Categories
Arts

Downtown warehouse has a colorful history

Sandwiched between South Street and some train tracks, the Pink Warehouse has stored various things throughout its 105 years: wholesale food for the Albemarle Grocery Co.; tools for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway; imagination.

In 1983, Roulhac and Ben Toledano—an author of architectural history books and a Southern literature-loving lawyer—bought the abandoned building. They renovated it, raised four children in it, and eventually, accidentally, transformed it into a storied creative mecca.

Today, the building holds a few different apartments and offices, and Roulhac says that while she has no rule about renting to artists, “they just come.” And if they’re not creative when they move in, they are before they leave.

The building is perhaps most famous as the site where, in 1991, the newly-formed Dave Matthews Band played its first official gig on the warehouse roof to a couple dozen people.

Matthews’ manager, Ross Hoffman, rented the bedroom next to Roulhac’s, and Matthews used to sit on the floor with his guitar and play his songs. Roulhac heard him through the wall.

Artist John Owen lived there, too, and, reportedly threw memorable parties after Live Arts productions.

C-VILLE Weekly rented space in the Pink Warehouse in the 1990s. Roulhac has written a number of books there, and she’s exhibited Edward Thomas’ paintings in her living room. In the late 2000s, John Noble and Dee Dee Bellson opened BON Café, a music venue/art gallery/coffee shop in the building. Bellson is the daughter of actress and singer Pearl Bailey and Louie Bellson (Duke Ellington’s drummer), and a well-known jazz singer in her own right. The Tom Tom Founders Festival offices are in there now, and a few apartments remain upstairs.

Until recently, Lauren and Daniel Goans of folk duo Lowland Hum lived in a studio that was once Roulhac’s library, and still contains floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with hundreds of books on every topic imaginable. Lauren says that living among these books fueled creativity, including the writing and recording of a new record, Glyphonic. “It was one of our favorite creative seasons to date,” she says. Due to the nearby parking lot and morning commute traffic, “we had to wake up at 4am to get in enough quiet hours for recording each day. I will never forget Daniel playing guitar in the pitch dark before anyone around us was up.”

“People thought we were crazy to buy the warehouse,” says Roulhac. But perhaps, in a stroke of inspiration that’s come to define the place since, the Toledanos saw something that others did not.

Categories
News Opinion

A moral map: The city budget is a chance to show what matters to us

It’s budget season. For four months every year, council and staff hold public meetings about the coming year’s priorities. For four months, I sit through what I am absolutely certain is the exact same PowerPoint at least a dozen times. Much of it remains inscrutable to me. I am growing comfortable with the idea that I’ll never be entirely sure what it means in the real world to move money around on paper. What I do understand, though, is that the city, like most of us, can’t pay for everything it wants.

“The city has better ways of getting income,” Joan Fenton, president of the Downtown Business Association of Charlottesville, said at a March 4 council meeting of the possibility of raising tax rates. Better ways than taxation? Localities too afraid to raise taxes (because of the ire of business owners like Fenton) often rely on fees and fines to increase revenue. That means raising court costs and turning the city into a speed trap to fill the holes in our budget, which would disproportionately impact the poor. It is regressive and unreliable and relies on a weaponized justice system.

While a truly progressive tax is an avenue not available to the city under the Dillon Rule, there are revenue streams that don’t literally rely on criminalizing poverty. Raising tax rates provides a reliable, steady revenue stream to tackle the problems the alternative would only exacerbate.

While much about the budget process remains opaque to me, it is bewildering to see what feels like intentional misrepresentations about what it would mean to raise meals and lodging tax rates. Business owners have appeared at public comment to make the case that increased meals and lodging taxes would hurt their business. One restaurant owner said he would have to raise prices to account for the “loss,” but failed to explain how an additional one dollar in tax on a $100 meal at his pricey establishment would drive down business to the point that he would have to raise prices to make a profit.

The restaurant experiences no loss here. The tax is paid by the consumer and only passes through the business. The hysteria is puzzling to me.

