Recovery, Where Art Thou? Part II
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by G.W. Schulz, the Urban Tulsa, 02/24/2005
Small business doing it for themselves and Tulsa. Can we count on the creative Class of 2005 to help build the future?
"It was a dream that took me away from here, and a dream can bring me home."
-Tom Waits
In the report following Mayor Lafortune's 2002 Vision Summit, hardly a page passes without a reference to the need to attract and retain a bigger portion of the creative class in Tulsa.
Members of the so-called "creative class" are young, sophisticated, unmarried, presumably semi-wealthy and simply uninterested in seeing a stage production of The Lion King or eating dinner at Applebee's. They want more, and if they can't get it here, they'll go elsewhere.
Apparently, they've been going elsewhere. Former Tulsa Mayor Rodger Randle noted at the Vision Summit that the city's fastest declining age group is 25 to 34. The Tulsa metropolitan statistical area's net domestic migration in 2003 was -3,155, the second time in three years the city showed a loss, according to census numbers.
The cities that continue to attract the creative class are perceived as having an identity; these cities are identified by key institutions such as home-grown music venues, unusual shops, celebrated local eateries, independent theaters, and a thriving alternative press - ultimately, local businesses that young folks come to know and love.
This notion hasn't escaped city leaders entirely. The mayor's strategy for recovering retail sales taxes includes "developing attractions and specific retail development in Tulsa, which cannot be replicated in the suburban communities. . ." as he said in his September State of the City Address.
Small, independent retail "attractions" happen to be a major component in keeping young talent around. (For the record, "young talent" doesn't always have a gang of cash to spend on expensive microbrews downtown, but youthful brains fortify urban centers nonetheless.)
Next Generation Consulting keeps tabs on just this sort of thing. In a report drafted by Next Generation founder Rebecca Ryan in 2002, she argues that as Baby Boomers retire and the labor pool shrinks, the next generation will be in a better position to focus more on the communities they want to live in rather than the companies they work for.
"Talent Capitals will redefine our corporate landscape," she writes. "Companies need talent. Talent demands a great community. It's a virtuous balancing act that America's most progressive communities are pursuing with vigor."
Ryan also says that for young workers, corporate loyalty is dead. They either take a job because it's located in a cosmopolitan community, or they establish their own visionary businesses in urban locations and fancy themselves a part of a larger, progressive counterculture.
Time magazine reported in 2002 that four out of five new businesses were established by Gen X'ers. In other words, bosses suck.
"This is a seismic shift in how we think about economic development, corporate recruitment and community planning," Ryan wrote.
Indeed, the promotion of small, independent businesses also happens to be an important part of any strategy to recover a young workforce, particularly if part of your young workforce is rejecting the suffocating corporate culture of older firms and simultaneously patronizing and establishing its own business concepts downtown. Now it's time for city leaders to take notice of who these people are.
The young and the restless
Matt Anderson and Brian Anthamatten are trying hard to make their own contribution.
The two waited three years quietly searching for a building downtown within their price range that they could convert into a mid-sized music, food and booze venue. They finally found a sizable space last year at 1643 S. Boulder Ave.
Formally the Magician's Theater, the place once hosted the likes of Willie Nelson, Leon Russell and Eric Clapton. But for the last four years, the building has sat dormant. For Anderson and Anthamatten, it was perfect.
"I can't tell you how many older people are really excited about us doing something here again," Anderson said.
The pair saw a void in music spaces, watching off-the-radar bands pack venues in every Midwest city but Tulsa. To put it bluntly, Tulsa's current roster of venues can offer only so much, as far as they're concerned. They spread the word that they were starting something new, and two early shows drew large crowds and went off without a hitch. No drunken brawls. No murders. No underage drinking.
"There are tons of bands that come through here all the time, but they don't stop, because nobody is trying to bring 'em," Anderson said. "[They're passing through] on I-40 going on to St. Louis and Chicago, and nobody's trying to book the stuff."
Anderson and Anthamatten hoped "The Boulder Mooch" would change all that. The sketch includes a light, diverse lunch and dinner menu (an immense service for a commercial neighborhood sorely lacking in lunch restaurant options), a happy hour and drinks and music in the evening. A large stage is already in place, and the duo moves closer everyday to a grand opening.
