The Tris McCall Report
This interview with Kathryn Klanderman ran in Chilltown #2. For those of you who didn't get Chilltown #2, I'm posting it here in its entirety.
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Kathryn Klanderman, outgoing president, looks back at three tumultuous years at the helm of ProArts.
Kathryn Klanderman doesn't look the part of the Jersey City political leader. Even during public meetings, where she invariably speaks on behalf of arts issues, her manner of address is always quiet and courteous, and characterized by an un-Hudson County-like brevity. Generally, Klanderman takes the podium, introduces a few crucial points, and sits down. She never poses for the cameras or plays directly to the press -- instead, she proceeds carefully and cautiously, with poise, focus, and a scope deliberately limited to the questions under consideration.
Viewed from a certain angle, Klanderman's tenure as ProArts president was a remarkable political success. During her stewardship, two major pieces of legislation strongly advocated by ProArts -- the Landmarking of the Warehouse District, and the Powerhouse Arts District ordinance -- were passed by the City Council. ProArts had been pushing both acts for many years without satisfaction; now, both are law. Typically self-effacing, Klanderman is quick to give credit to everybody but herself for their passage. But community leaders involved in the efforts to reshape the old WALDO district into an arts and entertainment center say that Klanderman's soft, steadfast, and reasoned advocacy was indispensable.
Meanwhile, during Klanderman's presidency, the annual Open Studio Tour continued its explosive growth. She's managed to raise the profile of the event and its sponsoring organization and swell the ranks of ProArts members and participants. Most remarkably, the local arts community has, over the past three years, achieved a level of social consciousness that impresses local governmental figures and outsiders alike. The arts lobby in Jersey City is now a very real force -- one that packed Council Chambers many times during 2004 -- and one with which local civic leaders will have to continue to contend.
Yet despite Kathryn Klanderman's considerable organizational skills, and despite the increasing power of ProArts and other grassroots advocacy groups, arts activists were unable to save the tenants at 111 First Street from eviction this winter. The dissolution of the Arts Center raises enormous questions about the long-term viability of the PAD. Can the district be re-seeded with working artists? Can the Jersey City Studio Tour continue to flourish now that the studios in its flagship building are empty? We sat down with Kathryn Klanderman at Ground for a frank conversation about where Jersey City has been -- and where we're going.
TM: With the future of the PAD in such flux, this seems like a pivotal moment in the development of the arts in Jersey City. Why step down now?
KK: Remember, I am an artist first. At this point, I need to spend more time working on my art. Being president of ProArts is very involving, and since I really felt responsible for the organization, the day-to-day issues that come up got my full attention. If I wasn't involved in a controversy, I was lying awake at home, thinking about one.
ProArts has tremendous potential to grow and expand. New artists move to Jersey City every day. The President's role is time-consuming, and I've reached a point where I feel like I can't wear both hats. I need to get back in my studio.
TM: But you're going to stay involved in the organization.
KK: Oh, definitely. I'm going to remain on the Board of ProArts. And I intend to stay very involved in local development issues. I'm not going anywhere.
TM: Let's start at the beginning. Why did you move to Jersey City? Why did this seem to you like a viable place to start a career in the fine arts?
KK: In the early nineties, I was a recent art school graduate looking for space to live and work. I'd come to Jersey City a few times, looking for an apartment. It was too bad I didn't find something, actually, because property was a whole lot cheaper then. But I ended up settling in Brooklyn, and later in Baltimore. It wasn't until 1998 that I came back to Jersey City. I took a cheap sublet in the Morgan Loft Building, and set to work.
Remember that the one thing that visual artists are always looking for is work space. We need large studios in order to create work and make a living. Square footage is essential for us. It's why we're drawn to disused warehouse spaces.
TM: Did you ever have a studio at 111?
KK: No, I never did. When I first arrived here, I didn't know anyone. I went door to door to neighborhood businesses, asking if anybody had an apartment for rent. I remember somebody pointing to 111, and telling me that you could get cheap loftspace there. But I ended taking a big railroad apartment instead.
