Susan Elliott led the team of city staff members who drafted the ambitious proposal for Charlottesville to go carbon neutral by 2050. (Photo: Eze Amos)
The City of Charlottesville has set a plan in motion to reduce its carbon footprint—and it’s not messing around.
On June 24, City Council unanimously approved a proposal to curtail carbon emissions by 45 percent over the next 11 years and achieve an end goal of carbon neutrality by 2050. It’s an aggressive plan, one considered by local environmentalists to be the most ambitious of any city in Virginia, and its success is going to depend on buy-in from residents.
“The motivation and the discussion that happened was not around, ‘We want to be the leader’ or ‘We want to be the first,’” says Susan Elliott, the city’s climate protection program manager. “This is what the climate science is showing us needs to [happen]. And based on our values and our history and our community’s priorities, we’re rising to that challenge.”
Previously, the city had a much more modest goal, having committed in 2011 to reducing its emissions by 10 percent by 2035. But in June 2017, city leaders signed onto what is now called the Covenant of Mayors for Climate and Energy, and committed to a three-phase plan to examine emissions, set a new goal to reduce them, and implement a plan to get there. Each phase takes about a year.
With a goal now in place, the city can direct its attention toward devising specific strategies for achieving it. Elliott points to two general courses of action as realistically attainable: reducing inefficient energy consumption and encouraging businesses to consider renewable fuel options.
“When we looked at our emissions profile, 5 percent of that is directly within the city control,” Elliott says. “So the other 95 percent has to be private sector action.”
In the first phase, Charlottesville determined that three areas directly contribute to the majority of its carbon emissions: residential (29.8 percent), commercial (27 percent), and transportation (26.6 percent). That means home owners, local businesses, and drivers must be motivated to reduce their carbon footprint. The city’s task is to create incentives for them to do so.
“Everybody has a role to play,” says Teri Kent, program director of the Charlottesville Climate Collaborative. C3 is a local nonprofit that promotes community-based incentives for going green. One of those incentives currently being considered by the city for the final action plan is the Commercial Property Assessed Clean Energy financing program.
Under C-PACE, owners of local properties receive long-term loans that allow them to undertake projects such as insulating walls and installing water-efficient toilets. The extended repayment structure of the loans means the landowners’ monthly or annual payments would be covered by the money saved from implementing these energy-reducing practices. Also, the loan is tied to the property, not the business that owns it, so the remaining balance would be packaged with the real estate itself in the event that the owner decides to sell the property.
The city hasn’t yet addressed the transportation aspect of emissions, writing in its proposal that it aims to research methods for “integrating zero emissions vehicles into the municipal fleet” and encouraging community members to do the same for their cars. Given that the staff crafting the plan just had its set of goals approved, it expects to nail down specific strategies in the coming months.
Charlottesville does already have some environmental initiatives in place, such as the Local Energy Alliance Program, which is sponsored by the city, Albemarle County, and Dominion Energy. LEAP was instrumental in the installation of energy-efficient projects in 475 low-income houses across the city and county in 2018, and the initiative includes the Commercial Clean Energy Loan Program, which assists businesses in paying the interest on solar panels.
Indoor Biotechnologies, a local firm focused on asthma and allergies, installed solar panels with help from the program, and received C3’s 2019 Industry Leader Award as part of the nonprofit’s Better Business Challenge. Company founder Martin Chapman believes that while not all businesses will take advantage of these programs, the “smarter” companies will see that long-term efficiency bodes well for their overall success.
“Some businesses may just see this as, ‘Well, this is an added cost and I’m not going to recover my return on investment for 10 years, ergo I’m not going to do it,’” Chapman says. “Usually those kinds of businesses in any case are not the ones that are going to thrive because you’re always thinking in a kind of shallow way.”
Voluntary practices like these will likely not be enough to make the city carbon neutral by 2050. Elliott says the plan is to eventually consider carbon sequestration, a process that removes carbon from the atmosphere, to counteract any remaining emissions. Meanwhile, Charlottesville will focus on eliminating unnecessary factors that contribute to its carbon emissions. She hopes the city’s eventual proposal will include input from the entire community.
“If people want to be involved in this, this really is the time to do that,” Elliott says. “There is genuine interest in having something that is actionable and achievable.”
U.S. Attorney Thomas Cullen addresses the media after James Fields was sentenced to life in prison. (Photo: Eze Amos)
James Alex Fields Jr. sat before the judge, his thick, black hair grown just long enough to touch the collar of his black-and-white striped jumpsuit. The 22-year-old wore glasses, and spent most of Friday morning and early afternoon staring at the wall in front of him as the victims who were harmed when he plowed into a group of counterprotesters in Charlottesville on August 12, 2017, spoke about the trauma they endured and advocated for him to spend the rest of his life in prison.
Chief U.S. Western District of Virginia Judge Michael Urbanski heard the statements of 23 victims, testimony from two FBI special agents and the prosecution’s evidence that examined Fields’ history as an admitted neo-Nazi before handing down 29 life sentences in the final ruling of the federal case.
“This sentencing sends a message that terrorism and hatred-inspired violence have no place in our community,” FBI Special Agent in Charge David Archey said at a press conference following the sentencing.
Fields’ legal counsel asked Urbanski last week to consider a sentence of “less than life” due to his age, troubled childhood, and history of mental illness. However, Urbanski determined the crime wasn’t an impulse decision and the punishment was “sufficient but not greater than necessary.”
“I would like to apologize for my actions on August 12 and for the hurt and loss I have caused,” Fields said in a flat tone to the judge before receiving the sentence. “I would like to apologize for taking it to trial in state and for the wounds reopened by doing so. I apologize to my mother for putting her through this. Every day I think about how this could have gone different and how I regret my actions. I’m sorry.”
Victims of the attack testified, some for the first time. Many of those who came forward and spoke fought back tears as they detailed the events that happened that day and how they’ve attempted to recover physically, mentally and emotionally since.
Mark Heyer, the father of murdered 32-year-old counterprotester Heather Heyer, stepped forward and addressed Fields directly after a prepared statement was read for him.
“I want to publicly say that I forgive you,” Heyer said as he wiped tears from his eyes. He said that he hoped Fields would find faith and lead a better life moving forward.
Those in attendance saw footage of the attack both from a Virginia State Police helicopter and videos obtained from bystanders’ phones and cameras. The prosecutors showed photos taken the day after the attack of Fields’ bedroom, which was outfitted with a Nazi Iron Cross flag and a framed photo of Adolf Hitler beside his bed. They also presented social media posts from the months leading up to the protest that depicted minorities and members of the Jewish community. One of those posts was a meme of a car hitting a crowd of protesters with the caption, “You have the right to protest but I’m late for work.”
