas.

Progress and preservation are partners, and must go hand in hand into the brave new world that is developing everyday. One cannot exist without the other. Without respecting both, we lose as a locality.

Everyone born and raised in Oregon knows this sign. Especially University of Oregon associates.

Just a few years ago in the fall of 2006, University of Oregon leased the White Stag block for the new location of their Portland campus, the Turnbull center. Soon after the University made itself right at home, announcing plans to alter the famous neon marquee to read, “University of Oregon”.

“We thought that altering the sign would have proved a good marketing strategy,” said Al Stavitsky, Associate Dean of the Turnbull Center.

The University of Oregon expected its new presence to be welcome, and the amending of the sign to be a huge step for the U of O in terms of branching out to cities other than Eugene.

What the U of O didn’t expect is a massive cultural backlash from citizens throughout Portland. Scores of natives opposed the alteration of this historic monument, and even the University of Portland felt threatened by the new University of Oregon presence.

“For many, even the University of Portland, U of O’s alteration of the Made in Oregon sign represented a form of duck imperialism,” elaborated Stavitsky.

And to many it did. In conducting several street interviews of Portland natives for this article, the consensus proved to be that they despised the manipulation of the sign’s historic lettering, and that it should not be a Eugene based organizations option to alter such an important part of Portland culture.

“Under no circumstance should the University of Oregon be allowed to claim the Made in Oregon sign for its own, and completely change the meaning of it. This is my culture, this is my history,” said one of the interviewees, a Portland native.

The sign however has been altered on several occasions before. Before it was ever a historic landmark, the sign read “White Satin Sugar”, then “White Stag Clothing Company” in 1959, and now finally it reads “Made in Oregon”. The question now facing proponents and opponents is this: “To what extent should this historic landmark be used for commercial purposes?”

Historic preservation month contains more significance to Oregon than ever before. With the threat of Oregon’s trademark White Stag sign being altered for commercial purposes, the preservation of history is now under heavy public scrutiny. Thanks to this incident, Oregonians are sure to be more sensitive to any change to their history.

Sources

1. 1) http://www.preservationnation.org/take-action/preservation-month/
2. 2) http://www.portlandonline.com/leonard/index.cfm?a=238587&c=27435
3. 3) http://thetribonline.org/news/print_story.php?story_id=123845511580489900
4. 4) http://www.portlandonline.com/Leonard/index.cfm?a=238010&c=27435
5. 5) http://djcoregon.com/news/2010/03/23/portland-to-own-made-in-oregon-sign

Nostalgia; the word comes from the collision of Greek compounds nóstos (return home), and álgia (pain, or ache).  It is the emotion of longing for home or for something that an individual once had.

In my last blog I had discussed my personal nostalgia with neon signs, but I never really discussed how Neon signs came to exist in the United States, nor did I examine how Neon Signs became associated with nostalgia for many.

Neon signs originally came into being either in the early 1890’s or early 20^th century. There are conflicting stories about the first sign; one theory purports that Nikola Tesla displayed one at the World’s Fair in 1893, another says that Perley G. Nutting displayed one at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, circa 1904. Yet another theory, which is widely regarded as the true introduction of neon signs, suggests that George Claude displayed one at the Paris Expo in 1910.

It wasn’t until the early 1920’s that the neon sign was brought to the United States. George Claude sold two neon signs to a Packard dealership owner, Earl Anthony, in the city of Los Angeles, California. They are from that day, a uniquely American thing.

As people began to notice Mr. Anthony’s signs, dubbed liquid fire, they became an American trend and swept across the United States. Like bug zappers of today though much less fatal business owners loved the attention these signs received which resulted in more business for them.

Others found the signs to be a novel and fascinating attraction. More often than not, the determining factor of where someone would go to shop lay with which business had a neon sign. Their reasoning was, if someone could put money into such a thing, then certainly they were well worth the money.

The neon sign craze continued roaring like a lion through the thirties, forties, and fifties. With the booming post-war economy came new businesses and the desire to cash in on the glam and prestige that came with a neon sign.

However, all good things must come to an end, and neon signs reached their apex during the late fifties. In the early sixties, there was a rush of regulations passed in both cities and other areas that severely limited the use of neon signs.

Further, public opinion of the signs changed from delight to disgust. As the sixties waned and the seventies were birthed, a new art style inspired America to pick up where they left off with neon signs. Ever since, the neon sign has been steadily climbing its way back into the good graces of the American public, mostly as a collectible item.

Despite the rough and tumble history of the neon sign and the current resurgence, it still remains lodged in the vestige of our history. More often than naught these days neon signs are associated with the historic Route 66, and the city of Las Vegas.

Despite many assuming that the neon sign was due for the pull of the plug, they continue to live on and remain ingrained in our country.

Sources:

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/360921/the_history_of_the_neon_signa_small.html?cat=37

http://inventors.about.com/od/qstartinventions/a/neon.htm

http://www.neonbytj.com/historyofNEON.html

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2006/09/signs-of-our-times/5114/

The controversy over the fate of Portland’s iconic White Stag sign appears to have been resolved.  Thank God.  The city of Portland got its way and earned the right to choose the words that appear on the sign.  The central argument that was presented by the city against the University of Oregon by the city was that the University was going to be using the sign for commercial purposes.  I feel that if the sign would have read, “University of Oregon,” that many of the people in our beautiful state would have been angry about it.

