Archive for December, 2008

Richmond Arts Flashback: Richard Florida and “Street-Level Art”

Thursday, December 18th, 2008

Richard Florida: “When you think of new forms of artistic and cultural expression, where do they come from? They don’t come from yuppie, gentrified neighborhoods, they come from the streets. And one of the points I try to make in the book is that Arts organizations and cultural organizations, as well as economic development organizations and state and local government, have to get their eyes off the one ball or two balls they know how to focus on. They know how to support the Symphony, the Opera and the Ballet, and in addition build convention centers and stadiums. But what I’m trying to say in the book is that you have to support local-level, street-level creativity. The more investments we make in street-level culture arts, music, writing… not only the more creative that community will be, it will be the kind of community that all sorts of creative sorts will want to move to, and that will be the community that will attract new innovations… new companies.”

This installment of the Richmond Arts Flashback shines a spotlight on the arts as a vibrant and complex economic engine. And what better way to do that than to re-introduce Richard Florida, the man who put “street-level art” into the lexicon along with the term, “Creative Class.”

It’s interesting how many times those phrases, and Florida’s name, have been bandied about over the past half-decade — not least during Richmond’s last Mayoral election, where no fewer than three of the candidates cited him by name (including our current Mayor-elect). Dr. Florida has been a popular reference point for local politicians and movers and shakers ever since his much-ballyhooed appearance in 2003; his buzzphrases have been dropped into the public conversation over the past years to justify everything from new condos to a downtown arts center to the latest coffeehouse opening up down the street.

These days, Florida is the head of the Martin Prosperity Institute at the University of Toronto, and he has his own consulting and lecturing firm, the Creative Class Group. He’s written several books on his theories of the economic revitalization of cities. and has often argued against the building of huge cultural centers and sports stadiums in lieu of fostering a diverse, inclusive community where new ideas and voices can more easily “plug in.” His prescriptions include encouraging an indigenous, organic “street-level” arts and music scene — galleries, restaurants, clubs, coffeehouses — and emphasizing quality of life issues such as the cultivation of green space, bike lanes and parks.

Save Richmond has been intigued by the good doctor’s work ever since we started blogging five years ago, but we’re equally as intrigued by his critics. Steven Malanga, in a piece called “The Curse of the Creative Class,” warned that Florida’s theories were often so open-ended that they could be used to justify almost anything “artistic.” Little ol’ towns like Richmond can easily hear one visiting lecture and get confused something awful:

It is exactly because Florida is an exponent of this kind of aggressive, government-directed economic development (albeit with a New Age spin) that liberal policymakers and politicians have latched on to his theories so enthusiastically. To them, an expanding government is always more interesting than an expanding economy — especially if economic growth depends on something so very uninteresting as low taxes and small government. But it is just as likely that the Floridazed brand of aggressive governing will get things as wrong as the builders of sports stadiums and convention centers.

One clear example of how things are likely to go wrong is in Richmond, Virginia, where the city fathers and local economic-development types (touting Florida’s ideas) are trying to revive their downtown by making it a trendy arts district. To finance its efforts, the town recently passed a restaurant tax and is now contemplating raising its hotel taxes — to the howls of local businesses. “They haven’t figured out that those tax increases will probably kill as many jobs as their plan will create,” says Scott Moody, a senior economist with the Tax Foundation.

At a time when the arts community is alternately tallying up surveys for cultural action plans and taking huge funding hits… at a time when citizens are debating another baseball stadium proposal in Shockoe and watching our community-led Downtown Plan get watered down by development interests… and while we are all waiting for some “seriously secretive fun” with the Symphony, Opera and Ballet… we might want to revisit the words of Richard Florida and make sure we’ve got them right before we use him as a reference point for any of this stuff. Don’t you think?

In 2003, I wrote a Back Page for Style Weekly following Richard Florida’s local appearance and noted how he and Richmond weren’t exactly a natural fit. An excerpt:

The Jan. 31 speech prompted advance newspaper ads that sought personal stories from Richmond’s “gays, rock bands and weirdoes.” All to satisfy the visiting keynote speaker, a professor of regional economic development at Carnegie-Mellon University and in-demand social planner. Richard Florida has isolated an emerging sector of societal movers and shakers in America — the creative class — and citizens like these, normally shunned or ignored by powerful business consortiums, are an integral part of the professor’s theories on city revitalization.