A recorded prison phone call between Fields and his mother four months after the rally was also played for the courtroom. In an expletive-filled rant, Fields referred to Heyer’s mother, Susan Bro, as “the enemy” and “a communist.” On his way to the August protest from Ohio, Fields texted his mother a picture of Hitler accompanied by a message that read, “We are not the ones who have to be careful.”
Finally, testimony from Fields’ former classmates showed that his history of outspoken racist views dated back to his high school years, including a trip to a German concentration camp in which Fields remarked, “This is where the magic happened,” and “It’s almost like you can still hear them screaming.”
“It’s my hope that from a law enforcement standpoint, members of this particular community can reflect that there are some good guys out there in the FBI, in the Virginia State Police and in the Charlottesville Police Department who care about these cases, who worked tirelessly to bring this guy to justice and are committed to doing the right thing,” U.S. Attorney Thomas Cullen said at the press conference. Police were widely criticized for their handling of the Unite the Right rally.
Fields will also be responsible for $100 fines for each of the 29 counts and must pay restitution to the victims, an amount that’ll be determined over the next 90 days. Urbanski recommended that Fields’ life sentence run concurrent to the state’s decision, which will be handed down at Charlottesville Circuit Court on July 15. Jurors at that trial recommended life in prison plus 419 years.
Sally Hudson, left, and Kathy Galvin, right, will face off in the primary June 11. Photo: Amy and Jackson Smith
The reliably Democratic 57th District rarely makes for an exciting horse race. Once a delegate, always a delegate, as David Toscano and Mitch Van Yahres before him proved, each easily holding on to the seat representing Charlottesville and the Albemarle urban ring as long as he chose.
Not this year.
Newcomer Sally Hudson upended the tradition of politely waiting until the incumbent decides not to seek reelection, and jumped into the race before House Minority Leader Toscano announced in February he was retiring after this term.
And she brought a $100,000 donation from philanthropist Sonjia Smith into the race with her.
City Councilor Kathy Galvin, after serving two terms on council, decided she’d make a run for Richmond as well.
For the first time in the district, two women want to take the reins on a state level.
Center for Politics pundit Larry Sabato lives in the 57th District, but says he hasn’t followed the race because “Donald Trump and his tweets and bizarre presidency absorb my days.” He does offer this:
“In an era when someone like Donald Trump, with zero governmental and military experience, could get elected president, the old traditions don’t even exist anymore.”
In 2017, Virginia held the first state election after Trump was elected, and saw a surge of women running for office. Democrats took 15 seats in the House of Delegates and Republicans watched their 66-34 majority in the House whittled down to an almost even split. (The GOP narrowly held on to its majority after a Republican’s name was drawn out of a bowl in the tied 94th District race, to make it 51-49.)
This election pits Hudson, 30, an economist who moved here from Boston three years ago, against Galvin, 63, an architect who has lived in Charlottesville 35 years.
Hudson teaches at UVA’s Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy and advises public and nonprofit agencies statewide. Galvin is an adjunct professor at UVA and served on the school board before her election to City Council.
“I think it’s going to be very close,” says former mayor Dave Norris. “You’ve got two strong female candidates.” Galvin is running on her government experience, and Hudson on her policy experience and passion for structural change, he says.
“It comes down to whether voters want to stay with one they know or go with a fresh face,” says Norris. “The question is whether people want to move in a new direction.”
Former councilor Dede Smith served with Galvin, but supports Hudson, whom she sees as part of a new wave of female leaders emerging across the country. As a baby boomer, Smith says it’s time for her generation to move aside and let millennials handle what’s going to be their future. “We’re seeing this incredibly capable group of people stepping forward,” she says.
Former mayor Bitsy Waters is a Galvin supporter. “I’m supporting Kathy because of her number of years of local service and her familiarity with local issues,” she says. “A lot of political jobs are not entry level. They come with a lot of responsibility, and experience has great value.”
Hudson’s announcement “was a political surprise,” says Waters, who thought Toscano would be delegate for another term. She sees Hudson’s run as part of a national trend of “young people stepping forward and thinking it’s their time.”
The $100,000 donation Hudson received is large for the 57th District, and “has the potential to change the dynamic,” says Waters. “I’m a campaign reform person. I don’t like the idea people can buy elections.”
Dede Smith puts the Sonjia Smith contribution in another light. “I know it was shocking. But David Toscano has a war chest of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Sonjia Smith is not a corporation. She doesn’t ask for stuff.”
Sonjia Smith has a history of supporting progressive candidates. Her husband, Michael Bills, started Clean Virginia, a PAC that contributes to candidates who eschew Dominion donations, which both Hudson and Galvin have done.
Observes Norris, “That was a pretty powerful signal people involved in clean energy are tired of the status quo.” Dominion has the capacity to invest in campaigns, he says. “I think [Smith and Bills] were pretty displeased with Delegate Toscano and wanted to shake up Dominion’s political influence.
The flip side, he says, “Does it raise questions about a candidate when she has so much cash from one source?”
No Republicans have announced a run for the seat, so whoever wins the June 11 primary is pretty much headed to Richmond.
On May 16, Toscano came out for Galvin, citing her experience and long local ties to the community. But he added, “I will give my wholehearted support to whoever wins the Democratic primary.”
The outcome depends on who shows up at the polls, and primaries traditionally have lower turnout—although that’s changed some since the 2016 election.
“Longer-term residents tend to vote in the election,” says Norris. “That could favor Kathy.”
Adds Norris, “A lot of people are still upset about what happened in 2017. That could hurt her. There hasn’t been acknowledgment of mistakes made by City Council.”
“Millennials are finally waking up to the fact they need to vote,” says Smith, which she thinks will be a factor in turnout for Hudson.
Galvin-supporter Waters would like to believe name recognition and experience will benefit her candidate, but says, “I’ve felt a lot of what I knew about politics thrown up in the air the past couple of years.”
The newcomer
Sally Hudson, an assistant professor of economics at UVA’s Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy, admits, “I was not plugged into politics three years ago. Then 2016 happened.”
She knocked on doors for Tom Perriello, another beneficiary of Sonjia Smith’s largess, during his 2017 primary run for governor, and then continued to help get Ralph Northam elected. “I kind of fell into this sideways,” she says.
If elected, the first issue she’d tackle would be comprehensive election reform, including automatic registration, ranked choice voting, and independent redistricting. In 2015, every incumbent in the General Assembly kept their seats, she says. “That’s a real threat to democracy.”
Her opponent has called for a $10,000 cap on donations, and said she won’t accept money from Dominion. How does limiting donations square with Hudson’s $100,000 cash bonanza from Smith?
“It’s something I struggled with initially,” concedes Hudson. “I didn’t get into the race because of that. No one knows how they’ll act until someone opens that door.”
She describes Smith as a mentor and as someone who invests in leaders. “I know her,” says Hudson. “There’s no way in a million years she’d come knocking on my door and ask for something.”