Yet the plan hasn't been without obstacles. The two attempted to have the building rezoned out of heavy commercial to serve only as a bar and music venue, a problem compounded by zoning ordinances that prohibit the existence of two bars within 300 ft. of one another in the neighborhood (Renegade's is nearby at 1647 S. Main St.).
But an appeal to the Board of Adjustment went south when some surly neighbors complained at a Jan. 11 meeting that The Mooch would bring trouble to the neighborhood. William Jones, representing Veteran Properties, which owns at least nine properties in the area including the MAPCO Building at 1717 S. Boulder, insinuated repeatedly that the bar would attract beer bottles, noise and vandalism.
It's difficult to imagine tenants in an office building negatively impacted by live music taking place after typical office hours. Nonetheless, Jones said rezoning would set a precedent that would welcome more bars. Such establishments bring "social ills," according to another detractor, who also recalled a shooting that took place in the neighborhood 40 years ago, suggesting such crime would return.
Anderson and Anthamatten attempted to quell fears by offering to meet with the NIMBYs, but the concerned parties refused, Anderson said. Anderson said virtually everyone else in the neighborhood has been supportive. For the record, no residences exist in the immediate area.
"We're not out to be a thorn in anybody's side," Anderson said. "We want to give back and participate."
The Board of Adjustment, nonetheless, did not agree. So now the two will keep with what their current zoning allows - 51 percent food sales and 49 percent alcohol sales. While that ratio initially seemed challenging, they're willing to make it happen with lunch and dinner hours beyond what they had originally planned.
"This is something we want to do really bad. . ." Anderson said. "We don't want a nightclub. We don't want fights. We just want a cool place where people can come and do something different."
Even former congressional candidate Doug Dodd turned out for one of the Mooch's early shows, decked in a freshly pressed suit, to rub elbows with rockers, hipsters, artists and simple entertainment seekers just days before the November election.
While Dodd's gesture was polite, it hasn't been enough to keep Anderson and Anthamatten's neighbors from assuming the worst. But the two remain determined.
"The place has been packed both times we tried to do something," Anderson said. "The crowds were very respectful and didn't cause any problems at all. . .We still have our own building. We still have the opportunity to be our own bosses and set in motion these things we still want."
The nightingale and the rose
Yes, the Opera and Ballet are important institutions in Tulsa. But rebel theater is just so much more controversially fun.
The folks who established the Nightingale Theater, located at 1416 E. Fourth St., couldn't be described as anything less than people with big ideas. After struggling to secure space for alternative theater productions at facilities around the city, The Midwestern Theater Troupe finally decided to open their own playhouse.
Amber Whitlatch and her husband Jeff went on the road to work for Williams Communications in the '90s for a year, just long enough to save money for a space. They came back and bought what turned out to be the perfect building smack in the middle of a warehouse district just north of Peoria. With their two other partners, Jeff and Sara Cruncleton (Jeff writes most of the scripts for the Midwestern Troupe), they opened for business in February of 2000.
"We immediately filled such a huge void we had no idea about," Amber said.
The Nightingale became a flashpoint for new theater productions. The Theatre Club formed and began booking the Nightingale and putting on performances right away. The Club produced sell-out shows of the Vagina Monologues in 2001 in 30-degree weather, well before the building even had a heating system. Former Mayor Susan Savage turned out for one show. The show was so popular, office chairs and couches were pulled out into the auditorium for additional seating.
"We would have pulled out the toilet for somebody to sit on if we could have," Amber said.
Within a 500-mile radius, troupes were calling incessantly hoping to perform at the theater. Additional inquiries came from as far as Brazil, Japan, Austin and Portland, Ore.
"They didn't have a place to play, but we were affordable, because money is not our focus," Amber said. "Our goal is not capital."
While Tulsa requires less capital than some places to pursue a venture, such charming, art-driven idealism hasn't always made things easy for the theater. The electricity was turned off for failure to pay a few years ago mere hours before the Renegade Bar's Twisted Theater improv troupe was scheduled to perform, and the crew was forced to make due with candles and two hastily purchased spotlights from Home Depot.
