By Jonathan Zwickel

ABOUT 150 PEOPLE were on hand June 12 as artist Mona Caron unveiled her latest, larger-than-life wall painting, Market Street Railway Mural, at Church and 15th Streets. A small section of the street corner was roped off, allowing the crowd of friends, neighbors, activists, and artists to gather in the afternoon sun. Several Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence manned the gauzy, colorful veil, handmade by Caron's parents, who flew in from Switzerland to attend the event. After a jubilant group countdown, the veil was removed to much applause.

Taken in from a distance, the luscious colors and perfect perspective of the piece are a visual magnet. Moving a few steps closer reveals detailed historical insight and anecdotal imagery, dense and vivid enough to evoke a swooning Baghdad by the Bay reverie. If the urban circus of Market Street embodies San Francisco, then the mural captures the pulse of the city's main artery and offers an elegant, wall-size lesson in San Francisco life.

The 12-by-38-foot painting is a gently curving bird's-eye view that takes the blocks between Fourth and Seventh Streets as its focal point. As Market extends toward the Ferry Building on the left and Upper Market on the right, bands of transparent colors differentiate eras in San Francisco history. Alternating bands depict important scenes that have taken Market Street as their stage, like the bloody labor riots of 1934, an early Pride Parade, and the massive February '03 peace demonstration. These landmark events are balanced with everyday activities like commuting and shopping.

"I chose these moments that show a radically different use of the public space in a continuum that wouldn't put too much emphasis on one or the other," Caron explains. "The implication is that all of these are things that make the city vibrant, and this is what the street is for."

Caron, 35, knows the importance of community. Born in Locarno, Switzerland, she was raised by artistic parents: her father, especially, was very active in European theater on an international level. Since moving to San Francisco in 1992, she's taken to the streets many times, at the front lines of artistic empowerment movements like Critical Mass and Burning Man as well as in demonstrations like last year's antiwar rally, which she found to be the culmination of intention, action, and location – a passionate and necessary display of public power in a public space.

"Whoever participates in a street demonstration like that comes away with a way to assess the state of their democracy," Caron says. "You see the extent that people take advantage of the freedom they have and what they do with it."

"By documenting the antiwar march with such loving detail, Mona becomes a historian, a newsmaker," says Chris Carlsson, selected as a 1999 Bay Guardian Local Hero for his work with historic preservation group Shaping San Francisco. "She's rendering an event that the powers that be would prefer disappear into an important episode in San Francisco history, worthy of remembering and celebrating."

Carlsson himself shows up in the mural, coming out of the Grant Building at Seventh and Market, home to Shaping San Francisco, the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition, and several other local nonprofits. The Grant Building Tenants Association is an example of grassroots solidarity, having recently organized to overcome forced evictions and shoot down rent increases.

Carlsson is joined on the wall by a collection of the city's most celebrated rabble-rousers, friends of Caron's who were present at the antiwar march. "A lot of it is a personal diary," Caron says. "I didn't really plan it that way, but I do know a lot of people that were there." Members of CELLspace, Bay Area United Against War, and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence are all depicted in the mural. Caron's clever, intimate portrayals have drawn her subjects encouragement.

"There's a million little figures right now," she says, "and they're doing their stuff, but they're caught in the moment, not put up on pedestals. I want to show people that do important actions, almost as part of their daily lives, because they are who they are."

During her thank-you speech at the unveiling, Caron acknowledged many of those key organizations and individuals who, through volunteering time and money, supported her work. These included city activist David Hochschild, who secured a grant from the Neighborhood Beautification Fund, fiscal sponsors SomArts and Counterpulse, event organizer Joel Pomerantz, and the late Dave Pharr of the nonprofit Market Street Railway. Pharr's passion for streetcar mechanics and preservation was one of Caron's primary inspirations, and she had hoped to surprise Pharr, who died last October at 70 years old, with her design. Though he passed away unaware of her project, she told the crowd she was sure "he is watching from wherever he is."

Caron gave a virtual tour of the mural, beginning by pointing out the common thread visible in every era depicted: Market Street Railway's California Comfort Car No. 798, the last of its kind, which Pharr had begun to restore prior to his death. It can be seen traveling the entire length of Market in the mural, from the sepia-toned 1920s side on the left to the last, full-color section on the far right.

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the painting, the far-right panel is a visionary depiction of a not-too-distant future. Caron's outlook is clearly positive and community-based: a public orchard flourishes atop the San Francisco Swapping Center, the After the Deluge Café offers "Free Coffee and Humanities" next door to the Open Source Technology Center, and bridges connect rooftop playgrounds. Solar-powered cars, a biodiesel fire truck, and a steady stream of cyclists course up and down Market, which is intersected by canals, all allowing for low-impact transport of people and goods. Her urban utopia is not so far-fetched; its wide sidewalks and tree-lined medians are modeled after the fully functioning metropolis of Copenhagen.

"The type of future I'm showing is one that makes use of structures that are there, subverting their function and turning them into something else. People were asking me, 'Are you gonna do flying saucers, hovercrafts?' But I was really intent about not making a future that's just about technology. It's not off-the-wall; it's about technology repurposed in a way that everybody participates in."

This feasible, even probable, hope for a sustainable future is apparent in both the mural and Caron's personal philosophy. "I do wish for a radical change in society, but I don't envision it happening in a 'revolution.' " She describes a "peaceful unraveling" of the profit-driven power structure, the enthusiasm of her words tempered by well-thought practicality. "This society could be gradually supplanted by a different one, redundant of the one that exists, being built at the same time. Everyone will do whatever they have to do to survive, but at the same time they could put energy towards building relationships based on different logic. That's what I'm showing in the future section of the mural."

Slyly political, aesthetically appealing, and clearly humanist, the work embodies that subtle shift she describes. "I'm trying to lure people in, people that would not otherwise go out of their way and pay attention to political art. I'm sweetening the pill."

Sophie Engart first saw the mural in progress when she was visiting from her native Germany last November. Now she's returned to the city for good, and she was thrilled to see the finished piece. "I've never seen this kind of art on a wall," she says. "We don't have this in Germany. It's wonderful to see the shared creativity in the public space."

"Look at what she accomplished here," Bill Dunlap says. "She's brought people together and maybe even taught them something. That's what good art is supposed to do."

'Market Street Railway Mural' is at Church and 15th Sts., S.F. For more information go to www.monacaron.com.