One last rip
The vanishing of creative and DIY spaces in Madison is indicative of a larger social problem
Vol. 28
ESSAY | NOW READ THIS | NOW WATCH THIS | FINAL FRAME
I remember the first time I stepped foot into the Dustbowl. My friends and I were shooting an episode of our web series, “Chapel,” and had a connection with one of the keyholders at the very DIY, very illegal indoor skate park space where we were going to film a fight scene.
The Dustbowl occupied one section of a large warehouse complex on Madison’s near south side, a space that was clearly only affordable for the myriad ways it broke fire and safety codes.
At the time we made our show, there wasn’t yet a public Madison skatepark. There still isn’t an official indoor park–something of a necessity in a place with winters like ours. But there have always been determined groups of skaters building mini ramps and bowls in backyards and warehouses and other small, ramshackle spaces. They pool their money, everyone chips in with the build and upkeep, and throw parties to raise funds to keep things going.
I had the good fortune to be present for the final party at Forward Living, the most recent (and arguably most successful) such DIY skate space in Madison. They’d posted up in one of the buildings that was part of the same complex of warehouses where the Dustbowl had been (and since closed down), collectively building both an indoor and outdoor facility for skaters to enjoy year-round. It took a lot of sweat and time and love to put together, and that was evident in the joyous, communal vibe of the party. But it was also bittersweet. Forward Living is being kicked out of its space so the whole complex can be redeveloped, something that was in the works even before a massive fire destroyed the other section of buildings this spring–the one where the Dustbowl had been, and where a number of local artists still had their workshops (read this excellent Cap Times piece for more of that story).
I’d felt it was only a matter of time before something like that happened. I’m sure others did, too. But as with death, we try not to think about it, enjoying the time we have without the burden of worrying about a sadder inevitable future.
My band, Damsel Trash, played a couple shows in a DIY venue called the Vault that also popped up in those warehouses for a couple of years, another cooperatively managed venture of dubious legality. To use the restroom, we had to cross a gravel drive and enter the warehouses, walk down a long, dimly lit hallway and past those artist studios that are all now ashes. There were no sprinkler systems and no fire alarms.
I feel for everyone who lost their work, their equipment, their space to the fire and to the redevelopment. Madison does desperately need more truly affordable housing (especially as we officially hit “most increased home prices in the nation” status), which is part of the plan for the area. I hope to hell we get that part right, at least. But I can’t help but notice that it’s getting harder and harder for my fellow creative folks to find space for their art, music, and community in this city. Between skyrocketing rents, new developments that don’t replace old facilities, and the general state of our deeply inequitable economy, it’s hardly possible for artists, makers, musicians, and skaters to live here, let alone work.
Our city loves to tout how creative we are, how vibrant the art and culture. That’s absolutely true. But if we don’t seriously step up our game when it comes to meaningfully supporting creative people and making sure people can afford to live in the city at all, then what do we expect to happen to that vibrant scene?
It’s a tale that’s already too much of a trope in this country: gentrification pushes out the longtime residents, the young people, the immigrants, the creative folks, who all made the area beautiful and interesting in the first place. What began downtown is spreading outward, pushing people into outlying communities. The music venues are being bought up by the Ticketmaster/Live Nation monopoly. Students are expected to take out massive loans just to afford living in the luxury apartments that have supplanted truly affordable places. “Starter homes” basically don’t exist (at last count, there were just 10 homes–including condos–within city limits that were listed for sale for less than $300,000.
Smarter people than I know how to do development and planning without fucking everything up for everyone but the very wealthy. But it does require that we collectively decide to do that, to prioritize an equitable and diverse community with good opportunities for people of all ages, interests, cultures, etc. to thrive. We have to decide that real estate developers and other monied interests don’t get to decide for us what’s best. Budgets are moral documents, after all. And yes, Wisconsin currently has onerous restrictions on local control and shared revenue that make this all the more difficult (though there’s a good argument for breaking those laws). So it’s a larger project we need to engage in, and it’ll take time, but the consequences of doing nothing will impact all of us eventually, whether you know it or not.
Even if you don’t care about a bunch of skater punks trying to carve out a space for themselves, or independent music venues, or local artists and makers. If you enjoy living in a place with fun things to see and do and hear, or cool art to decorate your home, or hell, people to make your fancy-ass coffee in the morning, having an affordable and diverse community is essential.
We said our farewells to the rundown, dirty complex of buildings on South Park Street the best way we knew how: with celebration, illegal fireworks, a potluck, live bands, and one last rip. I have hope that this little community will find a way forward, because they are a community and they know how to work together to make something out of nothing.
But I also hope that we decide, collectively, to make it even a little bit easier for everyone who wants to live and work and create here to do that without quite so much stress. With a little help from our friends…and our city.
P.S. If you’re curious about that web series we made back in the day (and to see what the Dustbowl looked like), you can watch the two part episode here and here. Content warning for a sexual assault storyline and a bloody fight scene. (If you want to watch the series from the beginning, start here).
Now Read This.
“So where are we all supposed to go now?” [David Piece for The Verge]
…the social web is changing in three crucial ways: It’s going from public to private; it’s shifting from growth and engagement, which broadly involves building good products that people like, to increasing revenue no matter the tradeoff; and it’s turning into an entertainment business. It turns out there’s no money in connecting people to each other, but there’s a fortune in putting ads between vertically scrolling videos that lots of people watch. So the “social media” era is giving way to the “media with a comments section” era, and everything is an entertainment platform now. Or, I guess, trying to do payments. Sometimes both. It gets weird.
“Show this to anyone who says renewables are unreliable” [Arielle Samuelson for Heated]
Texas broke the record for electricity demand as people ran their air conditioning to survive the heat of the day. According to Lewin, more than one-third of that power—35 to 40 percent—was supplied by solar and wind energy. “I really think solar and storage are really the stories of the summer,” he said.
Now Watch This.
I did a lil’ explainer video for work about all the damn smoke in the air and how it’s connected to climate change and our need to do more controlled burns!
Final Frame.
It’s tomato time. My garden has spoken.
‘Til Next Time.
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