Hudson has used her war chest to invest in a heavy field operation. “If what we were doing was buying attack ads, that would be different,” she says. “That donation brought a lot of noise. It was like dropping a rock in a pond.”
She also addresses stepping on Toscano’s seniority when she announced her candidacy for his seat. “It wasn’t any disrespect for David’s service,” she says. “It wasn’t about him. It was about now.”
A common thread she’s seen among many of the progressive candidates is what is the right thing for right now, she says. Her race is about the “moment we’re in now.”
The daughter of a minister, Hudson originally came from Iowa, and lived in Arizona, Nebraska, and Connecticut growing up, then in Palo Alto when she studied at Stanford, and in Boston while at MIT. “Charlottesville is a great hybrid of a lot of places I’ve lived before,” she says, with its small community feel and urban walkability.
She considers moving around a lot growing up an asset when trying to solve problems, bringing a new perspective on how other states have done things.
While Galvin and Hudson will both say they’re on the same side on a number of issues, the biggest difference between them, Hudson says, is “where and how we focus.”
“Kathy has a long history of serving local government,” she says. “I am the candidate more focused on state government. I’m an economist and most of the work I do is advising state agencies.”
At forums, Hudson notes that she’s spent more time in Richmond, and she stresses her econ background and her love of getting into the weeds of government and economic inequity.
Hudson has gotten endorsements from four current members of the House of Delegates who’ve worked with her.
And she believes it’s really important to send a strong progressive from a safe Dem district to push issues that others, in more competitive districts,“don’t have as much latitude to stick their necks out” on.
Hudson’s also gotten endorsements from city councilors who have served with Galvin: Smith, Heather Hill, Kristin Szakos, and Mayor Nikuyah Walker.
“I think it’s telling most of [Galvin’s] endorsers have served quite some time ago,” she says. “I’m incredibly grateful for the support, particularly from female mayors like Nancy O’Brien and Kay Slaughter.”
Hudson thinks it’s time for a generational change in elected office, and she points out that millennials aren’t kids anymore and that designation means an adult under 40.
She describes herself as the Columbine generation, one whose first major media moment was that school shooting when she was 10 years old. Twenty years later, she and her peers are still waiting for change—while school shootings have become a regular part of the American landscape.
“I think our generation has watched the current leadership fail to make progress on the really acute crises that we’ve been facing,” she says. “When people say, be patient and wait your turn, we think, we have been waiting.”
Sally Hudson has stopped waiting.
Photo: Eze Amos
The veteran
When Kathy Galvin first ran for City Council in 2011, the big issue was the construction of the Ragged Mountain Reservoir megadam and the still-unbuilt nine-mile pipeline from South Fork Rivanna. The issue so roiled the community that Galvin called a press conference to decry “the tone of our local political debate.”
Flash forward to the post-August 2017 era. The water controversy seems benign after what Galvin describes as the “watershed moment” of August 2017, but “interestingly enough, the water supply has been a wonderful investment,” she says.
Galvin has been in the thick of the past several contentious years on City Council, starting with the call to remove Confederate statues in 2016. She declined to vote in favor of getting rid of the statue of General Robert E. Lee until after August 12, when she and fellow councilor Mike Signer joined the others and said aye to removing both Lee and Stonewall Jackson.
In early 2018, Galvin lost a bid for mayor when her councilor colleagues voted 4-1 for Nikuyah Walker, with Galvin the sole no vote.
And in April, C-VILLE opinion columnist Molly Conger targeted Galvin with a piece called “Working the system: Galvin has a history of supporting the status quo.” Conger recalled a memo Galvin wrote in 2005, in which Galvin criticized a 2004 outside audit of the school system as “bent on finding evidence of institutional racism” and wrote, “Black parents…expect the schools to look after their needs and tell them what needs to be done.”
Galvin declines an opportunity to respond to the column. “I don’t want to pretend to know anyone’s motivation,” she says. “It doesn’t warrant my response. My record stands on its own.”
The Unite the Right rally and the growing white nationalist movement that’s “a matter of domestic terrorism,” along with the shooting down of post-rally legislation to allow Charlottesville to control its own monuments are part of her reasons for wanting to go to Richmond, “to give local governments authority to deal with their own issues,” she says.
During her 35 years in Charlottesville, Galvin has learned about the gaps between state and local government in Dillon Rule Virginia, where localities only have the authority that’s been granted them by the General Assembly.
“Instead of being a local elected official where you’re having to ask permission,” says Galvin, “I want to be able to be that ready partner in Richmond to unleash the talent that’s here locally so city and county governments can solve their own problems for the people they serve.”
The Massachusetts native graduated from Boston University with a B.A. in geography and economics, and says she didn’t become an architect until after she’d worked managing public housing and met “citizen architects driven by community issues.”
She acknowledges that in terms of positions—clean energy, affordable housing, education, and gun safety—she and Hudson are not very different. “In terms of our understanding of the area and our experience in the area, we’re very different.” Galvin went to grad school here, raised a family, served on the PTO, and as a working mother, saw her paycheck go to pay for childcare.
“I’ve seen firsthand the stark racial and class divides between our neighborhoods, and that’s why our school compositions are so different,” she says. “That led me to work on the school board.”She thinks it’s that experience in the community and in elected office that sets her apart from Hudson.
When asked about Hudson’s large cash infusion, Galvin says, “Putting a cap on contributions allows more people to have an equal voice.” She adds, “Not addressing the influence of big money on political campaigns is not seeing the elephant in the room.”
Galvin has learned the difference between running for City Council and running for the House of Delegates: “The amount of money I have to raise, given the imbalance we’ve seen, is staggering.”
As of March 31, Galvin had reported raising just under $28,000 compared to Hudson’s $155,000.
At her campaign launch, Councilor Wes Bellamy was on hand, and Galvin said he’d given her a lot of insight on inequity and racism. She also thanked her colleagues on City Council for alerting her to bias in the criminal justice system with the automatic suspension of driver’s licenses for nonpayment of fines, regardless of one’s ability to pay, and mass incarceration.
Galvin has made criminal justice reform one of her campaign issues, and says it’s time to legalize pot. But in 2012, she voted against a resolution that came before council to ask the General Assembly to revisit marijuana laws and consider decriminalization. She defends that vote now, as well as her opposition to the part of the resolution that would have instructed police to make reefer possession arrests a low priority.
“It wasn’t allowed by state law,” she says. “I’m [now] in the position of facing a million-dollar lawsuit because we voted against something that wasn’t allowed by state law,” she says, referring to council’s vote to remove the Confederate statues.
As a legislator, she says she’d be in a better position to legalize, and she also notes that with at least 10 other states working to legalize pot, there are more examples to learn from.Legal marijuana would be a cash crop for Virginia farmers.
Galvin touts her ability to work with Albemarle County over the years on regional issues, and to get people together in a conversation. “The lessons I’ve learned are a reason to run,” she says.
And she’s enjoyed knocking on doors in the county, and getting to meet “people who don’t come to City Council.”