Inside the newly-renovated Greater Richmond Convention Center, at the region’s annual business meeting, Florida laid out his findings. “I feel a little bit like a preacher,” he laughed after one particularly breathless monologue that argued for more emphasis on bike paths, music scenes and gay tolerance and less on big downtown renovation projects.

The sermon was based not on platitudes but on carefully-calibrated data and numerous real-world examples, all documented in “The Rise of the Creative Class” (Basic Books). Florida’s research shows that flourishing cities — Austin, San Francisco, Boston — have “low entry barriers” where visionary entrepreneurs (like, say, former “weirdo” Bill Gates) can plug in easily. Successful cities share common traits but Florida doesn’t just isolate the phenomenon, he instructs cities on how to lure and keep creative talent. Out: Fake downtowns, mall-like structures and closed-door environments. In: tolerant, eclectic places that hold a range of recreational options, lifestyles and cultures.

Pacing and bobbing, well-armed with anecdotes, preaching inclusion and diversity, Florida did come off like a preacher. He’d done this before. And with the wide-eyed sincerity of a repentant Sunday morning pew, there was rapture from the distinguished Richmond congregation. Heads nodded, books were sold, and everyone — from successful businessmen to the mayor himself — concurred enthusiastically during the Q&A period: “Yes, Professor”… “Where do we throw money?”… “What ideas!”… “Tolerance”… local music!”

Apparently, Southern hospitality was at a premium. Matching key points in the professor’s presentation with Richmond reality — before and after the applause — a sensible person would have to wonder if this crowd really understood what they were clapping for.

Click here to read my essay on Richard Florida’s appearance in Richmond, “Contemplating Petersburg.”

Read an excerpt from Richard Florida’s book, “The Rise of the Creative Class,” right here. And you can visit his “Creative Class” website by clicking on this spot.

And how about the avalanche of cultural avatars and consultants that followed in Florida’s wake, echoing his themes that Richmond needed to actively encourage its community arts scene and to open up to new voices? By clicking here, you can meet these enlightened visitors, re-visit their words and be introduced to “The Richmond Paradox.”

For a contrary view, read Steven Malanga’s thoughtful critique of Richard Florida’s theories, “The Curse of the Creative Class,” right here.

Still can’t understand why hiring that freaky goth kid with the earring might just save your company, and also help to bring better coffee options and more high-tech industries to your immediate area? Click here to read this new Arts and Humanities Research Council report on the arts and innovation.

Richmond’s establishment isn’t the only one wrestling with (or namedropping) Richard Florida’s theories. Click here and read about the Milwaukee Cultural Alliance, and how their “Cultural Action Plan” has ignored community, street-level art at its peril:

The Cultural Alliance, whose job it is to “strengthen, advance and represent the arts and culture sector as an essential asset for growing a vibrant, attractive region” is either unwilling to challenge Milwaukee’s obsolete establishment or else they aren’t even aware of how the creative class relates to economic growth. They focus all their attention on…big organizations, as though these are the only existing relevant cultural assets, when, in reality from the creative class perspective, they are the least relevant.

In the next series of posts, Save Richmond’s Richmond Arts Flashback, will document the city’s rich and colorful history of community “street-level art,” including several of today’s successful examples. And it’s all in anticipation of Richmond’s forthcoming “Cultural Action Plan.”

Previous installments of the Flashback can be found here, here, here and here

Richmond Arts Flashback: Whatever Happened to TheatreVirginia?

Wednesday, December 10th, 2008

Is it a comedy or a drama?

It was a sad day in the history of Richmond performing arts when the venerable, 47-year-old TheatreVirginia closed its doors.

TheatreVirginia (which was housed inside the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts) began as The Virginia Museum Theatre way back in 1955. Nearly twenty years later, it had joined the League of Resident Theatres (LORT) and established itself as Richmond’s preeminent professional playhouse. In 1984, it split off from the Museum (and state oversight) even though it contained to maintain its home inside the VFMA’s complex.

Over time, as with many worthy arts endeavors that refuse to change with the times, the once-popular organization found itself mired in patronage politics, static formula and artistic conservatism — traits that would earn it a rep as a “country club theatre,” and an institution more concerned with being inoffensive (no David Mamet spoken here, thanks!) than in being relevant.

TheatreVirginia’s eventual flameout in 2002 was one of the most thoroughly reported arts stories of the day — especially in Style Weekly. In the months before, and after, its closing, Style’s arts writers outdid themselves with both news stories and commentary that gave the inside dope on how and why Richmond’s longest-running playhouse went belly up. [Full disclosure: I contribute the occasional feature and back page essay to Style.] The weekly tabloid was also where the arts community and theatre subscribers (new and old) expressed their feelings on TheatreVirginia’s closing in numerous letters to the editor.