To make matters worse, the theater's water was recently turned off, and the gas could go at any moment. Revenue comes largely from ticket sales and extremely modest rent rates troupes pay to reserve the venue. Donations to the non-profit Midwestern Troupe haven't even crested $5,000 in five years. But as Amber says, Oscar Wilde's The Nightingale and the Rose is a story about sacrifice.
Amber, too, sees the Nightingale in the larger context of Tulsa moving forward. With the energy her and her partners had, they weren't willing to wait for anyone else to construct an alternative theater in Tulsa. She said if the city won't powerfully encourage the business of curiosity, then they'll do it themselves.
"It's not going to be Starbucks," Amber said. "But it is going to have comfy seats."
And that's precisely the attitude of that ever-so-attractive next generation. And what does that next generation want?
"They want Poona the Fuckdog," Amber said. "They don't want to see The Odd Couple. They want to see vital, original, contemporary and provocative work. . .they're sick of Greater Tuna and Miracle on 34th St. [They'll] drive and spend Tulsa's dollars elsewhere if they have to."
Ouch. That, Mr. Mayor, might be your cue to head down to the Nightingale for their newest production, Cruncleton's Down the ol' Hole, this week. Do you really want anyone reminding you that Savage has already seen the place? And don't worry; if the water's still off, they'll probably let you piss out back by the train tracks.
The fine print
A good sign appeared last month when three state legislators proposed an "enterprise zone" for north Tulsa.
"(We) were trying to create a zone that would provide extra incentive for businesses to locate and expand," said District 72 Rep. Darrell Gilbert (D).
Problem is, swaths of downtown are already part of a state enterprise zone, a state opportunity zone and a Tax Increment Financing District, which enables sales or property taxes to be reinvested in capital improvements in areas such as the East Village downtown.
"Opportunity zones" are those census tracts in which at least 30 percent of the residents have an annual gross household income from all sources below federal poverty guidelines. The zones allow employers to benefit from the Oklahoma Quality Jobs Program while remaining exempt from certain portions of the Quality Jobs Act (which includes a plan for small employers), such as the revised wage threshold introduced in 2003.
Businesses located in enterprise zones are eligible to receive double the Investment/New Jobs Tax Credit and may receive certain tax exemptions for extended lengths of time.
But Gilbert simply didn't know about all of this. The problem, it seems, is publicity.
"I wasn't aware of what was available, so I'm sure a lot of business owners aren't aware," Gilbert said.
Additionally, downtown received a major blow in September when the Tulsa World reported that St. Louis-based developer Desco Group pulled out of plans to help revitalize the East Village. The East Village is bordered by Seventh Street, Detroit Avenue, U.S. 75 and the Burlington Northern Santa Fe rail line.
The Target Corp, Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. and Bass Pro Shops had all been potential candidates for placement in the Village, but Desco was having trouble attracting the major retailers to the area. While the development of loft space residential housing continues in the Village, the appearance of major retail in the area is uncertain.
But the locals have remained committed and the template is still in place to further create a local identity for Tulsa. So why not a Business Oddities Tax Incentive Plan to continue encouraging locals to establish businesses downtown? The Brady District has already benefited from tax increments, and the East Village could be next without anyone bothering to wait for Wal-Mart.
Visitors to Lawrence, Kan. remember the Free State Brewing Company and the state's celebrated history of radical slave abolitionism before they mention the Wal-Mart location off Iowa Street. The buildings on Lawrence's Massachusetts Street that house local businesses feature plaques highlighting their survival of Quantrill's Raid in 1863. Historical identity sells and Sam Walton never met Jayhawk hero John Brown, something Lawrence figured out a long time ago.
Many of the businesses mentioned in Part III next week are just blocks from the Tulsa Development Authority's digs at 111 S. Greenwood. How about you all meet at McNellies for cold beers and tax breaks, new lights and streetscapes? The Nightingale would offer the space, but their water just got shut off, and The Mooch still doesn't know when and if they'll be selling beer.