It’s been pretty rough for anyone sitting on council the past couple of years, where councilors are publicly berated on a regular basis by the citizenry.
She says, “Clearly it has not deterred me from running for the House of Delegates.”
Electric scooters: handy transit alternative or public nuisance? Photo: Eze Amos
They appeared overnight the first Monday in December of 2018, long-necked robots on wheels, lurking in neat rows of three or four on street corners all over town.
Within a few days, the motorized scooters, which don’t have designated docking stations, were everywhere, and wherever.
Now, about five months in to the City of Charlottesville’s electric scooter pilot program with two different companies (Lime and Bird), opinions about the zippy modes of transportation are mixed.
For some, the scooters provide a little perplexing levity. Poet Raven Mack says that they’re always popping up at the bottom of a hill near his Hogwaller home. “[There’s] a steady supply of two to 12 that ebbs and flows, some of which have laid knocked over in the bushes for weeks at a time,” he says. “My children and I joke that they just live there, and breed, and the [kid scooters] run off to have their own lives somewhere else in town.”
The Instagram account @wheresmyscooter is devoted to locally-shot pictures of scooters “where they don’t belong”: discarded on train tracks, broken into pieces on dimly lit sidewalks, stuffed in trash cans.
But others have found the Birds and Limes a handy new means of transport. Ross Schiller, a teacher who also works at a restaurant on the Downtown Mall, recently forgot his glasses in his car before working a restaurant shift. He used a scooter to get to his car—which he has to park pretty far from the mall—and back to the restaurant in just a few minutes, without breaking a sweat or missing a moment of his serving shift.
Once you download the Lime or Bird app, you can use it to locate a nearby scooter. Scan the QR code to “unlock” it for $1, and ride for 15 cents a minute. When you’ve arrived at your destination, use the app to “lock” the scooter and leave it for the next rider.
At night, the scooters are collected and recharged, then put back out in the morning.
A few miles scooter ride costs a few dollars, so it’s cheaper than taking a Lyft or an Uber, and it’s faster than walking. There’s little to no wait time, not to mention more flexibility, so scooting can be more convenient than taking a bus.
While it’s unclear how many people are using the scooters (Lime says it won’t have numbers until the scooters have been in town for a year, and Bird didn’t respond to a request for info), it seems that almost everyone has an opinion.
“I find them a great alternative to public transportation, especially when you don’t want to or can’t drive,” says Ike Anderson, membership coordinator and dance instructor at the Music Resource Center, who says he rides Lime scooters often.
But the account administrator of @wheresmyscooter, who asked to remain anonymous, is opposed to the scooters for a number of reasons, namely that “they allow those with more disposable income to have access to yet another transit service that is inherently exclusionary.”
“We should all be supporting more robust publicly funded transit that serves working-class people and for those without access to transit of their own,” the administrator says. And indeed, scooter usage begins with a smart phone which, let’s face it, is still a luxury item.
Alan Goffinski, director of The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative, says he understands folks’ concerns about the scooters but welcomes any alternative to a car. “To those who are concerned with them littering the landscape, I say, ‘What about cars’? We devote half the land in any given city to parking space,” he says.
Others are alarmed by personal safety issues, such as people riding scooters on the sidewalks and the Downtown Mall (which isn’t actually allowed), texting while scooting, scooting without a helmet, or scooting while drunk. And increasingly, people are voicing concern over scooters obstructing sidewalks for those who use wheelchairs or other mobility aids to get around.
Docking stations or designated scooter parking areas might help, and a city-wide survey, which collected a couple thousand responses and closed May 1, may suggest more solutions. The pilot program ends July 31, so city councilors must decide before then whether the scooters stay or get the boot. But for now, the jury’s still out.
Scooter tutor
The city has a web page dedicated to scooter regulations and safety suggestions, but we’re left wondering if riders are actually aware of the rules. Here are the basics:
Scooters must be ridden on streets, not on sidewalks or trails (or the Downtown Mall), and riders have to abide by the same laws as motor vehicle drivers in terms of posted traffic regulations, signs, and signals.
When parking your scooter, do not block travel lanes, driveways, fire hydrants, walkways, sidewalk curb ramps, pedestrian call buttons, bus stops, or entrances to buildings (including ramp and walkway railings and ADA door push buttons).
For crying out loud, don’t text and scoot, or drink and scoot. And wear a helmet—that’s a must if you’re under 14, and a should for everyone else.
Last June, police arrested several community activists who were protesting the conviction of Corey Long. Photo: Eze Amos
After nearly nine months of work, the Police Civilian Review Board is finalizing its initial bylaws. The proposed model would require the city to hire up to two full-time professional staff members to assist the board in processing and independently investigating complaints against Charlottesville police officers.
There has been an understandably high degree of public interest and public scrutiny on the board throughout its brief existence so far. This is a good thing. Hard questions asked at this stage will shape this body into a genuine reflection of what the community needs it to be. Because, make no mistake, this community needs civilian oversight of our police department.
As a municipal meeting enthusiast, I’ve enjoyed watching the body take shape. I worry, though, that those unfamiliar with the nature of the city’s boards and commissions will see stumbling blocks where I see building blocks.
The Civilian Review Board is just one of over three dozen boards and commissions operating in the city, some more functional than others (with a few appearing to be entirely defunct). The Planning Commission is a well-oiled machine, packed with policy knowledge. The Human Rights Commission is pulling itself back together after a few years lost in the wilderness. The Emergency Communications Board is struggling with staffing and training issues, not least of which has been its own inability to retain a director.
I’ve still never attended a meeting of the Towing Advisory Board—it is quite elusive, with meetings not properly noticed or canceled due to lack of quorum. What I mean is, unless it’s a call for a top to bottom audit of all city boards and commissions, I’m skeptical that the criticism of the CRB, much of which takes the form of attacking the personal credibility and professionalism of the volunteer members of the board, is in good faith.
Critics have questioned the cost and the need for a civilian review board. But there is one concept that is universal across every single government body: public engagement. It is, if you take them at their word, the heart and soul of any government endeavor. Why should policing be any different?
You can redress a grievance about an unattractive awning on Avon Street with the Entrance Corridor Review Board. You can tell the Tree Commission how you feel about the saplings put in by the John Warner Parkway. You can address the Library Board on anything from 3D printers to story hour programming. You can not only make your comment and be heard, but you can meaningfully engage with the process of resolving the issue you brought to the table.
But if you have a complaint about policing, that complaint goes into a black box. There is no community involvement. There is no dialogue. You will never find out what, if any, consequences an officer faced. You have no recourse. There is no relationship, no trust. That is a failure of government.