As the magazine’s Edwin Slipek Jr. reported in Dec. 2002 feature titled “Left Behind”:

TheatreVirginia wanted it both ways. The board wanted intellectual and institutional freedom without giving up the financial benefits and considerable amenities of the venerable, state-owned museum. So trustees clung to the museum — and benefited. The theater paid only modest rents and utility fees. The Virginia Museum Foundation made financial grants regularly. And few could argue with free surface parking, good security, two restaurants and on-site scenery- and costume- building shops.

But that arrangement would have to change soon. The museum wanted to grow.

In 1999, museum trustee Paul Mellon died. A legendary philanthropist, he had been one of the theater’s biggest backers and had financed the theater’s construction in 1955. Now, the museum no longer feared offending him. Armed with ambitious expansion plans, the museum needed the TheatreVirginia space.

But like a comfortable child who won’t leave home, TheatreVirginia put its head in the sand. Despite searches, no location measured up to the cushy status quo.

“The Virginia Museum should have kicked us out four years ago,” says one volunteer who has ushered for decades at the theater. “We’ve been in denial,” he adds, referring to the eviction notice the theater has had from the museum.

But that wasn’t the only problem. While TheatreVirginia searched for a new home, it became apparent to some that the company had neither a compelling artistic vision nor a board that could shake, rattle and roll with fund-raising. They were behind compared with other groups. The Richmond Ballet had opened a world-class facility; the Richmond Symphony had spearheaded the Carpenter Center; Theater IV had converted the Empire Theater; and the Virginia Opera had broadened its season greatly. Many of our community’s take-no-prisoners go-getters had joined these efforts.

Since the theater’s split from the state in 1984, its board has been peppered with current or former trustees of the art museum (all political appointees). Some of them were stuck in the past, nostalgic for the days before the theater was a professional company. They talked about how wonderful Robert Telford, the founding artistic director, had been. And they assumed TheatreVirginia would be at least partially subsidized in perpetuity. Fund-raising was never a priority; ticket sales would create the cash flow.

But theater, like all performing and visual arts, must be subsidized heavily (this fall, the chairman of the New York’s Guggenheim Museum donated $12 million just to put the museum in the black). And when it came to coming up with the dough, the theater board either didn’t or couldn’t. The reported $500,000 deficit (and that’s probably a low figure) reflects years of ineffective fund-raising.

Every artistic director who came in was set up for failure: edgy outsiders versus the old guard who remembered the good old days. The artistic director was expected to produce shows that would be box-office hits (not necessarily the finest or best theater choice for that season or this community).

The excuse from TheatreVirginia board members was that the theatre closed down because it couldn’t hold on long enough to be one of the anchor tenants in Richmond’s planned Performing Arts Center.

Slipek wasn’t sure about that, and said as much in his piece:

It could trade the bosom of the Virginia Museum for the comfort of the new center. But what would it bring to the table? No cash, a shrinking patron base and no strong tradition of an artistic vision.

And if moving downtown was such a swell idea, why hadn’t TheatreVirginia spearheaded restoration of the National Theater building in collaboration with Historic Richmond Foundation? It could have been a sexy situation with tremendous private and public support. Sure, the historic building had limitations, but a second stage and shops could have been built elsewhere.

But no. Why would TheatreVirginia give up its country club setting for the grit of the northeast corner of Broad and Seventh streets? Never mind that in Norfolk, the Virginia Stage Company seems to be doing quite nicely in its renovated Wells Theater downtown.

Theatergoers and potential patrons have obviously voted no to TheatreVirginia’s lack of vision and institutional wishy-washiness. The befuddled brew of artistry, show-biz and politics, seasoned heavily with old-line Richmond conservatism, should bewitch, bother and bewilder us no more. Other troupes passed it in the fast lane: The Firehouse Theatre Company, the Modlin Center for the Arts, The Triangle Players and Broadway shows at the Carpenter offer theatrical excitement and diversity. There is a rich theater tradition that exists here.

The man in the crossfire at the time of TheatreVirginia’s closing was Benny Sato Ambush, its final artistic director. From the start, Ambush, an African-American, was criticized for presenting more “relevant,” cutting-edge productions than TheatreVirginia’s more established patrons and conservative board of directors were used to. He was also roundly criticized by some for making public pleas that announced the theatre’s dire financial sitation; he earned the ire of some leaders, and the Richmond Free Press, for trying to solicit the city’s black community to come out and support the struggling playhouse in its final days. The horror!

