Mark Stehle
Andrea Clearfield's Salon space, photographed in September 2009
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[ endangered spaces ]
Composer/pianist Andrea Clearfield started her salon — a place where artists could converge, perform and create — in her T-shaped apartment on Spruce Street in 1986. Today it's a cherished institution, but its days appear to be numbered.
The issue is space. Just three years after founding what she simply titled the Salon, she was hosting capacity crowds and hunting for a larger venue. She found what she was looking for in a century-old building off 16th Street in Center City, a spot that boasted a third-floor loft with 25-foot ceilings and balconies and was, in its previous incarnations, home to both an art studio and a theater company. "I had a vision for the Salon in that space — to continue the history of arts in the building," says Clearfield from Arcosanti, Ariz., where she's working with Philly's Group Motion Dance. "Although the owners [at the time] were not ready to rent or sell then, I sent holiday cards each year, expressing my interest."
It wasn't until September 2003 that Clearfield got her wish and began a long-term rental deal with the current owners. The concept's been growing ever since; she now hosts performances by large and small assemblies of choruses, dance companies, chamber, world music and jazz groups.
"Over 24 years, the Salon has built a supportive, enthusiastic, diverse community around this ritual of gathering in my home to celebrate the spirit of music," says Clearfield. "It is my calling and my passion to continue to be the gatekeeper for this space."
But as she looks ahead to her 25th year, this gatekeeper faces a huge obstacle: She recently received an e-mail from the building's owners announcing their intentions to sell the property to the tune of $1 million. And scrounging up that kind of money is no easy task for a composer/salon operator.
"My initial reaction was twofold — a deep sadness, as I've had a history with the house, and at the same time, an impulse to be proactive, to do whatever possible to maintain the house for the Salon."
Much like she did when she first fell in love with the old house, she reached out — not with messages of holiday cheer, but with missives to save the Salon. That phrase has become the slogan of Clearfield's relentless summer-long e-mail campaign; and like any good campaign, she assembled a steering committee. Her cohorts include Jennifer Kopp Lewis, Group Motion's Manfred Fischbeck, Elliot Blake, Ben Gall and Ben Bingham, all of whom began begging Clearfield's salon-devoted constituency — as well as investors in the arts — to help.
"The committee came up with the following approaches," Clearfield says: "Start a nonprofit with the intent to purchase the building; find a music-minded real-estate investor, who sees this unique building as a long-term investment and is willing to rent it to me and my fellow residents for a longer period; or find a music institution or foundation that focuses on the arts that's willing to jump in to save the Salon."
Since then she's received heartwarming responses as well as offers of monetary donations, grant proposals, financial and legal advice, real-estate tips, alternative spaces to house the Salon (including people's own homes, music schools, churches, music stores, yoga centers and other salons in Philly). Still, Clearfield's waiting on a guardian angel to come forward, purchase the building and save the Salon.
"The most promising response has been from a prospective buyer who has attended the Salon and is considering purchasing the house to rent to me as an investment," says Clearfield. "This is not definite, but it is our best chance."
For more information, visit andreaclearfield.com.
Quand le son
de la nuit
m'appelle
tendrement
j'écoute la lumière
des visages
solitaires comme
le chant du
matin qui décrit
le sourire.
Francesco Sinibaldi