When you make your personal budget, you have to make hard decisions about what’s important to you and what things you can do without. It’s the same when a city makes a budget, except we’re deciding what our neighbors should do without. The real hurdle in balancing the budget is not a column on a spreadsheet, but in the public understanding of what the budget is. A budget is more than just a balance of revenues and expenditures—it’s a moral document, an agreement about what is important to us.

Beyond the public protestations of business owners about the meals and lodging rates, there has been a lot of uncertainty about the real estate tax rate, whose increase would fund affordable housing. At a March 16 budget forum, Councilor Kathy Galvin was vocally in favor of a 1-1-1 increase. By Wednesday night, she was expressing relief that the real estate tax would remain steady for another year. While the higher rate was advertised, it seems we won’t know the fate of the tax until the March 27 work session.

At the first reading of the final 2019 budget in April of last year, the meeting went into an hour-long recess due to threats of violence from an armed neo-Confederate. A woman had just commented that the Downtown Mall was the jewel of Charlottesville. That jewel sits in a crown forged by centuries of racial inequity. The violence isn’t always as overt as an angry racist with a gun in council chambers. Sometimes, it creeps insidiously into our lives, in the form of a budget that doesn’t value the lives of our most vulnerable community members.

UVA professor Walt Heinecke offered us a positive reframing at a recent public comment period: When the national press returns to Charlottesville this summer to ask us what we’ve done to address the conditions underlying the violence of the summer of hate, let this budget be the jewel in our crown, he said. He urged council to move forward with the real estate tax increase to put money into affordable housing and to publicly frame the meals and lodging tax increases as a public good—even going as far as proposing a campaign to put signs in restaurant windows advertising the meals tax increase as a micro-investment in equity. I’m not sure this budget goes far enough to deserve to be called a crown jewel. But it has the potential to be a down payment on a crown this city never earned.

Categories
Arts

Window to the soul: Richelle Claiborne looks at her own history through black music

Like many ideas, singer Richelle Claiborne’s latest musical endeavor came into focus after a couple of bourbons.

She had a story she wanted to tell—one about her creative influences, her ancestors, herself—and she wasn’t sure how to express it. An artist of many talents, Claiborne could work it out through poetry, a spoken word performance, or a play, but the more she thought about it, music seemed to be the only option.

After some sipping and talking with her friend, guitarist Jamal Millner, she had it—she’d perform her personal history through black music: blues, jazz, funk, and soul, reggae, R&B, and maybe a little rock ‘n’ roll.

The resulting show, “Richelle Claiborne: Black Music Excellence Through the Ages,” is at The Front Porch on Friday night, where Claiborne will be backed up by a live band of musicians she’s known for many years: Ti Ames (vocals), Bud Bryant (bass), Rob Hubbard (drums), Ivan Orr (keyboards), and Tucker Rogers (guitar).

Claiborne’s been singing on Charlottesville stages since she joined the First Baptist Church cherub choir at age 4 (how many years ago, she won’t say). She sang as part of her church’s youth ministry, in gospel choirs, in her bedroom, and just about everywhere else. Claiborne remembers the women at church clapping their hands and saying, “Oh, yes, baby! Oh, you sound so good!”—and while you can trust your mama’s and grandmas’ and aunties’ opinions on just about anything, you do so knowing how much they love you, Claiborne says, raising one quizzical eyebrow and pursing her lips before bursting into a fit of laughter.

In college, Claiborne walked out of her Rutgers University choir audition—the idea of having to audition for a non-competitive gospel choir, and one without some sort of record deal, was absurd to her—and onto open mic stages.

That’s when she started “rippin’ it up,” she says, singing not only gospel but jazz, soul, and funk—covers at first, then originals. When she returned to Charlottesville, she sang with a few groups, including Soul Sledge, and in various local theater performances. Claiborne knows this is her outlet, her release, and her higher calling.

“There are many different ways to get to God, here on the planet,” says Claiborne. “When I am pouring myself into whatever artistic outlet I’m choosing to pour myself into, that’s another way that I connect with my ancestors, with the divine…” It’s a lot to bring into a performance, to translate for and convey to an audience, and Claiborne jokes that she might have to start selling waterproof mascara at the door of all her shows (you know, for all the criers).