Months before the company’s final production, Style contributor D.L. Hintz wrote about the challenges that Ambush was facing as he attempted to re-tool and re-brand the financially-strapped theatre company. Here is an excerpt from that May 2002 piece, titled “Staging a Revolution”:

When its lease at the Virginia Museum expires in two years, [TheatreVirginia] will need to move to a new facility, a move bound to cost a pretty penny. To try to energize the company to face these challenges, Ambush is promoting a new artistic vision that he hopes will draw a bigger and broader audience into the theater. “I think we had an image that was exclusive, elitist,” says Ambush. “We are making a conscious attempt to tell the community that the doors are open to everybody.”

This inclusive vision involves plays that are more challenging with casts that are more diverse than what has traditionally been seen on the TVa stage. When Ambush, who is African-American, added a production of the “urban” drama “Crumbs from the Table of Joy” to a season that already included the Harlem-based musical “Bubbling Black Sugar,” he faced criticism that he was focusing on “black plays.” Ambush’s response is pointed: “Two out of the six plays we did last season came out of the African-American culture. How sad that people may think that is too many in a city where 58 percent of the population is black. All I’m asking is that people make room at the table for their neighbors.”

The hubbub over Ambush’s artistic vision has tended to obscure the practical business steps he has taken to address the theater’s debt. Many of the changes he made to last year’s season were implemented to reduce costs. He has planned a shorter 2002-03 season of five productions (not the usual six) that will require smaller casts, fewer musicians and less elaborate designs. Overall, the TVa budget for next year includes 18 fewer actor and musician contracts than this year’s.

In his stormy two-year stint with the company, Benny Sato Ambush had inherited a Theatre that was on its last legs, both artistically and financially. Let the record show that he attempted to address all of the key concerns during his brief time with the company. And in a Feb. 2003 profile of Ambush, “Behind the Curtain,” Style’s Carrie Nieman suggested that he had been unfairly set up as the fall guy in TheatreVirginia’s demise:

Ambush arrived with what he believed was a “mandate to change.” His mantra to theatergoers was to take a leap of faith with him “because I took a leap of faith to come here.” But his attempts failed to get much feedback. “[Much] of it was of a supportive nature; I just think that was a missed opportunity for people to engage with me and to participate in the future of the new theater.”

Ambush said he was frustrated by the lack of response he got; his attempts at “community dialogues” failed. “Nobody would speak their mind,” he says. He also says that little of the response was direct, “most of those were in letters and phone messages — the worst, the nasty ones were anonymous.”

Nieman had earlier reported on the effect that TheatreVirginia’s demise would have on the city’s theatre scene. In a Dec. 2002 piece called “The Next Act”, she seemed to conclude that the venerable theatre company might have had a chance if knowledgable local arts authorities with a proven record of success had been in charge of the front office rather than the business community reps who were then manning TVa’s board of directors.

Predictably, the board members didn’t agree with this conclusion. An excerpt:

Richmond’s theater community is talking about a replacement [for TheatreVirginia]. Some eyes are on Bruce Miller and Phil Whiteway.

In the summer of 2001, the Theatre IV co-founders partnered with the Barksdale Theatre to help pull that organization out of debt. In just two years, they successfully reduced the Barksdale’s debt by more than half and today it’s the closest thing Richmond has to a professional theater.

Was the same offer given to TheatreVirginia in its final days? Miller, Theatre IV’s artistic director, declines to say.

“I love that theater,” he says. “Do I wish that we could have played a role in keeping it alive? Sure, but that doesn’t mean that I have anything negative to say about the way [TheatreVirginia's board of directors] handled the situation. I’m supportive of their decision. I don’t know what they faced.”

Theodore W. Price, president of TheatreVirginia’s board, says he doesn’t want to talk about whether Miller offered to come to TheatreVirginia’s aid, but that joining with Theatre IV/Barksdale wouldn’t have been a practical solution anyway. “The problem with combining with Theatre IV is that they have no money either,” he says. “In terms of the space, they really have no space.”

Undoubtedly, one of the largest problems TheatreVirginia was facing was that it had no space of its own. In 1997, the board knew it was going to be kicked out of its rented space in the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in 2003 to make room for museum expansion plans.

But they had no luck finding a suitable venue despite an exhaustive search, board member Tom Topinka says.

“We could have cobbled together a few shows, but it would not have been anyplace we could have called our home and not of the quality you would have needed to have,” Price says.

