Njideka Akunyili, a Studio Museum's artist in residence, created a collage in homage to Romare Bearden. (Photo by Paul Smith)

Njideka Akunyili received a package from the Studio Museum in August, containing two sheets of 22 by 30 inch paper and one instruction: Create a collage in homage to Romare Bearden, Harlem’s iconic visual artist.

Akunyili accepted the invitation unhesitantly. As a graduate student at Yale, she had studied Bearden’s work, admiring how he conjured cohesive spaces through disparate images and colors. To prepare for the commission, she boarded a train to New Haven and spent a day scrutinizing Yale’s Bearden collection.

She returned to her cluttered studio on 125^th Street (as a museum artist in residence, she works above the galleries) knowing she wanted to adapt Bearden’s palate of saturated primary colors.  But two weeks before the deadline, her pages remained blank.

Akunyili, 28, finally drew two central figures, representing herself and her husband, Justin, dancing in an imaginary nightclub. She gathered family photographs from her wedding in Nigeria and searched the Internet for images by her favorite Malian photographer, Malick Sidibe, (Bearden often referred to fellow artists in his work).

She scanned the fragments and Xerox-transferred them onto the large page, cut the two figures out and moved them about like jigsaw pieces, submitting the work just before deadline.

"Efulefu: The Lost One", Njideka Akunyili's collage, currently exhibited at the Studio Museum as part of The Bearden Project. (Photo: the Studio Museum)

Now Akunyili’s “Efulefu: The Lost One” hangs on the Studio Museum wall, surrounded by The Bearden Project’s 43 other components. September marked the centennial of Romare Bearden’s birth and curator Lauren Haynes decided that a special tribute was in order for this member of her museum’s founding council. “Instead of putting up all the Beardens from our collection,” Haynes said, “we thought it would be interesting to engage artists we work with, though the idea of collage.”

The artists’ interpretations are various. Matriarch (the mother-daughter team of Maren and Ava Hassinger) constructed a tower from boxes, shells and feathers. Nadine Robinson produced an audio montage, with only its URL address on display. Kori Newkirk’s untitled instillation consists of tin cans spilling glitter onto the museum floor.

Stacy Lynn Waddell branded and singed her two sheets of paper and painted a tropical watercolor embellished with Austrian crystals. Xaviera Simmons photographed two side-by-side figures, their faces obscured by Nina Simone and Malcom X LP’s. On the opposite wall, Bearden’s 1964 work “Conjur Woman” watches over these tributes.

In fact, the project constitutes a ramshackle collage itself. Haynes and her team will keep adding works and rearrange existing exhibits until they reach the target of 100 pieces before the exhibition closes in March.

It’s just one of many centennial tributes to Bearden. The Postal Service commissioned four Bearden stamps. His works are on exhibit in galleries from Kansas City to Cambridge, Mass. But Harlem, fittingly, is the epicenter of the festivities.

Although he was born in North Carolina, Romare Bearden grew up in Harlem.  His mother’s West 131^st Street apartment, not far from the Studio Museum, became a salon attracting family friends like Duke Ellington and Fats Waller.

A social worker by day, Bearden spent evenings painting in a 125^th Street studio above the Apollo Theatre; fellow artist Jacob Lawrence worked on another floor. After serving in World War II, Bearden studied at the Sorbonne in Paris and met Georges Braque.

"Conjur Woman," a collage by Romare Bearden, currently on exhibit at the Studio Museum as part of the Bearden Project. (Art © Romare Bearden Foundation/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY**)

To Sherman Edmiston, owner of the Essie Green Galleries in Sugar Hill, Bearden was a companion. “Romie was phenomenal, truly a renaissance man,” he said, sitting in his gallery, eyes closed, smiling fondly. “He was a black historian that had very few equals.”

Bearden excelled at science, contemplated becoming a doctor and could even have played professional baseball, said his friend. “Today most people think being hip means knowing the slang, the music, the dance steps and how to dress,” he said. But in Bearden’s Harlem, “you had to know poetry, literature, history. You had to be well-read, because to be hip meant you had to know shit.”

Sherman Edmiston, owner of the Essie Green Galleries in Sugar Hill, was Bearden's friend. (Photo by Paul Smith)

Edmiston, a former engineer, founded the Park Plaza Gallery in Park Slope, Brooklyn, in 1976 with his late wife, Essie Green, to champion “black masterworks.” As aspiring collectors, they were unsure how to contact Bearden. ‘All we could think of was to look in the phone book,” said Edminston. “And there it was: Romare Bearden. Canal Street.”

They met and grew close. “He didn’t see us as art dealers and collectors, but as people he felt something for.” When Edmiston and Green bought their Convent Avenue brownstone, around the time of Bearden’s death, they opened the Essie Green Galleries in their basement, known colloquially as the Bearden Gallery for its frequent Bearden exhibitions.