TM: When did you join ProArts?
KK: Right around 1999. I met [photographer and City Planning Board member] Leon Yost, and he introduced me to ProArts co-founder Charles Kessler. Charles was very kind to me, and gave me so much information about the arts in Jersey City. They were just starting the 110 Live/Work Project then.
TM: Were you involved in that effort to restore and revitalize 110 First Street?
KK: I wasn't involved firsthand in the planning, but I did apply for space there, and I was disappointed that the funding for the project fell through. If it had happened, I think it would have changed fate. Having another live/work space right across the street from 111 would have made the area feel more like a District, and it would have established a precedent for the neighborhood. Now, of course, 110 is gone, which is just very sad. The plans for the building were really terrific.
TM: Do you know why the financing fell through?
KK: I don't know the details. City officials changed their mind about the role the City would be able to play in the project. It was a terrific shame, since the units would have genuinely been affordable.
TM: ProArts is a pretty big organization. If you joined in '99, that means you became president very quickly. How did that happen?
KK: Our membership is about 100 artists. It sometimes seems like we're larger than we are, because we do serve the greater artist community of Jersey City. During the 2004 Studio Tour, we had over 350 exhibitors -- those artists weren't all Pro Arts members, though they could join the organization if they chose to.
One of the reasons I joined ProArts was because I wanted to meet other artists, and I wanted to be in touch with artists in the community. I think I wasn't alone there: people to whom this organization calls are those who've chosen to become part of an active body of artists who speak out on behalf of the arts.
I got involved in curating exhibitions at Grace Church, which led to my work on the Cathedral Arts Festival. In the process, I met a lot of artists, and I think I became very involved very fast. It wasn't anything I sought out, but it turned out to be something I enjoyed doing: going out there, being proactive, seeing what was best for local artists.
One of the great things about Jersey City arts is that if you want to get deeply involved in it, it's pretty easy to do it. There is no magic door you need to go through. The trip to the center of the action isn't a long one. It's completely unlike Manhattan in that way: it's not about who you know, it's much more about showing up. The dues for ProArts are $15, which is hardly prohibitive. We're all working as volunteers.
TM: Do you think that the support of ProArts was pivotal in making the PAD happen?
KK: I'd like to think we contributed. But I would never say we stood alone. The 111 artists were also pivotal -- they were there first, and the Tenants Association was always active in planning the District as well. But it's important to say that this isn't just something that the arts community is interested in. Historic preservationists, the Downtown neighborhood associations, and plenty of public servants got involved in the initiative, too. Their support was, in some ways, even more legitimating than ours was - I mean, it's a no-brainer that ProArts would be interested in having an arts district.
TM: But ProArts did have a pretty big say in shaping the ordinance.
KK: The city planning division was really excellent in soliciting our feedback. They were very good about incorporating our ideas about what artists wanted from a District, what we might be interested in, what the criteria were. We were in almost constant contact with [city planner] Bob Cotter. I think the planners understand what immense benefits the District will have for Jersey City, socially, culturally, and economically. We can create a sense of place here, and really make our downtown a Destination.
TM: When ProArts threw its weight behind the landmarking of the warehouse district, some wondered what an arts activist group was doing fighting over a non-arts issue.
KK: But the warehouse district is in the arts district! Any legislation that affects the warehouse district affects the PAD, too.
I don't think it's right at all to call it a non-arts issue. The fine arts is many things -- it's not just about paintings on walls. We appreciate the beauty of these buildings. They're big, unique spaces, and their preservation is essential if the District is going to become a destination. Without the historic structures, you don't have the tone, the feel, the soul, the living history. Those are crucial components in the establishment of a place.
Our cultural history is a part of who we are. As artists, we're sensitive to that. We respect that.
TM: Do you think that the move to landmark the district encouraged Lloyd Goldman to try to beat the clock by dismantling 110 First Street before the city could assure its preservation?