After 2003, TheatreVirginia would have been homeless for four years until 2007, when it planned to move into the Virginia Performing Arts Complex downtown. In summer 2002, the board announced that the theater would go dark for the years in the interim. And now after 47 years, the theater will go dark permanently.

Brad Armstrong, president and CEO of the Virginia Performing Arts Foundation, says he isn’t surprised. It was no secret that TheatreVirginia was hurting, he says. And it was no secret the theater was planning to close for a a couple of years at the end of this season.

“Whatever would have come back from TheatreVirginia would have been very different than what it has been,” he says. “We have always known that we were going to go through this phase of re-crafting the professional theater” of Richmond, he says.

For a professional theater to succeed in Richmond, Armstrong says, it must have an appropriate facility (i.e. the Performing Arts Complex) and savvy business leaders (i.e., it can’t be led by artistic vision).

Which brings us back to Miller and Whiteway, whose careful strategic planning — not to mention haggling — dug Barksdale out of trouble.

In the end, employees and theatre insiders blamed the TheatreVirginia board of directors — a group of politically-appointed bigwigs with little or no background in the performing arts — and not Benny Ambush. The community at large pointed fingers too. One longtime patron expressed his frustrations in a Jan. 2003 letter to Style:

Only a month before closing, TheatreVirginia told the subscribers that it would complete the current season and produce a shortened season next year, at the current venue. They urged the subscribers to ignore all the negative rumors and get their friends and relatives to purchase subscriptions. One month later, they announced that not only would there be no productions next season, they were canceling all the remaining shows of this season. And, there would be no refunds.

If the board knew the theater was in imminent danger of collapse (and how could they not know) this comes close to fraud. In my book, that is right up there with Enron, Arthur Anderson and WorldCom.

The disgruntled subscriber’s Enron comparison was apt. One of the TheatreVirginia board members — TVa’s liasion to the Virginia Performing Arts Foundation — was a former Enron associate named Robert Mooney. Longtime Save Richmonders need no introduction to Robert “Bob” Mooney, the current vice-chairman of the Centerstage Foundation and the dude who would go on to (anonymously) draft the revised arts center proposal for Mayor Wilder’s performing arts committee. You know the proposal — the one that sees the city paying out even more money than it would have in the Foundation’s original failed plan, getting less in return and then shielding from taxpayers how the money will be spent. That one.

How is any of that relevant to Richmond’s forthcoming Cultural Action Plan, you ask? If you are an independent arts administrator counting your pennies, you already know the answer: Mr. Mooney’s latest cultural venture will — in its current form — suck up most, if not all, available public arts dollars for the next 99 years!

Score another one for our “savvy” business leaders and their hands-on stewardship of the local arts community.

… and there is a frustrating postscript to the TheatreVirginia story, one that should give area artists and serious patrons a window of insight into how closely our government officials pay attention to the local arts scene. Given the public controversies surrounding the theatre’s demise at the time, and the excellent behind-the-scenes reporting of events, it was a wee bit upsetting — and mighty telling — when, at one of the last mayoral debates before the November election, our future Mayor-elect Dwight Jones thought that TheatreVirginia was still up and running.

Obviously the incoming hizzoner needs to do a little remedial reading. And the rest of us too:

Here is D.L. Hintz’s excellent May 2002 piece on TheatreVirginia’s final season, “Staging a Revolution.”

Read Edwin Slipek Jr.’s perceptive Dec. 2002 article on the company’s board of directors, “Left Behind,” by clicking right here.

Click here to read Carrie Nieman’s post-mortem, “The Next Act,” published in Dec. 2002.

You can take a look at “Behind the Curtain,” Nieman’s 2003 profile of Benny Sato Ambush, right here.

And Save Richmond’s previous installments of the Richmond Arts Flashback can be found here, here and here.

This series of historical reminders seeks to provide some context to Richmond’s forthcoming Cultural Action Plan… because the past is prologue to the future, whether we want to learn from it or not.

Next up: Takin’ it to the streets.

Richmond Arts Flashback: “The Earl of Chesterfield”

Sunday, December 7th, 2008

The Earl

In Save Richmond’s previous installment of the Richmond Arts Flashback, we threw a spotlight on James Branch Cabell’s timeless essay, “Mr. Ritchie’s Richmond,” which traced the dysfunctional relationship between local artists and the city’s well-heeled arts overseers back to the 19th century.