Edmiston’s current show, “Bearden The Painter,” presents an unusual view: Bearden’s late watercolors. “People tend to pigeonhole Romie as a collagist, always talking about jazz,” said Edminston. “It’s so much more than that.”

Many of the paintings hanging on Essie Green’s purple walls are set on St. Martin, the Caribbean island where Bearden and his wife Nanette, a choreographer, spent part of each year. The effects of Bearden’s collages are evident in his final watercolors. “All the time he spent with collage, photo montage and oils sublimated into this later work, which had it all,” said Edmiston, whose favorite painting hangs opposite his desk. Gazing at “Coconut Grove,” with its foliage-rich saturated greens, is “like looking through a kaleidoscope.”

Bearden’s sparse final paintings, “Autumn 1” and “Autumn 2” are on exhibit at the Schomburg Center’s “The Soul of Blackness” exhibition. which presents a chronological view of his career. Beginning with his first collages, the circular layout encompasses theatrical posters, a textile and a commission for the Schomburg’s 50^th anniversary.

Bearden often worked in the library there, said Chris Moore, one of the show’s curators. “The founders and participants of the Schomburg lived through an era when black and African things were totally separated,” he said. “Academics and intellectuals fought against that. It became their life battle. Romare Bearden is an artist but he’s also a warrior, bringing to attention the talents and contributions of African people.”

The Schomburg regularly holds childrens’ workshops. “You can come here at five years of age and find something engaging,” Moore said, adding that young audiences “are as much in awe of his work as adults are.”

The Romare Bearden Foundation also focuses on children, supplying educational materials and lobbying for his inclusion in school curriculums for 8- to 12-year-olds.

The foundation, established in 1990 with offices on 125^th Street, houses Bearden’s personal library and extensive catalogues of his work. It organizes annual symposiums, oversees licensing and strives to raise Bearden’s profile – a challenging feat – says co-director Diedra Harris-Kelley.

“We do these retrospectives,” she said, “Everyone comes out and says it’s great but it’s not trickling down. It’s just simply not enough.” She hopes the centennial’s sustained spotlight will cement his status as an American master and encourage editors to include him in influential art compendiums. Bearden remains relatively unknown outside the States, something the Foundation also hopes to rectify.

Harris-Kelley, who is Bearden’s niece, is driven by fond memories of visiting her uncle’s Canal Street studio as a child. “He was always happy to see company,” she said, describing how he’d entertain friends in his loft space.

Like his collages, his creative process was somewhat fragmentary. “He’d be telling some story or other,” said Harris-Kelley. “Or showing off art. Or making spaghetti.”

Bearden’s Centennial in Harlem:

The Studio Museum

44 West 125th Street

“The Bearden Project”: multimedia collages by contemporary artists inspired by Bearden. Until March 11^th

http://thebeardenproject.studiomuseum.org/

The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture

515 Malcolm X Boulevard

“Romare Bearden: The Soul of Blackness / A Centennial Tribute”: paintings, collages, prints, posters and textiles spanning Bearden’s career. Until January 7^th.

http://www.nypl.org/locations/schomburg

Essie Green Galleries

419A Convent Avenue,

“Bearden The Painter”: watercolors from the artist’s late career. Continuing.

http://www.essiegreengalleries.com/

**Reproduction of this image, including downloading, is prohibited without written authorization from VAGA, 350 Fifth Avenue, Suite 2820, New York, NY  10118.  Tel: 212-736-6666; Fax: 212-736-6767; e-mail: info@vagarights.com; web:www.vagarights.com

The abandoned school's dilapidated courtyard. (Photo by Lucy Pawle)

A derelict former public school in East Harlem will be converted into affordable housing and studio facilities for artists and their families, says a national arts developer. Costing $52.6 million, the enormous building will be converted into 90 units and 10,000 square feet of community space.

Construction on P.S. 109 at 215 E. 99^th Street is scheduled to start early next year now that the Department of Housing Preservation and Development has approved, and will announce in the next few days, grants worth about $20 million for the project, according to Will Law, chief operating officer at Artspace, a nonprofit real estate developer of the arts.

Once slated for demolition, Artspace, in conjunction with El Barrio’s Operation Fightback, an East Harlem community development organization, now has the development rights to P.S. 109. The Department of Housing Preservation and Development was handed control of the site by the Department of Education, and is providing tax credits and subsidies for affordable housing.

Built in 1898, with a gothic, almost castle-like design, the imposing building has fallen into disrepair since the school’s closure in 1996. Five stories tall with drip moldings, green spires corner towers and steeply pitched roof, it stands in stark contrast to its surroundings: a dilapidated housing complex, basketball court and low-rise residential streets. “In the community it’s an iconic building, it’s a landmark,” says Law. Fenced off with signs saying, “Keep Out – Poison,” the overgrown shrubbery, graffiti and boarded up windows, make it an eyesore and health hazard.

