Drag club sign vexes gay historical society

  • by Matthew S. Bajko
  • Wednesday March 25, 2009
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It seems fitting that a neon sign for one of San Francisco's most famous drag clubs would be having a diva moment.

But so it goes for the old electric barker for Finocchio's, the long-running revue in North Beach that was home to female impersonators who famously sang, instead of lip-synched, for their adoring audiences.

When the club closed its doors in November 1999, after 63 years of operation, its 17-foot-tall sign spelling out Finocchio's landed in the possession of the GLBT Historical Society. Problem was the sign was too large for the elevator lift at the society's archives and museum space on Mission near Third Street.

It ended up inside an old Navy warehouse known as Building 449 out on Treasure Island that the San Francisco Historical Society had leased to store parts of its collection as well as items for other local nonprofits. There it would likely have remained were it not for the Navy deciding it wanted its building back.

So last fall the city's historical society began vacating the space and gave notice to its gay preservationist counterparts that they would need to relocate the sign.

As of this week, though, the sign hasn't budged. Like a diva refusing her curtain call, the sign is not yet ready for a new stage, um, storage facility.

"We have been trying to figure out where to store it," said Rebekah Kim, the GLBT Historical Society's managing archivist. "Just logistically, it is hard to store."

Kim said she had hoped that the movers hired by the city's historical society would have been able to relocate it to that group's new space in South San Francisco. But the sign proved to be uncooperative.

"It is pretty heavy, though I don't know the actual weight. There were two movers there but they couldn't move it," said Kim. "At the time they said we needed a forklift to move it."

Kristin Morris, a curator for the city's preservationist group, has been slowly going through her organization's collection at the new storage space. She said she should know by late April or May if there will be room or not for the Finocchio's sign.

"I told them I didn't know if we would have space in the new facility because it is smaller, but if we did have space, I would entertain storing the sign for them so it didn't languish," said Morris. "I would say it is probably 50/50 at this time."

The sign is a valuable artifact worth protecting, said Morris.

"Certainly, Finocchio's was a landmark of the gay scene in San Francisco. Things like this really give people a sense of what the place is like in a way paper and photographs can't," she said. "There is something about the physical object that is more compelling to many people than paper and two-dimensional things. The problem with signs like this, and especially neon ones, is they are very hard to display."

Just moving the sign will be a challenge, added Morris.

"Part of it is because of the weight of the thing and as long as it is, there is no way for two people to hoist it. It needs probably a jack that can lift it and put it on pallets on wheels and roll it," she said. "The fine arts moving company we used, they said we should go with a company that specializes in sign moving and installation."

As word has leaked out that the GLBT Historical Society is looking at what to do with the sign, some have voiced concerns that it will prove so vexing that the society will jettison the sign from its collection. But Paul Boneberg, the society's executive director, insisted the sign would not be tossed in the scrap heap.

"The sign is important. We are keeping it safe," said Boneberg, who estimated it would cost between $700 and $1,000 to relocate it.

The sign is the largest object in the society's archive, and one of the most fragile, said Boneberg. Its proportions are so enormous it can't be displayed at this time in either the society's Castro or South of Market galleries.

Should the society ever realize its dream of building a permanent home, it is likely the structure would have to be designed around the sign in order for it to go on public display.

"We would love to one day exhibit it because it is such an important piece and iconic of San Francisco and queer life. That is why we have held on to it for so long," said Kim. "We aren't trying to get rid of it, we're just trying to find a place to store it."

In the meantime, Boneberg said the society is open to loaning it out to another institution that has a space to fit the sign.

"In the museum business people do long-term loans and there may be another facility that is the best place to permanently display this sign," he said. "It is just giant and fragile, so we are struggling with how to do it."

Don't expect to see the sign go up in the old Mint building that the city's historical society is revamping into its new home. Morris said the sign is too large for the space.

"There isn't a ceiling under which it would fit," she said.