In 2003, then-Richmond Times-Dispatch arts writer Clarke Bustard wrote an “accidental update” of Cabell’s screed that went even further back in time, evoking the words of Philip Dormer Stanhope, the fourth Earl of Chesterfield, who had offered this advice to his son in 1749:

“If you love music, hear it; go to operas, concerts and pay fiddlers to play to you; but I insist upon your neither piping nor fiddling yourself. It puts a gentleman in a very frivolous, contemptible light; brings him into a great deal of bad company; and takes up a great deal of time, which might be much better employed.”

To say that Bustard pulled no punches in this piece would be quite the understatement. As Bette Davis would say, “strap yourselves in.” Here is an excerpt from this incendiary arts column of May 11, 2003, titled, “The Earl of Chesterfield”:

What signals might we look for to see that… the downtown developers are really serious about a new emphasis on the arts?

How about these?

Through zoning, property purchases or other measures, city authorities actively recruit artists as residents, making sure that galleries, studios, and rehearsal and living spaces are retained when real-estate values begin to rise — rather than using artists like canaries in a coal mine, to see whether derelict neighborhoods can be made fit for high-dollar restoration.

The city begins to treat nightclubs, alternative galleries and other independent performance spaces as cultural assets rather than safety hazards, dens of iniquity or threats to public order.

Money, especially privately contributed money, begins to flow to performing artists rather than to buildings in which they will perform. How many of the people trying to raise $100 million for the Virginia Center for the Performing Arts would join a campaign to raise $100 million in endowment funds for the groups using the center — funds that would enable them to pay their artists truly professional salaries?

The city establishes, perhaps through the existing arts programs at VCU, conservatory-grade secondary and higher education in the fine and performing arts.

Unlikely? You bet.

About as unlikely as the male scion of one of Richmond’s better families, one of those fellows whose name begins with an initial and ends with a Roman numeral, making a name for himself as a concert pianist or a painter without being disowned by his clan.

The Earl of Chesterfield wouldn’t mind ponying up to build a theater, but he wouldn’t tolerate his offspring hanging out with all those artists downtown.

Yow!

I refer to this on-target essay as “accidental” because, after writing all of this, Bustard inexplicably became one of the chief apologists for the Virginia Performing Arts Foundation (VAPAF) — which, even today, under its current disguise as “the CenterStage Foundaton,” or “RPAC,” has few, if any, artists, arts professionals or arts administrators in positions of authority.

Two years after he wrote ‘The Earl of Chesterfield,” Bustard could be found inexplicably damning critics — forgetting that he himself was one of the earliest and most prominent — who dared to question an arts center plan that looked more like a real estate deal designed to boost the neighboring property values of rich Foundation board members than a worthy, arts-first initiative. It is a matter of public record that the original VAPAF proposal led to a $10 million hole in the ground, and wound up putting the city’s preeminent arts companies in a perilous financial situation.

Instead of righteously noting all of this, Bustard began penning unquestioning love notes to the Foundation, and forgot his earlier suggestions that the arts center’s well-heeled proponents (the “social descendants” of the Earl of Chesterfield) give their money directly to the city’s struggling arts companies. He trained his ire on critics of the Foundation, like Save Richmond, for daring to make the same arguments he himself had once made.

In the June 15, 2005 edition of the T-D, the man who criticized arts patrons “whose name begins with an initial and ends with a Roman numeral” wrote:

“Those who’ve made the debate over the performing arts center an exercise in generational and class conflict will come to regret this tactic.”

Uh-huh.

Click here and read Clarke Bustard’s original essay, “The Earl of Chesterfield.”

… and don’t forget the first installment in SR’s new Richmond Arts Flashback series, “Salvage Work.” With this series, we hope to provide some context for Richmond’s forthcoming Cultural Action Plan… because those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

Next up: Whatever happened to TheatreVirginia?

Richmond Arts Flashback: “Mr. Cabell’s Richmond”

Friday, December 5th, 2008

Mr. Cabell Let Me Lie by JBC

This week’s Style Weekly has a cover article by Edwin Slipek Jr. on Richmond’s “forgotten” literary figures. Included in this feature is an overview of the life and career of James Branch Cabell (1879-1958), who became famous in the early days of the 20th century for penning the only Octodecalogy — an 18 volume epic — in American writing.

As Slipek’s piece reminds us, Cabell’s ambitious 50-book bibliography is too seldom thumbed these days. The good man’s name may grace the main library at Virginia Commonwealth University, only blocks from where he was born and where he died, but few beyond academics and Richmond history buffs have committed Cabell’s elaborately plotted, floridly metaphorical, quaintly erotic prose to memory. Today, he’s best known for coining a Quote Book mainstay about the difference between optimism and pessimism — not as the author of books such as Jurgen and These Restless Heads.