“We saw the gorgeous building, so the opportunity to give it a new life is quite exciting,” says Carol Corletta, president of ArtPlace, a public and private investment agency that worked with the National Endowment for the Arts among others to raise $1 million for the project. Corletta says the whole neighborhood will benefit from the plans. “The chance to reinvest in the artists, the location, and in the community – it’s a slam-dunk in our eyes.”

City Council member Melissa Mark-Viverito, who has supported Artspace’s plans, is equally enthusiastic. “I’m very excited about it,” she says. “I’m very proud of it.”

Yet squabbling about the best use for the building has continued for years. Local activist Gwen Goodwin organized the Coalition to Save P.S. 109, which successfully prevented the building’s demolition in 1999. Goodwin wants to see a restored school there, saying, “We are at a severe shortage of space in every district, East Harlem especially.”

School overcrowding is a hot topic in the area, and to Hector Nazario, president of the District’s Community Education Council, the cause is simple. “We have an overcrowding in East Harlem simply because 109 was closed,” he says.

But Mark-Viverito says that this argument is moot because the Department of Education didn’t want the school anymore. “They handed it over to DHP, it was just too costly,” she says, arguing, “Housing is our biggest problem.”

Law says that given the housing problems in El Barrio, “we fill a void.” He explains that an employee from the Department of Housing Preservation and Development first introduced him to P.S. 109, and as early as 2005 Community Board 11 approved the project.

A lack of agreement about the building’s use was the reason it fell into disrepair initially, argue Mark-Viverito and Law.  Law says that although in recent years “there’s been total consensus on the Community Board,” he admits that in in the past, “it was mired in a lot of community dissension.”

The front entrance remains closed. (Photo by Lucy Pawle)

Daisy Matias, 52, who lives in the housing project opposite P.S. 109, remembers this well. “People kept coming and checking the building for years but nothing happened,” she says.

Matias is not particularly enthusiastic about the plans. “They could have opened it up as a school again,” she says wistfully. “The kids need it more.”

Ambivalence is rife among neighborhood residents. “It’s nice that it’s being used but we’d rather it was a school,” says Nilsa Diaz, 52.

Gentrification is the cornerstone of both sides’ argument. Over the last decade the area’s white population has increased by 55 percent, according to the 2010 census. Goodwin says most new residents will be paying rents that locals can’t afford. Describing the project as a “frivolous idea,” she argues current plans “doesn’t have a lot to do with residents of East Harlem.”

Diaz agrees, saying, “It’s for the rich, it’s not for the poor.”

But Law counters that Artspace is part of the solution, not problem. “Increasing gentrification is going on that is continuing to force artists out of Manhattan,” he says, and with apartments expected to rent for $550 to $1,100 a month, he argues that P.S. 109 will help alleviate the impact of rent increases. “We are staking out affordable housing,” he says.

Local artists are enthusiastic. “It sounds like a great idea; I loved it from the very beginning,” says Argentinean painter and Harlem resident Mariano Cinat, who declares he would jump at the chance to move into P.S. 109. “I see the need in the community for more art programs and for more people to get involved.”

But few of those affected, both locals and artists, were aware that the project could move ahead so soon. “I didn’t know,” says Matias. Diaz was unaware, too.

Five years ago Harlem sculptor Lina Puerta completed a survey about what kind of apartment she lived in and the size of her household, “but that’s all I’ve heard.” She adds, “I signed up to their mailing list but I haven’t received any newsletters or emails or updates.”

Law admits Artspace could improve its dialogue with the community. Once the go-ahead is officially given, he says, “then we will really start to liaise with the community.”

With the department’s approval of Artspace’s plans, tenants could move into the restored building in autumn 2013.

Law, who has worked on Artspace P.S. 109 for six years, says he is certain that when the project is completed, the benefits will be evident to most. “I believe it can be transformational,” he says.

Volunteer painters David Hernaiz Concepcion and Adrian Viajero Roman touch up Che Guevara's face on Dos Alas. (Photo by Jacqueline Guzman)

A landmark East Harlem artwork is getting a makeover after years of wear and tear. Local artists and supporters gather weekly at the Dos Alas mural, paintbrushes in hand, to revive this emblem of Latino history.

The restoration began in September, the start of an ongoing effort to preserve cultural symbols in El Barrio, and will continue every weekend until completed, probably later this month. Luisa’s Liberation Artists Making Action (LLAMA), a new collective of Latino artists, is leading the restoration, but unpredictable weather and hectic schedules have delayed its completion.

“Most of the artists work full-time so we rely on their availability,” said Marina Ortiz, a collective member and founder of East Harlem Preservation, via email.

Dos Alas, or “two wings,” at East 105th Street and Third Avenue has represented political activism in El Barrio for 12 years. Two groups of artists, poets and musicians– Ricanstruction Netwerks and Puerto Rico Collective– originally painted it to depict two Latino activists: Ernesto “Che” Guevara and Puerto Rican nationalist Don Pedro Albizu Campos.

