We did what no
other neighborhood has done. It's a story in which the arts
had a voice, they had an identity, they were a part of the
community process.
-- Anna Abraham
With her white hair, large gray eyes and fondness for words
like "alchemy" and "magic," Anna Abraham could easily land
the part of fairy godmother in a play about the history
of Old Town. But Abraham, who manages the Everett Station
Lofts building, used to be called The Communicator. That
was when she worked as an organizer for the San Francisco
Arts Festival, where she earned a reputation as someone
with a knack for closing the gap between artists and the
city's municipal bodies. Ten years ago, Abraham brought
that knack north to Portland and helped to turn around one
of Old Town's twitchiest blocks, known at the time as Crack
Corner.
As the manager of Everett Station, Abraham waged two turf
wars: one to save the block from drug dealers, another to
save the building from real-estate dealers. In the era of
the condo, Everett Station maintains affordable rentals
for artists to live and show their work in. The key to it
all, Abraham says, was holding the ground that artists cultivated.
WW associate arts editor Michaela Lowthian, a tenant
in the Everett Station Lofts, recently met with Abraham
to discuss her decade in the neighborhood and some new developments,
such as the city's plans to convert the nearby Kalberer
Food Service building into a center for creative professions.
Willamette Week: How did you end up in Old Town?
Anna Abraham: When we first came to Portland we were fascinated
by Everett Station. But every time we tried to get in to
see it, no one would answer the buzzer. Over a period of
three or four years we could never find a way to get in.
Then one day there was an ad in the paper seeking management.
What was the neighborhood like
at that time?
It was 1990, and the building was surrounded by drug dealers--about
25 at any given time on the block. I was coming up on 50
years of age, and I didn't want to get into the middle of
that whole drug thing. But they offered us this beautiful
loft, and the potential was just so great. I said, 'I'll
take you out of the red.'
What was your plan?
The building was half-empty at the time. But the first
thing I had to do was decide what I was going to do with
the street. I thought about it and realized why the last
managers had never come to the door. They were afraid. So
I got my broom, and I put on my rags, and I started sweeping
the sidewalk. The first few days everyone was looking at
me, but I was persistent. I didn't say anything. One day
I set my broom down and stared into space and stood near
them. This big guy said, 'Lady, what are you doing?' And
I said, 'I'm investing my spirit on the street. What are
you doing?'
How did other people in the neighborhood react?
When I arrived, everybody said, 'Nothing can be done.'
Because I was new, I had a different sense. I didn't know
then that this corner was known as Crack Corner. It became
human once I got some artists in there. The goal was to
create a neighborhood. We decided to do something to attract
attention: the can project.
What was that?
We put 13 faces from the community on the faces of cans.
I contacted all the media, and they all came. After that,
the business association and the neighborhood associations
contacted me. They were adversaries at the time. One group
represented the businesses and the other the social services.
I said I would get involved if they formed an alliance.
So we set about designing Operation About-Face. I applied
for a couple of grants, and I was awarded all of them to
run a beautification and a media campaign to change the
public perception.
How did it change?
Multiple dynamics converged. I went to the various associations
and said, 'Now's the time.' Once that grass roots [movement]
gets going, it can't fulfill its mission without creating
partnerships. To turn a neighborhood around is a monumental
effort. At the same time Vera Katz had just been elected
mayor, and one of her priorities, she said, was to get Old
Town cleaned up. That was the magic key. The police brought
in the FBI, and they just kept running one mission after
another. The synergy just happened. I enjoyed the alchemy.
We had everything down here: the Chinese Community, the
nightclub owners, the Naito family, the gas company, all
the major players and a gorgeous array of maverick small
business. It was magic.
What role did Everett Station play?
The artists who were courageous enough to live on the street
level drew people down here. This became the anchor property
that paved the way for all of Old Town.
Are you worried about becoming victims of your own success?
We wanted to maintain this as a place for rentals for artists.
We organized and fought to maintain this as affordable rentals.
It was a year-and-a-half battle. We thought we might buy
the building ourselves, but the owner was in a hurry to
sell. So I called Artspace--they're artists, but they're
also savvy real-estate people. I did a cold call and pleaded
our case. They were able to outbid the developer.
What's so important about keeping artists in a specific
building?
If we lose those artists, then the gentrification process
is under way. It is critical that we keep the creative folks
here. So goes Everett Station, so goes Old Town. We're interested
in balanced revitalization. We did what no other neighborhood
has done. It's a story in which the arts had a voice, they
had an identity, they were a part of the community process,
so therefore they weren't driven out in the end. We were
the keepers
of the gate.
Tell me about the future use of the Kalberer building.
It's going to be a center for advertising, architecture,
people on the cutting edge of computer arts.
Why is that important?
There was a concentrated mass of social services. In order
to get balance, we had to create additional housing in a
wide range of incomes to keep the neighborhood alive and
expanding. This is social engineering. That may be a dirty
word, but how can the businesses thrive without folks who
can go in there and spend money?
Will Old Town be considered part of the Pearl
one day?
The die is cast. The city, in its zeal to create districts,
has created the River District. For now we have a separate
identity. If they can honor it, we will continue to be the
city's historic district. But if we dilute it little by
little, then we will just become homogenized into the River
District.
|