Cabell’s chief relevance today may lie in his powers as a social critic… one who focused an unflinching eye on the constrictive relationship between Richmond arts and letters and its business community, a dysfunctional association that he traced back to the days of Edgar Allan Poe.

In this second installment of our new series, “Richmond Arts Flashback,” we take a look at James Branch Cabell’s writing on this ever-timely subject. If you think Save Richmond is hard on today’s business leaders for their heavy-handed “patronage,” you ain’t read Cabell. In 2006, I wrote a piece for RVA Magazine that highlighted the good man’s devastating essay on the subject, “Mr. Ritchie’s Richmond.”

[Fans of irony will no doubt note my passing criticism of the Arts Council's Arts and Cultural Consortium. I'm now a member of that politically-appointed body thanks to the wild sense of humor of outgoing "maverick" L. Douglas Wilder. Thanks Doug!]

An excerpt from my RVA piece, which I titled “Mr. Cabell’s Richmond”:

If you are familiar with the other side of James Branch Cabell — the social critic of Richmond who never flinched from calling it like he saw it — you know that he had plenty of quotable bon mots in his repertoire. His book, The Rivets in Grandfather’s Neck, serenely explores contemporary Virginia life. And Let Me Lie, Cabell’s “ethnological account of the remarkable Commonwealth of Virginia” is a satiric achievement worthy of a Southern H.L. Mencken (the thought!); filled with observations that reveal a proud son’s optimism alongside the cursings of a pessimist who knows his hometown all too goddamn well. The book (reprinted by the University Press of Virginia) more than just holds up as a gloriously colorful rant — its stinging criticisms offer up a window of clarity on today’s Virginia.

In his tome, Cabell hones in on such topics as the dominating influence of the Negro nanny on white culture… the shallow tourism of Colonial Williamsburg… unproved myths of the Confederacy… and the sad state of Virginia arts and letters.

It is with the latter subject that this grandson of a former Virginia governor, a well-bred man of literature, scores his most prescient bullseyes. He points his unwavering finger at the Virginia gentlemen, many in his own class, who condescend to the arts, who don’t understand the arts, who wouldn’t be caught dead associating with artists or their ilk, but who nevertheless, for centuries, have been self-appointed as the gatekeepers of the arts.

“(Richmond’s) professional men and our business men have always been the custodians of our culture,” he writes. “The main, the official, promotion of every humane art has been entrusted, without fail to this or the other coterie of highly estimable tax payers in the higher brackets who, despite their many virtues, know very little, or else precisely nothing, about that special art that was their protegee.

Go here and read the entire piece.

… and here is the first installment in SR’s new Richmond Arts Flashback series, “Salvage Work.” We are running this series in honor of Richmond’s forthcoming Cultural Action Plan… because you don’t know where you’re going if you don’t know where you’ve been.

Richmond Arts Flashback: “Salvage Work”

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

Masonic Building on Broad

A real estate deal that exploits local artists in order to prop up downtown property values… Grand plans for a downtown arts district that go nowhere… Historic Richmond landmarks taken over by developers… “Street level” artists sent packing by the city while insiders get sweetheart deals…

If you think I’m talking about CenterStage, think again.

Nearly a quarter century ago, Richmond’s arts controversy centered around Richmond’s Masonic Temple building, erected in 1888 and situated across the street from the Empire Theatre on Broad Street. Today, this venerable R-Town landmark has been converted into a conference center with accompanying apartments and businesses. But, once, it was the vibrant and creative heart of Richmond’s visual arts scene.

Welcome to our new “Richmond Arts Flashback” series. In honor of the Cultural Action Plan that is currently being developed by the city’s arts companies and the consulting company WolfBrown, Save Richmond will be taking a look back over the next few weeks — sometimes a long and quite painful look back — at Richmond’s fractured, sometimes-contentious, often-controversial relationship with its artists and grassroots arts community.

In this first installment, we present a feature article written in 1984 for the now-defunct magazine, Commonwealth, by writer Jeannette M. Knapp. The title is “Salvage Work: After the Arts District Bomb.”

You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll say to yourself: “How can a place that claims to value history keep making the same mistakes over and over again.”