But harsh weather and vandalism have taken their toll. Before the restoration, the bright colors of the men’s faces and a hybrid Cuban-Puerto Rican flag had washed out, along with the men’s quotes, in Spanish, about revolution. The two white stars flanking the image didn’t shine the way they used to and the brick wall beneath it, the side of a women’s clothing shop, had become rust-stained.

In addition to refurbishing its original features, Ortiz says, the group has begun to expand the mural, adding details like quotes from contemporary Latino activists. Every week, new and continuing volunteers lend a hand.

On a recent weekend, Carlito Rovira, one of the original Dos Alas artists now directing the repainting, pauses to talk to passersby about the mural’s message. Over the years, he has worked on several political murals.

“Art is an expression,” Rovira says, describing Dos Alas as a statement  “that calls for an end to the plight of the oppressed.” His love for art developed on the Lower East Side, where he grew up when it was a “haven for Barrio art.” He is now a decorative painter by trade; helping to restore murals breaks the monotony of painting houses.

Keeping new generations connected with their cultural identity can be a challenge,  Rovira acknowledges; he hopes the murals remind them of their ancestors’ movements against inequality.

Tato Torres, a musician who now lives in Puerto Rico, stops by to see the project’s progress. He had just graduated from City College when he helped paint local murals in the ‘90s. Seeing the renovation brings back memories.

“We weren’t taken seriously back then; we wanted to do things that had immediate effects,” he says. He remembers purposely painting the murals without permission from building owners. Most got painted over, sometimes within a day.

“This is the only one that lasted,” Torres says. “It’s great to see that what we did actually worked.”

Xen Medina, a freelance artist and one of the volunteer crew, comes prepared for the job with a black paint-stained apron over his jeans and t-shirt. He lives in Queens, but has been coming to El Barrio since the ’70s; he’s fought to put up more murals here, but has found it hard to compete with large corporations for wall space.

“They say they don’t want anything on their walls,” he says of building owners. “Then a month later, there’s a cigarette ad up.” He hopes the murals will say something defiant about issues like gentrification.

The Dos Alas restoration has drawn a lot of attention from neighbors. Older residents, who lived through Guevara’s and Campos’ activism, pull artists aside to talk about their ideologies.

“It’s thrilling to see people stop by and engage in conversations about the mural,” says Ortiz.

“The mural is important for the history of our people,” says resident Antonio Fonseca in his native Spanish. He moved to El Barrio in 1997 and says that whether or not someone agrees with the political message, “it’s still part of Hispanic culture.”

Many onlookers have had similar reactions– but not everyone. Robert Hall, 38, has lived in the area most of his life and passes the mural every day. He isn’t thrilled about the change.

“I am a person who likes originality,” Hall says. “When you try to redo something like that, it just isn’t the same.” Its worn-out look gave it character, he adds.

Each week, musicians and poets perform at the mural site to honor El Barrio activism while the volunteers paint. On Sunday, the performers included performances by Jesus Papoleto Melendez, local poet and author, and songwriter Not4Prophet.

The artists will next tackle a mural on 110^th Street and Park Avenue.

125th Street is “Franco’s Boulevard.” If you’ve seen the murals of Barack Obama or Martin Luther King Jr. on storefront gates there, chances are Franco Gaskin has painted them. Gaskin – who calls himself “Franco the Great” but points out that others have christened him “Franco the Magnificent” – has been painting gates for 30 years. “This is my contribution to Harlem,” he said.

A native of Panama, he’s been painting since childhood. At 3, Gaskin fell from a building in an accident that left him mute and introverted; using art to connect with others, he began speaking again, with difficulty, at 10. Now 83, Gaskin has been invited all over the world – Germany, Japan, Italy – to paint.

During the Christmas season, Gaskin paints winter scenes and other holiday-themed décor on storefronts across Harlem.

The society’s imposing building looms over the shops and bodegas of Washington Heights like a benevolent giant. Its iron gates and ornate facades speak of another era, and the names of famous Spaniards are etched into the limestone edging the courtyard. Founded by Archer Milton Huntington in 1904, the society curates the country’s largest collection of Hispanic art, sculpture, ceramics, rare books and manuscripts.

On a weekday afternoon, visitors to the museum come and go, but there’s hardly a crowd of the sort one might expect to see at the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the Museum of Modern Art.

“We’d like to change that,” says Margaret Connors-McQuade, assistant director and curator of decorative arts. “We hope that enthusiasm grows here in New York.”

The Hispanic Society faces another problem, however. The 106-year-old building that houses this priceless collection is gradually deteriorating.  It’s had a good run, says Connors-McQuade, but “we need to fix the roof so we don’t have water coming in, because of course water would damage the objects. So that’s a problem.”

Last month, staffer Andrea Ortuno made an impassioned plea for money at a Community Board 12 meeting, outlining the society’s plan. “The Hispanic Society of America has implemented a comprehensive, strategic 10-year master plan, for capital improvement of its facilities, to improve the integrity of the building and the preservation of its collections, improve public access, and increase our educational and outreach programming,” Ortuno said, reading a prepared statement.