So many conversations about the current political climate in Charlottesville divide the course of our existence into Before and After the summer of 2017. For a not-insignificant number of people, that was their first significant encounter with policing in any capacity other than a traffic stop. But the problem with policing didn’t start the day in July when now-retired Major Gary Pleasants overrode an order from then-Chief Al Thomas, saying of his decision to brutalize antiracist activists protesting the Ku Klux Klan, “you’re damn right I gassed them!” The problem with policing in Charlottesville did not start when Thomas allegedly said, of the rioting in the streets on August 12, “let them fight.”
The events of the summer of 2017 did not cause a breakdown in an otherwise operational system—they just applied enough pressure that the cracks in the façade were finally visible to those of us not already living with the realities of racially biased policing. The battle for accurate, consistent, transparent stop-and-frisk data has been raging for years, and the numbers we have are deeply troubling. The problems aren’t new. We need a new approach if this police department hopes to begin to repair its relationship with the community.
What the CRB proposes isn’t radical. While the model it’s drawn up is its own, it’s similar to boards already in operation in cities around the country. The board would be able to process and investigate complaints, with a budget pegged at 1 percent of the annual police department budget. It is an investment in the department’s own stated goal of improving the relationship between the community and its police force, creating transparency in the process, and giving residents a voice.
Like many boards, the CRB is taking some time to get off the ground. But that’s in part because its charge is so important. The people of Charlottesville should have an avenue for redressing grievances about policing that is at least as robust as the appeals process for requests to paint historic brick buildings.
RVA’s stormwater planters function like an elevated rain garden. Photo: Stephen Barling
By Bonnie Price Lofton
If rainwater doesn’t seep, sponge-like, into the soil around us, it runs away somewhere.
In Charlottesville, where much of the ground is covered with impermeable asphalt, it runs into stormwater drainage systems, ditches, and streams that eventually lead into the Rivanna River.
That creates two problems: first, without earth to filter and gradually release the water, the water level in the river fluctuates wildly; it’s more likely to flood during heavy storms and get too low during dry spells. Second, the rushing water sweeps along oil slicks, trash, animal feces, and lawn chemicals, bringing all those pollutants into the river we count on for both recreation and drinking water.
As a local nonprofit whose mission is to protect the watershed, the Rivanna Conservation Alliance wanted to do everything it could to manage stormwater when it moved to a new location last year, in an industrial stretch of River Road just a stone’s throw from the Rivanna. But common practices—replacing the parking lot with permeable pavement or digging a rain garden, for example—were not an option. The area was still used for heavy trucks and the ground below was potentially contaminated, as well as being in a floodplain.
A solution came in the form of the three custom-made black steel containers now in front of the nonprofit’s one-level cinderblock building, what the organization calls “essentially bioretention in a box.” Working with designer David Hirschman, of Hirschman Water & Environment, LLC, the group created a series of stormwater planters, designed to catch the rain funneled through downspouts from much of the roof and to use it to grow an array of native plants. Like a rain garden, the planters incorporate drainage and layers of stone to hold water.
“All the water that would be going into the street, and then into the stream over here,” says Hirschman, pointing out a clogged streambed, “and finally into the river…all this water now stays in the garden.”
Program Director Lisa Wittenborn says the project was built for about $12,000 (RCA did it with volunteer labor and a grant for $7,000). Pondering the no-frill businesses along River Road—Quarles Fleet Fueling, Central Virginia Rental, some car repair places—she says she’d love if her neighbors felt inspired to do similar projects. In fact, the organization, which has submitted its design for an environmental award, hopes the project will be an example of a cost-effective way for urban and industrial sites across the Rivanna watershed to manage stormwater.
Charlottesville Water Resources Specialist Dan Frisbee says multiple organizations have been working on strategies to manage stormwater, and cites Charlottesville High School as a prime example. The school built a large rainwater harvesting system that collects water from the roof of the Performing Arts Center and provides irrigation water to the practice football field. It also incorporatedbioretention (essentially an engineered rain garden) to treat more than two acres of parking lot, added 6,500 square feet of permeable pavers, and converted a parking lot into a 12,500 square-foot rain garden.
Overall, Frisbee says the streams in the Rivanna watershed have not worsened over the last 15 years. Given how much land has been turned into buildings with impervious surfaces during those years, he says, that’s a victory.
For information on how to install a rain garden at home, search for “Rain Gardens” on the website of the Rivanna Stormwater Education Partnership at rivanna-stormwater.org.
In Charlottesville, carbon emissions per household are more than a ton above the national average. Photo: Skyclad Aerial
In the words of Kermit the Frog, it’s not easy being green. Though the Muppet references the color of his amphibian skin, the famous line is a sentiment that also rings true for Charlottesville, where carbon emissions per household are more than a ton above the national average.
With 10 tons of carbon emissions per home annually, the United States trails the considerably more environmentally-friendly Europe by nearly five tons, but “as a city, we’re even further behind,” says Susan Kruse, the executive director of the Charlottesville Climate Collaborative.
Charlottesville lags behind both America and its neighboring continent by clocking in at 11.2 tons of greenhouse gas emissions per household, according to local environmentalists like Kruse, who used an emissions calculator from the California-based Community Climate Solutions.
“We have a lot of work to do,” she says.
City data shows that local greenhouse gas emissions have decreased by nearly a quarter since 2000, from approximately 470,584 metric tons to 362,192 metric tons in 2016. But according to an Environmental Protection Agency equivalency calculator, that’s still enough carbon dioxide to match the greenhouse emissions from 76,899 cars in one year.
Why is an ostensibly progressive community like Charlottesville doing so poorly? Kruse has a few theories, including that the city’s current emissions reduction goal is weak, and the average income here is greater than the national average, so more people own bigger homes and additional vehicles.
“Another factor is that our city was not designed around a robust public transportation system,” she says. “Without an adequate base of affordable housing to serve our community, those who cannot afford to live in Charlottesville rely on their cars to get to work.”
Time for a change
There’s a bit of history to the city’s various attempts to reduce its footprint. In 2011, it committed to a community-wide greenhouse gas reduction goal of 10 percent below those 2000 baseline levels by 2035, a far less ambitious goal than other Virginia cities like Richmond, which has pledged to reduce emissions by 80 percent by 2025. But when city leaders signed on to the Global Covenantof Mayors in June 2017, they agreed to tackle a more aggressive, three-phase goal, which started with an inventory of citywide gas emissions, and will now require setting a new target for reduction, and the development of a climate action plan.
The time may be right, says Susan Elliott, Charlottesville’s Climate Protection Program manager. Given the changes in available technology, cost improvements, utilities integrating more renewables into their fuel mixes, and the city’s increased focus on affordable housing, “Charlottesville is both capable and at a timely point to adopt a new and more ambitious reduction goal,” Elliott says.
She gave the most recent update on this initiative to City Council in November, when she said the inventory phase was finished, and that residential energy, commercial energy, and transportation were the highest contributors to carbon dioxide emissions—at 29.8, 27, and 26.6 percent, respectively. The city then accepted public comments through March to give community members a chance to weigh in on a draft recommendation for an official reduction target and action plan, which will be presented to council May 6.