On Friday, there will be space to cry, says Claiborne, but there will also be space to dance, to laugh, and to get down with it when the groove hits. She’ll perform songs from a variety of genres, all written and recorded by black artists, that explore life’s highs and lows (you can’t appreciate one without the other, she says). A script ties the individual songs together, and focuses on formative moments, such as the birth of her daughter. “Once you reach a certain age,” she says, “the passing of time is not nearly as important as the moments that happen.”

Claiborne only hints at which songs she’ll sing: she and Ames will do an a cappella duet of a Sweet Honey in the Rock song; there will be at least one gospel song, some medleys, some contemporary songs, and a few choices that she expects will surprise her audience. “It’s not the history of black music,” says Claiborne. “It’s my history through black music—how all these different genres have impacted and affected me, or represented me, is the thread that ties it all together.”

She weaves her bandmates in, too: many of them have been present for the moments Claiborne explores in the show. Ames is Claiborne’s cousin; Claiborne, Orr, and Rogers have been friends since high school; and Claiborne and Bryant go way back, to when they were hanging out, listening to the Chickenhead Blues Band and the Hogwaller Ramblers at Durty Nelly’s. These connections are “feel-able,” says Claiborne, because she loves these musicians and they love her in return, and that’s a solid foundation for music-making.

In singing this collection of songs, Claiborne wants to convey the breadth and the depth of what music means to people of color. “It is used for healing. It is used for sending messages. It is used to celebrate. It is used to mourn. It embraces and embodies every emotion that you can possibly have, and every purpose that you could possibly use it for,” she says.

In a single day, you might sing to mourn the dead, celebrate good news, or rock a baby to sleep.

“It’s everything,” says Claiborne. “It’s the most powerful medium we have. Music is it for me.”


Richelle Claiborne honors her ancestors and fellow musicians at The Front Porch on March 29 at 8pm.

Tristan Williams

Categories
Arts

Second that: Jordan Peele thrills again with Us

With Get Out, Jordan Peele electrified the world of modern horror filmmaking, reinvigorating the potential for strong socio-political messages in harrowing and entertaining packages. The message amplified the scares and vice versa, sending shockwaves all the way to the Academy Awards. With Us, Peele cements his position as a genuine auteur with far more to offer than we saw in his huge debut (as if that were ever in doubt). Us is not as revolutionary as Get Out—and thank God. How boring would it be if he tried to break the mold every time? Like if every song on Led Zeppelin IV was a variation on “Stairway to Heaven.” The worst thing Peele could have done would be to emulate his previous breakthrough, and with Us, he proves that he is worth the hype.

Us follows the Wilson family: mother Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), father Gabe (Winston Duke), daughter Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph), and son Jason (Evan Alex) on their annual trip to their summer home—the house in which Adelaide grew up.

A trip to the nearby boardwalk and carnival revives memories of a traumatic event from Adelaide’s past that she has never shared. When she visited this same carnival as a child, she wandered away from her family and saw her doppelgänger in a house of mirrors—not a reflection. Bit by bit, we see glimpses of the event and the emotional consequences to her and her parents. Little coincidences lead her to believe that her double is coming for her, until one day copies of her and her entire family appear at their house during a power outage. The strangers have mysterious origins and unclear motives, but Adelaide must fight for her family’s lives, and her own right to exist.

Us

R, 121 minutes

Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, Regal Stonefield 14 and IMAX, Violet Crown Cinema

There are as many twists and turns in Us as there were in Get Out, but if you happen to hear an unwanted spoiler, the fun will not be ruined. In Get Out, the audience’s ignorance of the larger plot was crucial to the film’s air of creepiness, and put us in the shoes of the protagonist. In Us, everything is bad, it escalates, and there is no easy way out. I happened to predict some crucial twists, but when they came to be, they were still scary, satisfying, funny, or all three.