She expects the renovations to attract more visitors. “We hope this increased exposure will change the image of the Hispanic Society,” she told the community board, “from one of New York’s greatest hidden treasures in Washington Heights, to just one of the great treasures of New York City.”

Although the Hispanic Society is a private trust, it hopes to receive a capital grant from the city, says Connors-McQuade, to help with the renovations, which could take 10 years.

“The local representatives in the area,” she says, “have been very enthusiastic and supportive of the work that we’re doing.”

The renovation would also include climate control, says Connors-McQuade. “You need to control the humidity and have a constant temperature and a constant humidity,” she says, “rather than the fluctuation we have in New York City … which is not good for art, particularly wooden panels, paper, anything that reacts or expands to that fluctuation in humidity.”

At the moment, pieces that might suffer weather damage have been put into storage, says Connors-McQuade. “But it would be nice to share our really fantastic world collection of Spanish drawings and prints, and photographs.”

The plan also includes making the collection more accessible to visitors with disabilities, says Connors-McQuade. “We’re not designed to bring in wheelchairs,” she says. “And it’s disappointing for us, because we have this fabulous collection, and it’s not available to everyone.”

Visitors to the Hispanic Society share her enthusiasm. Phyllis Gelter, on a visit with her senior center, sings its praises. “The Hispanic Society is extraordinary,” says Gelter. “The ceramics are absolutely beautiful and the paintings are wonderful. It’s a shame that more people don’t come to see it.”

From left, Walter Sorel, 12, Nandy Diego, 17, and Eugene Ryzman, 15, discuss Judaism and Catholicism during rehearsal for the musical “Sosúa: Dare to Dance Together.” (Photo by Medina Roshan)

Three teenagers – two Jewish boys and a Dominican Catholic girl – sat around a table yesterday to discuss what they knew about each other’s religions.

“Have you guys read the Torah?” Nandy Diego, 17, asked Walter Sorel, 12, and Eugene Ryzman, 15.

Their answer: sort of. “It’s really hard,” Walter explained. “You read backwards in a language you are not familiar with at all.”

The conversation was part of their rehearsal for a musical, “Sosúa: Dare to Dance Together,” a project of the YM/YWHA of Washington Heights and Inwood. Named for a Dominican town, the show tells how, in 1939, a group of Jewish refugees escaping Hitler accepted asylum from dictator Rafael Trujillo.

Victoria Neznansky, chief program officer at the YM/YWHA, saw the story as a way to bring together Dominican and Jewish youth, particularly in upper Manhattan. “There’s a lot of little stories in the Holocaust,” Neznansky said, many little-known.

Neznasnky enlisted the help of Elizabeth Swados, Tony-nominated composer, writer and director, to direct the first performance last year. Swados wrote the music for this year’s production and the director is Matthew Gehring.*

With a cast of 20, the musical will travel across the city. “I think it could be a model for the world,” Neznansky said.

As for the teens in the shows, “They’re tremendously affected,” she said.

Jordan Hoepelman, 14, a Washington Heights resident of both Jewish and Dominican background, recalled last year performing for an audience of Holocaust survivors. Some shared their tales of escape to the Dominican Republic, including one person who, as an infant, traveled hidden in a suitcase. “A lot of people were emotional,” Jordan said.

Washington Heights resident Kaitlin Abreu, 16, also a returning cast member, said she felt touched and inspired after talking with the Holocaust survivors. “We’re representing a story that they went through,” Abreu said. “There were actually women that came up to me and cried.”

The project has also given participants a chance to learn more about their respective heritages and find common ground.

During discussions at rehearsal, Diego, Walter and Eugene discussed the way peers tease them.

“There’s this kid that calls me Jew-gene,” Eugene said. “After a while, it gets really offensive.”

Diego agreed.

This year’s “Sosúa” performances are March 6 at the Museum of Jewish Heritage; April 6 at Queens College; and May 1 at the JCC in Manhattan. Neznansky will announce additional performances, including some uptown, she said.

*The original story erroneously reported that Ms. Swados would direct again this year. Matthew Gehring is the director.

Assemblywomen Barbara Clark and Earlene Hooper listen to leaders of arts organizations at last week's hearing. (Photo by Ksenia Galouchko)

Many uptown arts organizations will scale back their services and cut staff this year after Gov. David Paterson vetoed 6,700 line items in the state budget, removing $190 million in state grants from community organizations.

Representatives of about 100 New York nonprofit organizations gathered at City Hall last week, protesting on the steps while inside, state legislators listened to their laments.

“We understand the economic difficulties that have cut the state budget,” Voza Rivers, chairman of the Harlem Arts Alliance, said at the hearing. “But we shouldn’t have to come here to convince our governor that arts funding is important.”

He added: “We need to landmark our cultural institutions the same way we landmark buildings. As one of the oldest black non-profits, if we don’t get funding, we’ll soon become a dinosaur and disappear.”