The Charlottesville Climate Collaborative is one of several groups urging what it calls a “best in class” climate goal of a 45 percent reduction (of 2010 emissions levels) by 2030, with the additional objective of total carbon neutrality by 2050. This is the threshold recommended by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, and one that Elliott says she expects her draft recommendations will reflect.
Albemarle officials recently proposed the same net zero goal for 2050.
But Anna Bella Korbatov, chair of the Cville100 Climate Coalition, says environmentalists are urging local leaders to do more than just set robust climate goals. In order to meet their target, she suggests committing to conducting a greenhouse gas inventory every two years, benchmarking progress, and making the data clearly available to the public to make the process more transparent.
And while Charlottesville is already taking steps to address climate change, areas in which the city could use some work include addressing equity issues, tree cover, and transportation, she adds.
Making goals a reality
“Energy efficiency work is really at the nexus of affordable housing and climate change action,” says Chris Meyer, the executive director of the Local Energy Alliance Program “It is not very sexy, but it delivers immediate results to reduce energy bills [and] related greenhouse gas emissions, and increases a low-income household’s quality of living.”
LEAP is tackling this issue head-on, and in 2018 it delivered free energy efficiency improvements—such as new insulation, LED light bulbs, and aerators for faucets and shower heads—to 475 low-income homes in Charlottesville and Albemarle, with financial support from the city, county, and Dominion Energy.
Charlotte and Ralph Terrell are grateful to the Local Energy Alliance Program for improvements that keep their home warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Photo: Eze Amos
Over the past several years, LEAP has made multiple improvements to Charlotte and Ralph Terrell’s home in the 10th and Page neighborhood, including insulating multiple walls, ceilings, and closets. They’ve also made safety enhancements to their dryer hose, installed an upstairs heating and cooling unit, and replaced 13 60-year-old windows.
“Our gas bill has gone down considerably because the house is holding the heat in the winter,” and staying cool in the summer, says Charlotte. “We are very, very thankful for that.”
One of the major challenges Meyer’s organization faces is identifying those in need. “There are resources available, we just have a tough time connecting with those who are eligible,” he says.
Another way to make a home—and a city—more efficient is quite simple, says Wild Virginia board member and lifelong nature lover Lil Williams. Look no further than the trees.
“You don’t have to recreate the wheel,” she says. “You have to plant the right kind of trees in the right place and you have to maintain them.”
Cities are heat islands that absorb and retain warmth, and are generally a few degrees warmer than rural areas. Planting shade trees is proven to decrease a city’s temperature from two to nine degrees based on the type and location, she says.
Due to increasing development and natural causes, Virginia cities are losing approximately 3,000 acres of trees per year, and globally, 20 percent of total greenhouse gas emissions can be attributed to deforestation, says Williams.
“In Charlottesville, we’ve cut down whole swaths of forest and put in apartments and shopping centers,” she adds.
While development may be inevitable, Williams recommends the city plant broad-leaf deciduous trees in more densely populated areas with higher pollution levels, such as near schools, hospitals, and in disadvantaged communities, where shade is proven to decrease the cost of air conditioning and electricity.
The city’s 2007 comprehensive plan established a goal of 40 percent tree cover, and a 2009 study found that number at 47 percent. When the city reassessed it in 2015, tree cover had decreased by 2 percent.
Williams expects tree cover has continued to decrease over time, and seemingly without a one-for-one replacement.
A 2018 city “greenprint” noted that, “while 45 percent is a good canopy coverage, the citywide percentage does not tell the whole story,” because 72 percent of that canopy was on private land, and increasing cover would require participation from the private and public sector.
The city’s urban forester, Mike Ronayne, says the tree commission has recently said it would like to instate a 50 percent canopy goal.
Aside from encouraging the planting of more trees, community activists also hope the city’s forthcoming climate action plan will include a better plan for regional transportation, which accounts for 26.6 percent of all local gas emissions.
City residents have long complained about the ineffectiveness of the Charlottesville Area Transit. “People have a hard time getting from point A to point B in a reasonable amount of time,” says C3’s Kruse. “The buses are not always reliable.”
She says the city should look at public transportation and its layout as an aspect of affordability and emissions reduction.
“It’s not just about whether Charlottesville is walkable or bikeable, it also has to have public transit for the people for whom those are not options,” she adds.
Signs of hope
But it’s not all bad news—there are some areas in which the city is successful. Charlottesville has been a leader in piloting and funding climate protection-related programs, including joining the U.S. Mayors Climate Protection Agreement in 2006, and drafting its vision for becoming a “green city” by 2025 three years later, CPG’s Elliott says.
In 2017, Charlottesville was the first Virginia city to earn a SolSmart designation, meaning city leaders incentivized going solar by hosting a community “solarize” campaign, reviewing zoning codes, and identifying and addressing restrictions that prohibited solar development.
Several city buildings—including the Smith Aquatic and Fitness Center, Fontaine Fire Station, and Lugo-McGinness Academy—have installed solar panel systems, and the city tracks their energy production. The solar arrays at Charlottesville High School, installed in 2012, supply about an eighth of the school’s annual electricity usage.
Some private companies have followed suit: Carter Myers Automotive in Albemarle, for example, recently built a solar array that covers more than 90 percent of the dealership’s energy use.
To meet a more ambitious carbon reduction goal, the city will also have to work with UVA, its largest employer. The university has its own climate goal—currently, it’s a 25 percent reduction of 2009 emission levels by 2025. Despite university growth, it has already reduced emissions by nearly 19 percent, says sustainability director Andrea Trimble, and is on a trajectory to meet its goal ahead of schedule. Like the city and county, UVA is in the process of developing a new sustainability plan and more aggressive climate goal, and Trimble says all three entities are working on coordinating their efforts.
Says Kruse, “We have leaders in our community who are stepping out and doing the right thing. What we need to do as a community is learn from those leaders and put forward new policies.”
Corrected April 17 at 1:43pm with the correct figure from the Environmental Protection Agency equivalency calculator.
Dr. Tarron Richardson at his introductory press conference last April. After a year and change, he's out as city manager. Photo: Eze Amos
City Council introduced its pick to be the city’s top executive April 15, and Mayor Nikuyah Walker urged citizens to be open to moving past “the way things have been done.”
Tarron Richardson, currently city manager of DeSoto, Texas, a Dallas suburb, was chosen out of 37 candidates in a process that’s taken almost a year. He said he intends to meet with staff, residents, and business owners to “make sure everyone is receiving the best service.”
Richardson says he’s not the type of CEO who’s rarely seen, and that he has an open-door policy.
Nor was he deterred by some Charlottesvillians’ confrontational style with city and elected officials. “That’s not unique to Charlottesville,” and he’s comfortable being in the hot seat, he said.