In addition to the scares and jokes, Us is a tribute to social relics of the past. The film opens in 1986, with Adelaide watching an old TV set with various VHS cassettes on either side (watch for references to those films throughout; some are obvious, some are subtle). Among the things she witnesses is an ad for Hands Across America—if you’re old enough to remember, you’ve also likely forgotten this massive non-event by now. But, like many of the best horror films, Us seizes on the shadows of memories either buried or cast aside. Just because we never talk about it anymore doesn’t mean its traces have disappeared, and so too with personal memories and trauma.

The film works on almost all levels: visually, thematically, and even comedically. Nyong’o is spectacularly creepy in her dual roles, while Duke is a revelation as the goofy dad. The performances from child actors are terrific, and supporting turns from Elisabeth Moss and Tim Heidecker prove surprisingly resonant. There are a few narrative hiccups that interrupt the flow, including at least one twist that might actually be impossible, but they don’t drag the film down. Us is a great sophomore film from a gifted filmmaker who has many more stories to tell


See it again: Napoleon Dynamite

PG, 96 minutes

The Paramount Theater, April 2


Local theater listings:

Alamo Drafthouse Cinema 377 Merchant Walk Sq., 326-5056

Regal Stonefield 14 and IMAX The Shops at Stonefield, 244-3213

Violet Crown Cinema 200 W. Main St., Downtown Mall, 529-3000

Categories
Arts

ARTS Pick: Neave Trio

Rule of three:How many trios are in a Neave Trio (below) concert? If you count the musical works—Rebecca Clarke’s Piano Trio; Amy Beach’s Piano Trio in A minor, Op. 150; and Louise Farrenc’s Piano Trio in E-flat Major, Op. 33—you can count up to four for this one. Since forming in 2010, the chamber ensemble, comprised of violinist Anna Williams, cellist Mikhail Veselov, and pianist Eri Nakamura, has toured the globe and repeatedly landed on “Best of” annual classical music lists. Neave strives to champion new works by modern composers and reach wider audiences, and its latest release, Celebrating Piazzolla, is no exception.

Friday 3/29. Free, 8pm. Old Cabell Hall, UVA. 924-3052.

Categories
Arts

ARTS Pick: Nick Drake

Influential figure: While developing a play about a meeting between former president John F. Kennedy and former British prime minister Harold Macmillan, screenwriter and playwright Nick Drake came across another figure in Kennedy’s life that piqued his interest—George Thomas, who was JFK’s personal valet from his time in the Senate until his death. Drake’s research led him to the Miller Center and then to Thomas’ hometown of Berryville, Virginia, where his review of photographs, travel records, and oral histories raised the idea that Thomas had an influence on Kennedy’s landmark June 1963 address that laid the groundwork for the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Playwright and director Leslie Scott-Jones will host a discussion with Drake to distill his findings.

Thursday 3/28. Free, 6pm. Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, 233 Fourth St. NW. 260-8720.

Categories
News

The student housing scramble: Two roommates find a good fit off-Grounds

By Shrey Dua

In Charlottesville, one of the largest populations of apartment dwellers can be found in the roughly mile-wide radius immediately surrounding the University of Virginia: students.

Every year, waves of UVA students abandon Grounds in favor of their own apartments, a process that quickly spirals into a mad dash to find the best, most-affordable living space as close to Grounds as possible. That means the search for housing often starts as early as September.

Third-year students David Gent and Drew Dudzig, who met in high school and became roommates in their second year at UVA, enjoyed some of the benefits of on-Grounds housing their first and second years, but decided to move off-Grounds for their third year. 

“We weren’t trying to live on-Grounds another year, just given what you get for how much you pay,” says Gent.

The two found a two-bedroom, one-bath apartment at College Court, a small, ’70s-era complex on 13th Street, after a nerve-racking house-hunting process. “It was actually incredibly stressful,” says Gent. “I went to Australia for a summer internship, and during that time the plans we had made fell through, so Drew and I were basically homeless around mid-June.”

Gent found an apartment while he was in Australia and had his mom contact the owner to work out the details. “It was a pretty crazy situation, but everything worked out in the end,” he says.