In New York, where 79 percent of nonprofits depend on two or more state government grants, reduced state support presents a significant burden for arts groups. Until this year, organizations with state grants operated on a reimbursement system. Now arts associations that expected grants last year are struggling, Melody Capote of the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute said in a subsequent interview, because money they already spent will not be reimbursed .

“We have to spend our money first for the state to reimburse us, that’s the biggest hole we’re in,” said Capote. “We spent money but haven’t been reimbursed.”

Last year, the state awarded the institute a $400,000 grant. The organization took out a bank loan, expecting to be reimbursed. “Usually, we find out about the state financial commitments in July, August,” Capote said. “It’s already October and we have no idea, because legislators can’t approve funding.”

With its grant now frozen, “We have to pay interest on what was supposed to be free money,” she said.

Last year, 48 percent of New York nonprofits experienced late grant or contract payments from the government, compared with 41 percent nationwide, according to the Urban Institute’s National Study of Nonprofit-Government Contracting. In response to budget cuts, almost half of New York’s human service nonprofits fired employees and reduced staff salaries, the study shows.

“State support this year is problematic,” said Michael Unthank, executive director of Harlem Arts Alliance, whose organization lost $15,000 in grants. “Last year funding was promised, but never processed. This year it won’t even be allocated.”

At the hearing, Brenda M. Greene, executive director of the Center for Black Literature at the City University of New York, said the center’s financing was cut in half. “The first area that’s cut is the arts,” said Greene, whose organization offers poetry and fiction writing classes for community youth. “Art improves the performance of young people, makes them stay in school.

“At the moment the center employs only one full-time person, and we are forced to mainly depend on volunteers and part-timers, because we can’t guarantee full-time employment,” said Greene.

Although most upper Manhattan arts organizations receive private donations in addition, some — like the African Diaspora Institute that depends on state support for 80 percent of its budget — won’t be able to continue operation without state money.

“The effect of budget cuts is devastating,” said Capote. “Organizations have been forced to close their doors, cut their services, their staff. There’s little we can do if nothing changes.”

Arts organizations have also seen private contributions slide.  “Public funding contributes to public confidence in an organization,” said Unthank, whose organization relies on such private donors as JP Morgan Chase and the Upper Manhattan Empowerment Zone. “So with the decrease of state support, some private donors may be less willing to give large sums of money to older, bigger Harlem organizations.”

The well-known Harlem music school Opus 118 was forced to significantly cut enrollment and curriculum this fall, for instance, because major donors withdrew their support.

Capote is skeptical that last week’s hearing will bring results, however. “It’s not like they decided to meet with us, they were responding to us,” she said of the legislators who attended. “We tried to get some fire under them, but walking out of that meeting I didn’t have the feeling that any decisions were made.”

Nest week’s election of  a new governor will bring little relief, arts leaders say. “The scary thing is that the governor is leaving, so he has to make decisions quickly, leave us with at least some money,” said Capote. “It’s already official that Cuomo wants to make additional 20 percent cuts across all state agencies.”

Responding to the arts organizations’ call for restored budgets, Assemblywoman Barbara M. Clark said at the hearing, “Not-for-profit associations do a tremendous job out there. But you have to do a better job at talking about what you do, so people don’t feel like we are just giving away money.”

Read additional stories on the Struggling Arts in the special report.

A print by Miguel Luciano confronts the identity issues experienced by Dominicans in New York. (Photo by Dewi Cooke)

They live in neighborhoods across New York — from the Bronx and Queens to Westchester and throughout Manhattan. But it’s the northern tip of this island that a group of 12 Dominican-American artists have chosen as the headquarters for their collective, Dominican York Projeycto Grafica.

“Washington Heights is the heart of it,” says collective member Pepe Coronado. “Even though there’s more Dominicans in the Bronx, the concentration is Washington Heights and it’s good to understand that.”

For its first group show this week, the collective took over a new exhibition space within the Dominican Studies Institute at the City College of New York, Harlem. The collection of 12 graphic prints shown in “Manifestaciones” explores the hybrid cultural identities that Dominicans living in New York have had to form, Coronado says.

“We’re studying our own identity – not that we don’t know who we are, but we are coming to a new land, a new culture and we are merging,” he explains. “This is a work about Dominican-Americans, about symbolism, about issues, about beliefs of us here now.”

The group says it’s the first New York collective devoted to promoting and exhibiting the work of Dominican artists. Similarly, the exhibition space (in a multipurpose room at the Dominican Studies Institute’s library) will be the first dedicated to showing art by and about those of Dominican descent.

Dominican artists in the United States came of age “without a dedicated arts institution of their own,” says an accompanying essay by E. Carmen Ramos, curator of Latino art at the Smithsonian. “By the 1990s, they would also mature in a post-multicultural artistic scene less devoted to culturally specific exhibitions.”

Last week’s opening was symbolic for the city’s Dominican community says Institute director Ramona Hernandez.