After all, throughout the life of the sign, it has been used to advertise multiple brands, but never for an educational establishment.  The city of Portland was adamant about preserving the heritage of the sign, so why didn’t they choose to leave the text alone upon inheriting the sign from its owner?  This is a bit hypocritical on the part of the city if you ask me.  Similarly, the University wanted to change the sign in a way that would have reflected ownership on its part.  This might have been a very effective marketing tool, but many would have resented the University specifically for capitalizing on the sign’s availability.

It is already a well-known fact that the University of Oregon is a well-funded organization.  The changing of the text to the University’s benefit would have been viewed as unnecessary and over the top.  Portland, on the other hand, cannot be accused of using the sign for monetary gain through advertising in any way, shape, or form.  Landmarks should not be used for advertising purposes.  Interestingly enough, this sign is one that has become most famous for a particular advertisement, not the fact that it is a billboard for advertising.  This decision is one that will be visible for quite some time, and the University is lucky that the sign was saved from its grasp.

Cited URL’s:

http://pdx.uoregon.edu/leed/index.html

http://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WM1DJ6_White_Stag_Portland_Oregon

http://www.portlandonline.com/BDS/INDEX.CFM?a=221713&c=49539

http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2009/10/possible_new_lease_on_life_for.html

http://portlandlandmarks.org/

Change is good for you, right? An organism that doesn’t change, dies — eesh, that’s a little grim. Of course, “Ch-Ch-Changes” happen every day.
There’s a slogan, a scientific fact, and an overplayed song for just about everything having to do with change and its relation to the passing of time.
Why, then, do we as a species fear it?
The “Made in Oregon” sign isn’t important to the survival of the species, the region, or even a single human being. It could be knocked off its building tomorrow by a freak windstorm, or perhaps a cadre of giant radioactive scorpions and life would go on. Well, mostly.
Apocalyptic annihilation is one thing, but change the famous sign? Holy crap! It’s enough to make a University and the largest city in Oregon lose their heads.
Though, I would like to point out that this sign has seen nothing but change. Initially it had a sugar company’s logo in it. Then it had a certain type of quadruped added for s sports wear company. Then it was bought by an Oregon souvenir company. Finally, “Old Town” was scrawled across the bottom.
Is there some sentimentalist viewpoint in modern culture? Did people go a little overboard over all the previous changes? I’m going to guess not. There’s something about where we are now as a society that makes us fear change when it comes to architecture. Older is always better. And after all, why shouldn’t it be?
For example, I stood in the bell tower of the original church at Jamestown the day before Hurricane Katrina swept the gulf. It is a church that had been built in the early 1600s. Looking up at those bricks as warm hurricane rain water poured through openings in the antique mortar, and knowing all the tragedy that had fallen all around it, I couldn’t help but feel the awe and majesty of the location. There was a power inherent in that one spot. If anyone had tried to change a single brick, I would be in shock at the very thought.
And while over here on the west coast we don’t have architecture that is 400 or more years old, we do have something. We have a sign that started only as a series of commercial ventures that has through time transmogrified itself through affection and adoration (or perhaps through being forced to see it everyday) into something that will, hopefully, exist in its current form for as long as possible. I give it about 17.5 years (the average time the sign has stayed in a single incarnation).
Unfortunately, nothing stays the same, everything changes, and we must learn to accept it. Inevitably, that pesky little “Made in Oregon” sign will no longer remain. At least if giant radioactive scorpions have anything to say about it.

A brief history of the sign’s changes.

Methods for managing fear of change.

The famous quote about change from Bill Gates.

An opinion column about not fearing change in things people have felt a connection to for a long time.

A definition of neophobia, or fear of the new.

Either dotting the length of Route 66, or lining the Vegas Strip, neon signs have fascinated Americans for generations; I certainly remember my own experience with them.

I remember the iconic, blazing neon sign that once greeted visitors to a small smoke shop in my hometown. He wore a pink headdress and had a cigarette sticking out of his mouth at an absurd angle; we called him Indian Man, I called him Joe after the man that ran the shop, Joseph.

With a smirk not unlike Jean Picard or Georges Claude, he was the smoke shop’s guardian; a warning to any foolish teenager that thought to trick the wizened owner of the small shop into letting the purchase cigarettes. Not once in over fifty years did they succeed in baffling.

Fast forward to the present day and you won’t find the Indian Man anymore; you won’t even find the building. Instead you’ll find a vacant lot and with further investigation, you will be told rather reluctantly that Ole Joe had to hang up his headdress and is now enjoying retirement in a private collection.

Collecting neon signs; it’s a passion that has endured many years and has grown the more these works of art are phased out to make room for their modern, less illustrious brethren. Most of the collectors grew up with the signs and admit that “nostalgia Americana” [sic] plays a large part in their collecting the signs. Others say that it’s the unique style and construction that appeals to them; others claim that it is the unique colors and age that charms them.

