Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Inside the Collingwood Arts Center

Last week marked the end of an era in the Toledo arts community. On Tuesday, January 21, The Collingwood Arts Center announced the end of its artists in residency program. At a resident meeting, the CAC's board of directors gave the building's 28 residents a 30-day eviction notice. The board also maintained that the center would continue to offer rented studio space for interested artists. The announcement comes in the midst of one of the most bitter winters in recent memory, and has many people—including residents—raising ethical concerns toward the CAC. The center's administration, however, insist that the winter itself is part of the problem. The building's heating and plumbing systems sustained damage during the Polar Vortex event in early January and, according to the board, the building can no longer keep up its end of the landlord-tenant agreements that CAC residents signed. Those damages are just the latest items on a list of damages several pages long.

But what are these damages? Catastrophic changes, like the pipe that burst in early January, are rare. Most of the Collingwood's issues, according to residents and administration, stem from years of wear and tear with insufficient repair and maintenance work. According to Sarah Kurfis, Interim Executive Director of the Collingwood, as well as allegations by Collingwood residents, the Center has a long history of mismanagement. The Center only recently hired a full-time bookkeeper, and its financial record present a twisted paper trail. Where every dollar and cent of revenue has gone remains to be seen, but the cost of mismanagement is plainly visible.

The City Paper visited the CAC shortly after the eviction announcement, where we were given unfettered access into locked parts of the 108-year-old building. The following photographs document the living conditions of the Center's residents.

 

Sarah Kurfis, Interim Executive Director of the Collingwood, says she feels the weight of the eviction announcement, but maintains that it is the only course of action the Center can take at this time. She is the sixth Executive Director of the building in twelve years (The City Paper covered that massive turnover in a 2012 with previous Executive Director Mary Sawers). The CAC's residents have sometimes carried a reputation of ill-repute, but according to Kurfis the residents themselves did not factor into the eviction, although she did admit that on taking her position as Executive Director, she recommended to the board that the residency program be phased out over a period of several months. Kurfis admitted that even though the CAC's current residents collectively owe over $10 thousand in back rent, that the residency program is the Center's primary source of revenue. "We are taking a huge financial hit," she said.

 

The Lois M. Nelson Theater has always been the most aesthetically pleasing room in the Collingwood. Built with the acoustics of opera in mind, it remains one of the most beautiful performance spaces in the greater Toledo area. Sadly, water damage from the Collingwood's damaged roof are eroding its ceiling. Kurfis, and Sawers before her, have expressed that revenue from the theater is one of their key strategies for increasing the Collingwood's revenue, but the Center lost its liquor insurance in 2013, making hosting live performances more of a challenge.

 

Of the Collingwood's three wings, only one is occupied as of January 2014. The occupied wing is cold, but the unoccupied wings are barely warmer than the outside. The doors to those wings must remain sealed to trap heat in the occupied wing. The Collingwood is heated by three water boilers, but one is now out of commission, and heat bleeds out through the building's damaged roof. While the Collingwood has serious roof damage, Kurfis insists that the roof over the occupied wing is secure. To repair the entire roof would cost around a half million dollars, she said.

 

On the fourth of January 2014, in the middle of a sub-zero night, a water pipe burst in this storage room, flooding it with nearly six inches of water and sending water cascading down the Collingwood's steps. Residents managed to tie off the leak. According to one resident, when given the choice between saving the stored decorations or paintings, the residents' mantra was "Screw Christmas, save the art!" The Center's water pipes can now barely provide hot water for bathing.

 

This is a view of "the dome," the space between the ceiling of the Lois M. Nelson Theatre and the Collingwood's roof. Many of these support beams remain from the building's original construction in 1906. Structurally, the Collingwood remains quite sound.

 

This view, also from the dome, shows one of two tarps, erected to collect water leaking from the Collingwood's roof. The tarps have restricted water damage to the theater, but not curbed it entirely.

 

In this view from inside a Collingwood resident's room, one can clearly see a damaged and no longer insulated section of ceiling. to the left are electrical wires, leading from outlets in the hallway to the resident's room.

 

Nic Botek has lived at the Collingwood for over a year in this room. While it appears cozy, the large electrical heater directly behind his chair stands in violation of his landlord-tenant agreement, and poses a fire hazard. Many Collingwood residents use similar devices. The devices also pull more electricity from the Collingwood's electrical mainframe than it was designed to accommodate. Botek already has other living arrangements made in advance of his eviction. Other tenants sound less fortunate, but declined to comment. Kurfis promised to provide link-ups to several social services to ensure that Collingwood Residents have options upon their departure.

 

This bathroom, in the unoccupied wing of the Collingwood, is now used for storage. While some of its marble remains pristine, the damage on the wall and ceiling is clearly visible.

 

During extreme cold, such as that of early January, the Collingwood's radiators burst. The destroyed radiators cannot be repaired, and must be broken apart with a sledgehammer to be removed. After that, the hot water pipes must be capped to prevent water from flooding the Center. It is a time consuming process. The Collingwood employs W.A.P. Janitors, but only a single repairman, who works only twenty hours a week in the massive building. According to Kurfis, once the CAC's residents have departed, the top floor's radiators will be insulated, trapping that in the floors below and making those rooms at least safe enough to rent out as studio space, but still not safe to live in.

 

In this corridor, art produced by Collingwood residents hands on the walls outside of the Center's dance studios. One broken radiator stands away from the wall—it is no longer connected to the Center's infrastructure, but has yet to be removed or repaired.
 