“The Dominican people are full of art,” she says. “What we have here is the manifestation of this group of people that captures … very well who we are and what we do. This is the only space within a university setting, the only space that is so highly equipped to do this, so the significance is enormous. It is like we are moving forward.”

The exhibition includes a print by Miguel Luciano, featuring a two-toned “passport,” a nod to the complex issues around skin color for some Dominicans. Other exhibitors, such as Moses Ros-Suarez, chose more literal representations of the two worlds Dominicans in America inhabit, his screen-printed characters trapped on a bridge between two lands.

The collective, rooted firmly uptown, has a studio space above a bar in Inwood and some members are also participating in a Northern Manhattan Arts Alliance initiative to fill vacant Washington Heights storefronts with art.

Coronado says the group – which formed in January – deliberately chose to use the Dominican York label, a pejorative slapped on those Dominicans who returned home in the 1980s showing off their newfound American wealth.

“We’re tackling that issue now because Dominican York doesn’t mean something bad,” he says.

Manifestaciones runs until December 21.

Opus 118's founder Roberta Guaspari at the school on 125th Street and Park Avenue. (Photo by Ksenia Galouchko)

This fall the hallways of Opus 118, Harlem’s most famous music school, remain quieter than usual. Located on the 7^th floor of an office building at 125^th Street and Park Avenue, the school’s three studios and performance room no longer fill with 250 students during its after-school program.

Instead of teaching its usual total of 700 students, Opus 118 enrolled only about 75 in its after-school program, with reduced scholarships compared to past years, and 200 in the in-school program when it opened earlier this month.

The school needs $1 million—its annual budget— to resume operating at full capacity, says administrative principal Karen Geer.

“I don’t think right now we have the funds to continue past winter,” says co-founder and creative director Roberta Guaspari.

Dependent on donations, Opus has seen its budget shrink over the past two years.  The recession has taken a toll: board chairman Nathaniel Sutton say that donors have scaled back contributions and one foundation, formerly a significant supporter, has dissolved.

But internal conflict has also played a role, including the departure of influential board members who’d served for over 10 years, says a person active in the school’s founding.

The board members who resigned included major donors and people linked to them, like Dorothea von Haeften, the wife of prominent violinist Arnold Steinhardt. The couple’s friendships with investor Walter Scheuer and internationally-known violinist Isaac Stern, helped raise Opus’s initial funding and drew media attention.

The new board of trustees, according to this source, has been less effective at fundraising. Shortfalls led to the school’s abrupt closure last April; it usually runs through May.

“I handed the school over to the executive director Alexander Small with enough money in the bank,” Van Haeften says. She charges that the new board hasn’t maintained a relationship with the school’s donors. “When I left, the new board members didn’t get in touch with the donors; not enough personal effort was made,” says Van Haeften. “We had many donors among board members and they weren’t contacted, as they should’ve been.”

Guaspari remembers the days when budget shortfalls could be resolved with one donation. “Dorothea and I would go over to Wally’s,” she said, referring to Scheuer. “And he would just give us $300,000.”

Sutton says the small staff and loss of a development director more than six months ago has prevented fundraising from being “where we want it to be.” He adds that Opus cannot now afford to hire a development professional but that remains a high priority.

Opus’ financial and media supporters include Congressman Charles Rangel, actress Meryl Streep, who put Opus 118 on the map by playing Guaspari in the film “Music of the Heart,” and well-known violinists Mark O’Connor and Diane Monroe. The school has also received grants from the Department of Cultural Affairs, National Endowment of the Arts, New York State Council for the Arts, JP Morgan Chase, New York Community Trust, says Sutton via e-mail.

But the most effective fundraising strategy, Geer says, has been to invite charities, such as members of the Cruise Industry Charitable Foundation, to school concerts.

She is optimistic. “We are hoping for a steady cash flow,” Geer says. “Certain grants are going to be coming in over the course of the year, so every month we’ll be able to reinstate more kids and programs.” Not only does the school intend to return to full after-school enrollment in January, but to reinstate specialized private programs, like choir and guitar lessons.

But the school’s co-founders, Guaspari and Ellen Weiss, remain troubled by the financial situation. “I hope we can get someone who can get us back on our feet again,” Guaspari says. Weiss called the school’s situation “perilous.”

Over the summer, Opus alumnae and parents formed an alumnae and parent board to help the board fundraise.

“We are more hopeful because parents and alumnae have become actively involved,” Weiss says. “Alumnae have a fierce loyalty to Roberta, so when she reached out to them when the board asked her to, they started connecting with each other and working with the current head of the board Nat Sutton.”

But parent board member Stacey Willoughby cautioned, “There isn’t a solid fundraising program in place; the issues remain. Funding can become an issue once again soon,” she says. “We need a specially designated person who’ll make a fundraising plan.”