Dudzig and Gent’s story is fairly common among university students. The race to find housing often leaves many in a last-second panic just to find a place to live in Charlottesville, let alone one with the amenities students look for in an apartment, especially a room of one’s own.

“Honestly, I was so used to sharing a room at Lambeth last year, and the dorms my first year, as well as with my brother when I was younger, the fact that I got my own room this year alone made it pretty great,” says Gent.

“The apartment has its fair share of drawbacks, things like being in the basement, the occasional bug, keeping the small bathroom and kitchen clean, making sure the drain isn’t clogged, normal stuff like that we have to worry about,” Gent says. “But we’re both fairly clean so it’s really not much of a problem.”

Gent and Dudzig both think their apartment is a much better situation than living at Lambeth, where they were last year. Lambeth Field Apartments and GrandMarc on the Corner are both popular destinations for many second-year students, with fully furnished units and utilities included. But the downsides are pricey rents and often having to share a room. Gent and Dudzig paid around $800 a month each for a shared two-person bedroom. Now, “we each have our own room, and we’re paying less, around $750-775 a month, per person.” says Dudzig. “I also really like the location. Some people think walking to Grounds from the Corner can be a pain, but honestly it’s not very far at all from most of my classes. I probably even prefer the location to first-year old dorms.”

The two plan on living together next year, but this time they’re ahead of the game. They found an apartment months ago.

Categories
Living News

An abhorrent infestation, thousands of bullets, and a goat sacrifice

While renters have it tough, managing an apartment isn’t a walk in the park either, and one local manager has truly seen it all. On the condition of anonymity, the industry professional of nearly two decades agreed to dish the details.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I could likely fill a large novel with good material on this topic.”

His “go-to” story starts about 10 years ago at an undisclosed three-story apartment in Charlottesville’s urban ring. A maintenance worker was befuddled when he opened the door to a ground-level bathroom and discovered a caved-in ceiling and “three inches of some type of mysterious fatty substance across the entire floor.”

He then tried the unit above it, where he found the same thing. Upon entering the third and final floor, “It looked like a scene out of a movie,” the apartment manager says. Streamers hung from the ceiling from a party the night before, but “it wasn’t a raging kegger, it was their child’s first birthday party—and they butchered a goat in the bathroom.”

That’s also where they cooked the four-legged mammal and poured its fat down the drain. (Much to their dismay, the pipes burst.) A neighbor recalled seeing someone enter the apartment with a live goat across his shoulders, and the animal’s carcass would later be found in a nearby dumpster.

The apartment manager says he also learned real quick that the best way to enter a home is to swing the door open and pause before proceeding through it. Why? Because if the place is particularly unkempt, cockroaches could rain down from the doorway.

In one instance, he recalls the shower of insects lasted for at least 10 seconds.

“There were so many roaches that the carpet was flowing like water.”

And last but not least, he remembers two young roommates, likely renting an apartment for the first time. They caused quite a scene on their move-out day, when inspectors found tens of thousands of BBs lodged into the drywall.

“Every piece had to be ripped out and replaced,” which came with a price tag just south of $10,000, he says. Pay up.

Categories
Arts

ARTS Pick: Washington Balalaika Society Orchestra

Folk forward: Award-winning soprano Olga Orlovskaya performs as part of the Washington Balalaika Society Orchestra, with more than 60 musicians playing music from Russia, Ukraine, and Eastern Europe on traditional instruments. The balalaika is a three-stringed instrument of Russian origin with a triangular body that varies in tone depending on its size. Though it’s been played for centuries, it periodically gets rediscovered in Western culture, where it has appeared in the score of Dr. Zhivago, on Jethro Tull and Kate Bush recordings, and most recently as a major part of Wes Anderson’s Oscar-winning score for The Grand Budapest Hotel.

Sunday 3/31. $12-15, 3pm. V. Earl Dickinson Building at PVCC, 501 College Dr. 961-5376.

Categories
News

No room to grow: In a tight real estate market, a family of seven makes do with 860 square feet

Sylvan and Sheria Kassondwa’s 860-square foot, three-bedroom apartment would be fine, they say, if they had one or two kids.