Last week marked the end of an era in the Toledo arts community. On Tuesday, January 21, The Collingwood Arts Center announced the end of its artists in residency program. At a resident meeting, the CAC's board of directors gave the building's 28 residents a 30-day eviction notice. The board also maintained that the center would continue to offer rented studio space for interested artists. The announcement comes in the midst of one of the most bitter winters in recent memory, and has many people—including residents—raising ethical concerns toward the CAC. The center's administration, however, insist that the winter itself is part of the problem. The building's heating and plumbing systems sustained damage during the Polar Vortex event in early January and, according to the board, the building can no longer keep up its end of the landlord-tenant agreements that CAC residents signed. Those damages are just the latest items on a list of damages several pages long.

But what are these damages? Catastrophic changes, like the pipe that burst in early January, are rare. Most of the Collingwood's issues, according to residents and administration, stem from years of wear and tear with insufficient repair and maintenance work. According to Sarah Kurfis, Interim Executive Director of the Collingwood, as well as allegations by Collingwood residents, the Center has a long history of mismanagement. The Center only recently hired a full-time bookkeeper, and its financial record present a twisted paper trail. Where every dollar and cent of revenue has gone remains to be seen, but the cost of mismanagement is plainly visible.

The City Paper visited the CAC shortly after the eviction announcement, where we were given unfettered access into locked parts of the 108-year-old building. The following photographs document the living conditions of the Center's residents.

 

Sarah Kurfis, Interim Executive Director of the Collingwood, says she feels the weight of the eviction announcement, but maintains that it is the only course of action the Center can take at this time. She is the sixth Executive Director of the building in twelve years (The City Paper covered that massive turnover in a 2012 with previous Executive Director Mary Sawers). The CAC's residents have sometimes carried a reputation of ill-repute, but according to Kurfis the residents themselves did not factor into the eviction, although she did admit that on taking her position as Executive Director, she recommended to the board that the residency program be phased out over a period of several months. Kurfis admitted that even though the CAC's current residents collectively owe over $10 thousand in back rent, that the residency program is the Center's primary source of revenue. "We are taking a huge financial hit," she said.

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The Lois M. Nelson Theater has always been the most aesthetically pleasing room in the Collingwood. Built with the acoustics of opera in mind, it remains one of the most beautiful performance spaces in the greater Toledo area. Sadly, water damage from the Collingwood's damaged roof are eroding its ceiling. Kurfis, and Sawers before her, have expressed that revenue from the theater is one of their key strategies for increasing the Collingwood's revenue, but the Center lost its liquor insurance in 2013, making hosting live performances more of a challenge.

 

Of the Collingwood's three wings, only one is occupied as of January 2014. The occupied wing is cold, but the unoccupied wings are barely warmer than the outside. The doors to those wings must remain sealed to trap heat in the occupied wing. The Collingwood is heated by three water boilers, but one is now out of commission, and heat bleeds out through the building's damaged roof. While the Collingwood has serious roof damage, Kurfis insists that the roof over the occupied wing is secure. To repair the entire roof would cost around a half million dollars, she said.

 

On the fourth of January 2014, in the middle of a sub-zero night, a water pipe burst in this storage room, flooding it with nearly six inches of water and sending water cascading down the Collingwood's steps. Residents managed to tie off the leak. According to one resident, when given the choice between saving the stored decorations or paintings, the residents' mantra was "Screw Christmas, save the art!" The Center's water pipes can now barely provide hot water for bathing.

 

This is a view of "the dome," the space between the ceiling of the Lois M. Nelson Theatre and the Collingwood's roof. Many of these support beams remain from the building's original construction in 1906. Structurally, the Collingwood remains quite sound.

 

This view, also from the dome, shows one of two tarps, erected to collect water leaking from the Collingwood's roof. The tarps have restricted water damage to the theater, but not curbed it entirely.

 

In this view from inside a Collingwood resident's room, one can clearly see a damaged and no longer insulated section of ceiling. to the left are electrical wires, leading from outlets in the hallway to the resident's room.

 

Nic Botek has lived at the Collingwood for over a year in this room. While it appears cozy, the large electrical heater directly behind his chair stands in violation of his landlord-tenant agreement, and poses a fire hazard. Many Collingwood residents use similar devices. The devices also pull more electricity from the Collingwood's electrical mainframe than it was designed to accommodate. Botek already has other living arrangements made in advance of his eviction. Other tenants sound less fortunate, but declined to comment. Kurfis promised to provide link-ups to several social services to ensure that Collingwood Residents have options upon their departure.

 

This bathroom, in the unoccupied wing of the Collingwood, is now used for storage. While some of its marble remains pristine, the damage on the wall and ceiling is clearly visible.

 

During extreme cold, such as that of early January, the Collingwood's radiators burst. The destroyed radiators cannot be repaired, and must be broken apart with a sledgehammer to be removed. After that, the hot water pipes must be capped to prevent water from flooding the Center. It is a time consuming process. The Collingwood employs W.A.P. Janitors, but only a single repairman, who works only twenty hours a week in the massive building. According to Kurfis, once the CAC's residents have departed, the top floor's radiators will be insulated, trapping that in the floors below and making those rooms at least safe enough to rent out as studio space, but still not safe to live in.

 

In this corridor, art produced by Collingwood residents hands on the walls outside of the Center's dance studios. One broken radiator stands away from the wall—it is no longer connected to the Center's infrastructure, but has yet to be removed or repaired.
 

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