For Guaspari, who continues to head the school’s curriculum, financial problems aren’t new. In 1991, when public schools slashed Guaspari’s violin program, she managed to raise money, with support from parents and students, with a Carnegie Hall concert. Guaspari used the concert’s $1 million profit to make her music program more independent, forming the current separate center in 2002, says Geer.

Opus 118 currently hosts in-school music programs at three public elementary schools: Central Park East 1, Central Park East 2 and River East. The in-school classes started on schedule in mid-September and are taught by Guaspari, who is paid by the schools.

But there were significant differences this year. In addition to the in-school program, Opus 118’s after-school music program offers three performance groups according to children’s skill levels: preparatory, junior ensemble and advanced performance group.

To enter the performance group, students must first take small-group private lessons from Opus teachers, which require a fee. Until this year fees for the students in the lower two performance groups were cut in half, and waived entirely for advanced students. Students in other groups who needed financial support also received full scholarships.

But this year, Guaspari says, Opus can’t take beginners who can’t pay for private lessons, and only about 10 after-school students are fully subsidized by the school.  Sutton says that students who need financial aid will get scheduled depending on how many slots are open at the time.

The advanced performance group was the only after-school group to resume full classes this September, rehearsing twice a week. The other two groups started rehearsing a month later, with rehearsals cut from twice to once a week.

Weiss says Opus always gave scholarships to whoever needed them. “Opus is not about being selective, it’s about giving everyone a chance. Sadly, now they have to ask parents to pay for the after-school programs.”

Four violin teachers left Opus for other jobs after the school closed in April, and one new teacher got hired, says Guaspari. Nelson Ojeda, an Opus piano teacher for three years, says the school closed so abruptly he had to continue private lessons for Opus kids outside of school, so they could finish the semester.

“It’s a sign that we need stable funding,” says Ojeda, who also works at the Harbor Conservatory for the Performing Arts. “We can’t go into the semester without knowing whether we’ll be able to continue.”

The advanced group, the school’s key fundraisers, Geer says, perform 10 public concerts each year. Over the years its young musicians have played at Carnegie Hall and at the Children’s Inaugural Ball in Washington DC.

When the school closed in April, the performance group concerts continued as part of fundraising, says Loi Kail, whose son plays in the group. The children will play in honor of the jazz lounge Louis 649 on Oct 28, with proceeds from the $160 tickets going to Opus.

Gold Star owner Manga Mwazi with a new art and sound installation. (Photo by Marina Kolobova)

At the Gold Star Laundromat in Washington Heights, the voice of Grace Jones is likely to drown out the rumble of washing machines. The West 155^th Street business recently unveiled a noisy art installation- an interactive tower of 1980s music devices created by the Laundromat Project. As the Project moves its headquarters from the East Village to Harlem this month, upper Manhattan could see more artworks in unlikely places.

The Laundromat Project was conceived in 1999 to move art “out of its gilded frame and into everyday places,” says founder Risë Wilson. She chose the laundromat as a place to exhibit because people have time to kill as they wait for their spins to finish. “This is a great way to use a place that is usually dullsville,” says one participant in a Laundromat Project workshop, Monica Williamson.

The Project’s new home at Work Space Harlem, 2340 Fifth Ave., will provide both a headquarters for the organization and space for classes, says Project program manager Petrushka Bazin.

Harlem’s gentrification attracted this Manhattan arts non-profit, which aims to preserve Harlem’s cultural legacy of grassroots African-American art. “Harlem is a symbol of economic empowerment and cultural autonomy,” says founder Wilson, who has a Master’s degree in African-American Studies. ”If this disappears because of a seismic shift in population it would be a tragic loss.”

Bazin hopes to extend the Project’s network of upper Manhattan laundromats. Bazin feels “especially invested” in the area, she says, because she has lived there for six years.

Artist Bayeté Ross Smith, also an uptown resident, created the “Boombox as Community Music” installation at the Gold Star by sitting outside throughout the summer, playing and collecting music. Neighbors could submit their favorites on tape or digitally. Smith offered digital tutorials to passersby, teaching them computer and radio skills while trying to engage local teens in music and art production. “They hang out, start a party outside the laundromat,” says Smith.

The finished interactive artwork spins a soundtrack created by locals, a mash-up of Latin and Arabic music, hip-hop and more. “He mixes this genre with that genre to make our genre,” says Gold Star Laundromat owner Manga Mwazi.

Davey Czyzyk, a Gold Star regular, says he enjoys the tracks from the installation while waiting for his washing and has met the artist on several occasions. “The kids talk with the artist, argue about music they like outside,” Czyzyk says.

For two uptown business owners, reaching the younger generation lies at the heart of the gentrification debate. Prince E. Hunt, who has lent space at his West 116^th Street laundromat for three years, says he’s concerned about his neighborhood’s cultural future and wants to introduce children to “the world of art.”

Mwazi says residents could not see art cheaply and locally. “I’ve been to every museum. Some kids will never get the chance to do that,” she says. “If you can’t go see art, I will bring it to you.”