One of the more notable collections is “The Boneyard” (aka The Neon Museum), a Las Vegas based museum dedicated to preserving, renovating, and showcasing neon signs that once graced the main street of Las Vegas. This collection has, as of this posting, over 150 neon signs either showcased or in the process of being refurbished. Not all signs have been lucky though, as many are tossed aside and left for the garbage vehicles.

Walking up to the private collectors’ house, I knocked on the door and was invited inside to gaze once again at Ole Joe. Expecting a rather dim retirement, I was surprised to find that the collector had kept him in pristine shape and plugged in.

Joe was once again being displayed in all his neon glory; only this time he was a guardian of the history of classic Americana – The Neon Sign.

It’s just a sign. Who cares?

Well, we do. And we’re not alone.

The famed “Made in Oregon” sign has stood, in a variety of iterations since 1940. It has represented three different companies. Representing a state University shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Wrong.

The overly-dramatic battle that ensued over ownership of the sign at first glance seemed to be nothing but the University of Oregon with its Portland campus trying to extend its reach and a bunch of old fogeys in a city fearing change. Would it really be a big deal if the University had a sign in Portland? Would it give it that much more of an advantage over Oregon State University? Unlikely. Somehow, amazingly, Phil Knight was kept out of the melodrama. Never fear, though, it all wrapped up neatly.

Why would a simple sign, which was nothing but a corporate tool at its base value elicit such a response from people?

Because it’s neon.

Neon signs hold a special place in people’s hearts. They harken back to a simpler time, to the post-war glory days of the 1950s when America’s prosperity seemed like it was boundless. They remind us of Vegas and chance. They remind us of quaint little family diners. They remind us of childhood.

Growing up as a product of the 90s, I felt that neon signs were still very much a part of branding. Somewhere along the way, without even noticing, they all faded away. The last bastions being strip clubs and pawn shops that were too cheap to upgrade to a more modern sign.

If it had been an unlit steel sign, a backlight picture sign, or if it had never said “Oregon” on it, would it have been as loved by the people of Portland? Its close proximity to a freeway that many people used daily was a reminder of where they are, or where they were leaving.

The sign itself, whether representing educational institution or business— would not have mattered, just as long as we kept something uniquely neon in our rainy medium-sized state; Something that screams Portland to weary travelers passing by. Portland is in the process of putting up a neon rose— I would encourage Portland to put up a barrage of neon signs and make it an unforgettable jewel of the west. Other cities, particularly ones across a certain river, are already doing it.

Sources:

http://ourpdx.com/2008/11/famed-made-in-oregon-sign-to-change/

http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2009/04/compromise_reached_over_made_i.html

http://www.yelp.com/loves/neon-signs

http://www.thinkgeek.com/interests/exclusives/97fd/

http://www.nowpublic.com/culture/neon-returns-vancouver-downtown

The renovations of the Garden have included: new recycling and composting bins, more bike parking, the inclusion of locally made food and drinks, and much, much more. All of this has earned the Garden a Gold Certification level, and made it one of the greenest buildings in all of North America.

The Rose Garden has blazed a new trail for the renovation of buildings both old and new. The reason for all of this drastic renovation and change? The new LEED rating system.

The Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) is aiding the green revolution with just one, noble objective: to promote the global adoption of sustainable green buildings and development practices, and even the oldest and most stubborn structures are following the example of the Rose Garden.

LEED seeks to accomplish this objective through a suite of rating systems that focuseson five key areas: sustainable site development, water savings, energy efficiency, material selection and indoor environmental equality. In a nutshell, LEED recognizes projects that implement strategies for better environmental and health performances.

The program was developed by the U.S. Green Building Council, and it isn’t limited to just new construction projects. Many sites in Oregon, both ancient and contemporary, have been renovated to include the standards that LEED promotes, including: the Rose Garden, the Oregon National Guard Armory, and the Meier and Frank Department Store Building in the heart of Portland.

LEED is leading historic buildings into a new era of sustainability. The Portland National Guard Armory, built in 1891, was recently renovated by the Gerding Edlen Development Company, and with this LEED inspired renovation the Armory received LEED Platinum Certification – the absolute highest level of certification.

The one-hundred year-old Meier and Frank Building in the heart of Portland has even received green renovation, which earned it a Platinum LEED Certification. This is the first building on the National Register of Historic Places to receive both federal historic tax credits and Platinum LEED Certification.

Going green isn’t only for the new. As seen in Portland, Oregon, even the most age-old structures can walk the Garden’s newly blazed trail and contribute to a sustainable and clean future.

-Austin R. Clark

Sources:

1. http://portland.bizjournals.com/portland/stories/2006/11/20/focus2.html

2. http://www.novoco.com/journal/2010/04/news_htc_201004.php

3. http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2010/01/rose_garden_arena_goes_green_w.html

4. http://www.usgbc.org/DisplayPage.aspx?CategoryID=19

5. http://www.usgbc.org/News/USGBCInTheNewsDetails.aspx?ID=4358