Please note the optimistic paragraph about visual artists fleeing to Shockoe Bottom and finally finding a so-called safe haven — as we know, the Shockoe Bottom Arts Center was later forced to re-locate to Petersburg, where many of Richmond’s former visual artists are now helping that neighboring city (ta-da!) revitalize its downtown. No one from city hall, or the local business community, lifted a finger to try and help them stay — they were too busy with new bigwig-led Broad Street revitalization schemes. And that’s where Save Richmond came in.

The more things change…

The article begins:

What started as a new frontier for the arts in Richmond ended up as a cultural Hiroshima for a significant block of Broad Street. The Empire Theatre has been closed since January. Nearby buildings are boarded up and covered with posters warning of a Second Coming. Across the street, the doors to the Masonic Temple building, once the center for much of the influential art activity in the city, are padlocked.

The Temple’s padlocked doors have been all too symbolic of the wall that went up between artists and art officials in Richmond in the aftermath of the Arts District debacle, which caused the eviction of over 20 artists from the Temple building to make way for the grand plan.

Until now, the artists have not talked publicly about the Temple building eviction. Now that they are talking, it becomes very clear that the Arts District bomb created more fallout than a block of empty buildings. It divided artists and arts officials, and the groups are just now patching things up.

When the city purchased the Temple building for $175,000 in 1981 and donated it to the Arts District Foundation, its primary interest was in stabilizing a blighted area of Broad Street. Already in place was the Empire Theatre complex, which had been used for dances, concerts and plays since 1977. The Temple building was to have been converted into a facility with studios, galleries, rehearsal space, workshops, offices, a theater and a performing arts high school. Lofts, apartments, restraurants and shops were envisioned in the old Richmond Dairy and adjacent properties. The Arts District would attract tourists and spur improvement of neighboring Jackson Ward, it was hoped. It fit perfectly into the city’s plan for downtown revitalization.

But instead of being incorporated into the Arts District, the 20-plus artists were forced out after a city inspector declared that their presence in the Temple building was a violation of city code.

It is likely the artists would have been forced out anyway. Revitalization to the city is gentrification to artists. Jerry Donato, a Virginia Commonwealth University faculty member and former Temple building occupant, remarks, “The Arts District was a real estate deal to bring up property values, and they were using artists to do it.” To say the artists felt used would be extreme understatement.

The artists fled Broad Street for new quarters, many in Shockoe Bottom, where they may be shielded, ironically, by lack of a flood wall. Developers who have followed their lead into other sections of the city — subsequently upping property values and forcing the artists out — aren’t likely to try to turn the unprotected Shockoe Bottom into another trendy Shockoe Slip.

The paranoia about dislocation is not a thin wash. “It’s like Soho,” explains artist Daniel Brisbane. “Artists discovered it and it was a great place to work in. Now it’s unaffordable, full of shops and restaurants. The same thing happened here. Artists discovered the Fan, the Bowers Coffee Building and the Masonic Temple building and were chased out by developers.”

Now there is no Arts District and the Temple building sits empty; the city is trying to sell it. The artists still lament its loss. Studios as large as 40 feet by 60 feet — enough space for several artists to share — could be had in the Temple building for as little as $108 a month. With 14-foot ceilings, artists had the important option of working with large canvases, says artist and former occupant Jane Sandelin.

The building certainly had its problems, but the artists seemed more than willing to trade comfort for the freedom of space. In the catalogue to an Anderson Gallery exhibit entitled, “Alumni of the Masonic Temple,” artist Glenda Miller Creamer comments: “Despite thirty degree temperatures in the winter, falling plaster, clogged toliets, derelicts and debris… it was a forum for the exchange of ideas.” And Holly Sears writes: “Inherent to the building was an atmosphere conductive to productivity as well as mutual support from fellow artists, a rare find outside of the academic circle in this city.”

For the artists, a final straw in the Arts District bungling was a perception that the Arts District Foundation was favoring performing artists over visual artists, because actors, musicians and dancers are capable of attracting paying audiences and generating more revenue than painters or sculptors. “The Masonic Temple was sold out from under the artists by the people who were supposed to be supporting them,” says David E. Thompson, an artist who now serves on the Board of Directors of the Arts Council.

Blanketing the entire controversy was a dispute over the very concept of the Arts District: The professional artists deplored the intended commercialization of the area and felt serious art could not be produced in a tourist trap. The Arts Council argues that the retail component was necessary to the economic viability of the district.

While it seemed the Arts Council had done everything right — researched the project, hired consultants, formed an independent foundation to implement its plans, secured a commitment from the city and funds from CSX Corporation — everything that could have gone wrong did.

Read “Salvage Work” right here.