“If I’d been worried about being stressed, I never would have applied,” he said.
Richardson, 42, will earn $205,000. Before Texas, he worked two different stints in city government in Richmond, where he earned a Ph.D. from VCU.
While in Richmond, he said he was drawn to the vibrancy of Charlottesville when he came here during a Fridays After Five, and had always kept his eyes peeled for an opening in the city.
The new city manager, who starts May 13, also said he’s a UVA basketball fan. During the NCAA championship game, “I was probably the only one in Texas cheering for UVA,” he said.
Our voices bounce back at us as we speak. I’m one street over from the Downtown Mall in Megan Read’s studio, and it, like her paintings, has an uncluttered spaciousness about it.
Older finished works line part of a wall, and paintings in progress are set up at various heights on another. But the rest of the space lies mostly bare. Shiny wooden floors gleam. Pristine brick walls rise. A kitchenette area in the far corner poses as if it were part of a brand-new model home where no one has or might ever dare to cook, eat, or sip.
As I lower the microphone level on my handheld recorder to a safer setting, it occurs to me that this is the most immaculate art studio I’ve ever seen in my life.
Read explains that she hasn’t been working here all that long, hence the emptiness. Still, her studio could be held up as exemplary for many, an endgame that’s defined the early part of 2019: The Year to Seriously Clean House. The popularity of Marie Kondo has spurred a zeitgeist for living a clutter-free life shared only with the bare essentials (or at least those that “spark joy,” as Kondo says), and reassessing the importance of the objects we bring into our homes.
For Read, a tidy space is imperative. She says that she gets overwhelmed easily and feels stressed when engaging with a heavy sensory load. When I ask what the inside of her house looks like, she recounts the large lot of stuff she has, but notes that it stays contained, with curios like bird bones and nests stored in their proper places alongside more functional belongings like glassware.
Her works reflect this intrinsic need for unobstructed surroundings, and are partially responsible for her return to creating after multiple, years-long periods away from making art. After nearly a decade of suffering from depression and avoiding most human contact, Read used painting as a way to cycle through her own mental difficulties and to connect with others, both in showing her work and finding like-minded artists online. The act of painting continues to provide solace.
“A lot of the things I’ve been painting are about making quiet spaces for me,” she says. “And that’s also part of the reason I started drawing in the first place—and then painting again. It’s a break from all of the chaos. It’s a time where I don’t feel like I’m supposed to do anything else. There isn’t stuff coming at me and I don’t worry that I’m not doing the right thing, which for someone who is anxious, is a nice feeling.”
That feeling of detached simplicity is captured within paintings that are equally undisturbed by any mess. But as opposed to her bright studio, many of her pieces are rooted in a chiaroscuro treatment where figures appear coolly lit, emerging from a depth of field concealed in darkness, a heavily shadowed world without end.
Megan Read in her studio, Sanjay Suchak
Read’s new works for the upcoming show “OBJECTify,” opening at Second Street Gallery on Friday, April 5, with veteran local artist Michael Fitts, further explores her penchant for female subjects with obscured faces who occupy sparse environments—almost always with a few carefully chosen possessions.
As in earlier works like “Becoming,” whichfeatured a woman blindfolded by an Adidas headband, and “Furling,” which depicted a female figure holding up a pair of Nike sneakers by their laces, these new paintings commingle touches reminiscent of Old World, romantic nudes crossed with slices of hyperrealist visions. The overall effect may be, at times, disarmingly photographic, but Read contends that achieving photorealism isn’t her concern.
Read constructs images in Photoshop, which then function as rough working models for her paintings. But she insists there are major differences between the staging that she creates in software and the finished pieces.
“It’s funny, there are people who will see my stuff and be like, ‘Oh my god, it’s so realistic!’ But I pick details to put in. I will put in a bunch of actual hairs on the head and more wrinkles on the hands and feet. Otherwise, I don’t really care,” she says.
Driven by an urge to recreate what she sees in her mind, she’s less concerned with any message that her paintings might contain, and motivated by a subconscious pull toward perfecting the natural grace of the figure’s position. While her newer works’ main female subject co-stars with a finch, and in one case, a peacock, there are also a few select possessions: a tapestry, an iPhone, and a pair of surprisingly sunny yellow shoes that Read says she has in five colors, noting that she owns all the footwear in her paintings.
Shoes have become an ongoing trope that Read consciously incorporates. The aforementioned Nikes appear in multiple works. She admits that purchase was aspirational, since it took her 10 years to start wearing them after first bringing them home, harboring a wish to be the kind of person who would wear the suede Sprint Sister model.
“Actually, when I started painting them, I got to the point in my life where I stopped worrying about what people think and decided that I can wear bright blue sneakers,” she says. “My feet are the only place where I wear bright colors. They just seem to be representative of the way you want to present yourself. I think the shoes people wear say a lot.”
So while she’s adamant that she doesn’t choose the objects in her paintings for any symbolic reason, there may be something to what she says about the possessions already conveying specific messages. It makes sense. As a society, we like our things to say something about who we are.
But on the whole, Read tries not to ruminate too much on the items that find their way into her works. She lets her energies guide the process.
“Usually by the end, I start having thoughts about why I chose to put things there in the first place. And some of the choices start to make more sense. I think that there are themes I see repeating themselves that I am certainly not sitting down and planning out, but they just keep happening.”
The elements that recur in her paintings include hidden female faces, articles of women’s clothing, birds, and technology. If there is an overarching theme, it is a conflict between who we are, who we want to be, and what we wish for ourselves. Read’s works envision an inner strength, resilience, and the potential of freedom, but also reveal weakness in the face of all that life demands. They demonstrate a comfort with our own bodies, but also uncover the threat of doubt and, perhaps, a weakness to hold on to those mere things—favorite shoes, the ubiquitous cellphone—that have also come to define us.
Michael Fitts in his studio. Photo: Sanjay Suchak
I’m really not sure how Michael Fitts can work like this.
His counterpart in the “OBJECTify” exhibition could probably park an SUV in her studio, but he paints in much closer quarters.
Fitts is partly to blame for his condition. An ever-growing collection of what is usually dismissed as junk—toy parts, game pieces, food wrappers, vintage oil cans, and 40-year-old drug store staples—monopolizes the room. These are the items that feature in his work. He crouches under a lamp, mere inches from the floor, hunched in a kneeling position that resembles religious prostration. His setup looks extremely uncomfortable. By nightfall, the studio is mostly dark, barring the penetrating spotlight focus of the work bulb, and increasingly restrictive thanks to the tenuous heaps of his amassed stuff.
The artifacts from his paintings peek out of the piles. They recall moments of a 1970s upbringing among dad’s hardware detritus, mom’s dress patterns, and after-school candy store splurges. You might think he would feel overwhelmed by the amount of accumulated clutter in his studio, and he admits that it’s started to encroach on the work area he’s carved out in the center of the room. Yet for all of the chaos, he’s got his own system of organization and he’s determined to hold on to the bulk of his stuff.