As it happens, they have five.

“In my country, time is not money like here, you can spend more time with your family,” says Sylvan, who is originally from the Democratic Republic of Congo. “And then here you find that you spend more time with work. So when you have more kids, you find that you have a big problem here.”

He laughs—what can one do? On a rainy afternoon in early March, his children, ranging in age from 1 to 12, pop in and out of the tiny living room to greet their guest, then disappear upstairs. They are charming and well-behaved, but their parents lament how cramped they are at home.

“The kids, they don’t have space,” Sheria says. “They have nowhere to keep their shoes, it’s a mess.” She indicates an overflowing shoe rack on the stair landing and waves her hands dismissively. “This does not really look like a place where you can breathe, feel fresh air.”

When the Kassondwas moved to this apartment in Fifeville, in November of 2017, they’d hoped it would be a step up.

Sylvan and Sheria had fled their home in the Congo more than a decade earlier, seeking refuge from the war and violence there. They landed in Uganda and applied for refugee status in the United States. It took 12 years.

“We were struggling to live,” says Sheria. “But we had this hope, that one day we would be fine.”

They were thrilled to finally get to the United States, and the family (by then, the Kassondwas had four kids) came to Charlottesville in September of 2016. The International Rescue Committee helped them settle into an apartment off Hydraulic Road, and paid their rent for the first three months while they found work.

“Then, thank God, we met International Neighbors,” says Sheria.

Founded by local educator Kari Miller, International Neighbors helps support refugee families once the IRC is no longer involved in their cases. The organization connects new arrivals to local “family friends” and helps them navigate the complexities of American life, from school forms to local events.

“She helped us a lot,” Sheria says, “but she can only do so much.” The two-bedroom apartment was a tight fit for their family of six, with another baby on the way. So the couple took it upon themselves to try to find a bigger place, searching apartment listings online.

With their limited budget (Sylvan was working as a tailor, while Sheria cleaned houses and took classes to improve her English), there were few affordable options.

Eventually, they found a three-bedroom for $830 a month, only $100 a month more than their two-bedroom, in a complex aimed at low-income renters called Greenstone on 5th.

“It’s cheap for the area, that’s why we are here,” Sylvan says. 

They applied online, but after moving in, they realized how small each of the rooms was (the bedrooms fit little more than a bed and a dresser, with only a foot or two of space in between), and that there was no washing machine in the apartment.

Doing laundry in the complex costs $3.75 per load, Sheria says, and, “I have this many kids. It’s going to be five loads.”

As the children get older, having only one bathroom for all seven of them is also a problem, but apartments with two bathrooms and washing machines cost $1,200 a month, Sylvan says—out of reach for now.

The apartment has a roach problem, and maintenance is slow to respond to calls, Sylvan adds. But his number-one concern is the neighbors. He says people are often hanging around the complex smoking marijuana.

“This day, it’s good,” Sylvan says with a smile, indicating the gloomy weather outside the window.

“Cause it’s cold outside, everybody’s doing it in the house,” his wife explains. In summer, they say, it’s terrible.

“It’s not a good environment for my kids,” Sheria says. “But we don’t have a choice for now.”

She’d prefer to rent a duplex, but she doesn’t think it’s possible. “In Charlottesville, it’s very expensive,” she says. “We’d never afford that.”

“Every family here is squeezed,” Sylvan adds.

After taking English classes, Sheria trained to become a certified nursing assistant, and now works full-time at UVA. Sylvan hopes that, before his children become teenagers, they’ll be able to afford another place.

“I’m trying to plan, but I don’t know if I can afford to move,” he says. “Maybe next year, or two years.” He’s thinking about getting a second job. “But also, when you have a second job, you have little time with your kids,” he notes.

Still, the couple does not want to complain too much—their home is an improvement over what they left behind in Africa, and Sylvan takes a philosophical view. “If you can’t afford the house that is fitting your family, you need to [be] content with the one you have,” he says.

His wife, who would also prefer a roomier kitchen, interjects: “But you are not happy about it.”