“Some of it I’ve let go. But over the years, I’ve started keeping it. I did a painting of a popcorn box once when I was getting started, and after I finished it, I threw the box away. Then I sold that painting and I wanted to do it again. So after that I just started keeping everything—unless it’s something like a melting chocolate bar that I can just buy again. I have everything that I’ve painted.”
Michael Fitts’ “McCall’s 4183,” 2019, oil on copper
His reasons for collecting what others might toss stems from a sincere hope that he will capture it later in his art. The works Fitts has planned for the Second Street show continue his fascination with recreating singular items on metal “canvases,” in this case copper—perhaps a link to his former life as a sign painter. Like Read, he tries not to overthink the process of what possessions he chooses to paint or their potential meaning.
His works are simple: one painting, one object. But they have effectively stirred emotional responses for years. They are depictions of things, yes, recognizable and perhaps mundane, but by no means devoid of deep emotive qualities. Fitts’ art nails down what might otherwise blow into the trees. He holds these disposable items up as emblems of a time when his future was untethered by responsibility, and his universe was packaged in the vibrant comfort of brands you could trust. He is a master of reproducing mid-to-late-20th-century artifacts with the far-reaching power of recalling our secret remembrances and cherished dreams of youth.
As Americans, that longing to own stuff —and the sentiments those things elicit—reveals a commercialism that tends to get tied to trademarks. When I mention that both he and his fellow “OBJECTify” artist often display brand names in their art, Fitts says he strove to paint more generic objects in the past. But he stopped thinking about the potential impact of trademarked corporate names and logos when he opted to follow a Pop Art aesthetic. It frees him to reframe whatever he fancies as a work of art without ascribing any secondary meaning. “I like to try to strip away as much narrative as I possibly can,” he says.
He’s also keenly aware that he’s not the first to appropriate consumer goods and that duplicating the artful packaging that covers them follows a Warhol-like tradition, perhaps best described by a friend calling him a “Pop Realist.”
Whereas Read’s hyperrealism and product placement are byproducts of a therapeutic painting process for calming her mind, Fitts is motivated by the act of copying his subject with machine-like accuracy—and without affecting the object of his interest by injecting his own interpretation of it. That goal is the consequence of a long art career that was never built upon his imagination. Years ago, he painted in an abstract style for a period, but for him, the less concrete compositions took considerably more effort.
“Abstract art is so much harder, because you’re trying to let something flow out of you, whereas I’m just painting a Q-Tip box. You don’t really need an artistic mind. The artistic mind part is concept.”
With paintings like “Skate,” “Box of Chocolates,” and “Potato Chips,” it’s nearly impossible to believe that Fitts doesn’t find the whole thing a bit funny. But the VCU graphic design school grad swears that he is completely genuine about what he does and expects to be taken seriously. And he definitely should be, as even if some of it is a bit of a laugh, Fitts’ works’ comic potency never belies ingenious artistic concepts and an exceptional capability for accuracy.
“I did a painting a couple of years ago of a Heinz ketchup packet that had been stomped on, with the ketchup splattered. People thought it was hilarious. And it was, but I don’t even know why. Other times, I’ve had people ask, ‘What made you think that you could do a Pond’s Cold Cream as a painting?’ And again, I don’t know. That’s the mystery. The rest of it is just execution,” he says.
Fitts’ “Skate,” 2019, oil on copper
“I’m not that creative,” Read says shrugging. It’s an odd self-assessment, but a cutting and introspective viewpoint she shares with how Fitts sees himself. It’s also another reason that pairing the two for the Second Street show makes sense beyond the skillful photographic accuracy they produce with their brushes.
Strangely, “OBJECTify” is the culmination of many real-life narrative threads that came to light when Read first hung her piece “Resistance/Resilience,” a painting of a nude woman dropping hay for a sheep.
“My wife and I used to walk every morning to get coffee at Mudhouse,” Fitts recalls. “We walked in there and saw Megan’s painting and I was like, ‘What the hell is this?!’ I hadn’t ever seen anyone in Charlottesville doing anything like she was doing. So new, unusual, and well-executed. I thought it could easily be at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts.”
He reached out to her, and the two met. She recalls being ecstatic that she was going to be having a conversation with someone she considered a real artist. As it turned out, when Read was first learning to paint at 16—in the same building that houses her new studio—she saw Fitts’ art at Mudhouse and had her own epiphany: “Holy shit—that’s what I want to do!” she recalls thinking. “I feel like that’s exactly what should be made. I want to make exactly what he’s making.”
Clearly, Read’s artistic journey veered from Fitts’, but they are both capable of faultless execution and an uncanny ability to render stunning detail with brushstrokes.
Fitts recalls that Read was concerned about filling the walls for a show she was planning, and he offered to “take up some of the space.” Right around the same time, Second Street’s executive director and chief curator Kristen Chiacchia approached the artists about producing a joint exhibition at the nonprofit gallery. It was a serendipitous moment.
“It’s Second Street’s mission to bring the best contemporary art to central Virginia—and in this case, I didn’t have to search far,” says Chiacchia. “Charlottesville has two local artists working in the New Precisionist style of painting equal to what’s currently being shown in top galleries in New York.”
“Flowers Without Vessel,” by Megan Read, 2018, oil on linen.
And how do the artists expect their new works to be received? Undoubtedly, people will gasp at the trompe l’oeil realness that Read and Fitts serve. Yet they each hope viewers will freely give their paintings the meanings that they’ve left for them to convey on their behalf.
Read says she imagines that because of her paintings’ intentional emptiness, what does remain are reliable targets for accepting the emotional projection of any invested viewer. She cites a touching moment when a woman justified an urgent exit by noting that her male companion began welling up at “Resistance/Resilience.”
“I definitely don’t want to make people cry, but it makes me really happy that somebody had a moment,” Read says. “That’s really what I want: people to have a moment that’s meaningful for them.”
In Fitts’ estimation, his paintings’ lack of narrative leaves a wide berth for others to call back to their own childhood memories and hit a soft spot. He says that those endless opportunities for what each object might recall for viewers is his raison d’être.
Now his only concern is that his part of the show holds up to Read’s.
“I told Megan that I hope I can keep from embarrassing myself when I look at what she’s doing.” He considers how their work diverges: “Hers definitely has a dark, psychologically tortured feel,” Fitts says, pausing to chuckle, “whereas mine is like…oil can.”
But the things that capture our attention resonate in ways unimagined. Read and Fitts will likely be surprised when they discover the meanings viewers bestow on their latest paintings, strangers stepping closer to scrutinize their artistry, mentally taking possession of things that, once seen, immediately belong to all of us.
Since the 1980s, the Pink Warehouse on South Street has been home to local artists of many kinds.
Staff photo
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.