KK: No, that's getting the chronology backward. The Jersey City Master Plan had recommended the landmarking of the Warehouse District for years. This was not a new concept, and was under discussion. One of the things that triggered the final landmarking initiative is that that New Gold submitted a plan for the redevelopment of 110 First that included the demolition of the historic building. Other buildings seemed threatened. Clearly, there needed to be a legislative response if the City and community at large was serious about landmarking the District.
TM: Now that the landmarking and the PAD have been approved, do you think that the role of ProArts changes? Both ordinances will be challenged in court by District property owners. Do you think that the organization is, to use a non-arts metaphor, going to be switching from offense to defense?
KK: We don't really need to switch modes, we just need to be vigilant and aware of situations that come up. Now that the ordinances have passed, they need to be enforced, and protected, and the plan has to be carried out. We want to support the municipal government in interpreting its own legislation. That's not always easy in a city that has had three administrations in less than a year.
TM: Do you feel that the new administration is cooperating?
KK: I am definitely disappointed that New Gold was issued permits for demolition at 111 First Street. Granted that, even if it's an historic building, it may need renovation work, but consider what happened at 110 - first permits were issued, and then the historic building was quickly reduced to a pile of bricks. I am disappointed that the administration has not been more vocal about a plan for remediation. I think that's very shocking, really.
I get the sense that they're cautious. I understand that the PAD may not be a priority for Mayor Healy, but he is not new to these issues. He is the mayor, and he did vote "yea" on these ordinances while he served on the City Council. Now I believe he should back up what he voted for, or state clear reasons why he won't.
TM: Do you have any hope left for 111 First Street? Or is its demolition inevitable?
KK: We're not going to stop fighting for its restoration and its active inclusion in the Arts District. No one is intending to walk away from this issue.
TM: But can the PAD work now that the artists have been forced out of the District?
KK: Even with the tenants out of the building, I believe the community will still support the idea of Arts First. It might take a few years, but we can hope that at some point Arts First or its like could be established in the district.
But, yes, of course this really hurts the district. We've just lost a community that has been working together for years to realize a progressive vision for the Downtown. But I don't think that means we give up and crawl under a rock. We have to fight harder.
TM: Do you think the Studio Tour can continue to grow without 111 First Street as its center of gravity?
KK: I think it's going to be different. The tour may evolve into something more like an Art Walk. It may grow in a different way -- it might grow geographically. In any case, it's a positive event, and it's an important event, so whatever shape it takes, it's going to be welcomed by the arts community.
I acknowledge that it is going to have to change a great deal. Without 111, much of the intimacy of the Tour may be gone. What is poignant here is that unlike versions in some other cities, our arts Tour has always been an Open Studio day. Working visual artists opened their spaces, so you could walk in and see their studios and the actual, material conditions of their labor. That was a unique experience, and something totally different from a gallery walk.
TM: If you could have the three years back, would you do anything differently?
KK: I honestly don't think so. I just wish that the Arts District had gotten a little traction ten years ago when it was first proposed. If we had, I think we'd be looking at a very different situation today.
But this is a very exciting time to be in Jersey City, and I am pleased that we could be part of it. There is a synergy in the arts community that just keeps growing. There are new venues, new possibilities. My husband and I just bought a house in Journal Square. We're here, and we want to stay here.
TM: Other former ProArts presidents have continued to be involved in Jersey City politics. What's your next step?
KK: I've got no political ambitions, but I will always be an involved community member. I'll be on the ProArts board, and I'm going to stay active in the PAD, as long as it is still viable.
TM: So no plans for political office?
KK: Nope. I'm a career artist. That'll always be number one for me.
I came into last night's City Council meeting instinctively opposing the proposed tax abatement at Newport, but also feeling like I didn't understand enough about municipal finance to have a genuine opinion worth holding. When I left City Hall five long hours later, I still didn't feel like I understood much about municipal finance -- but I did feel like the abatement issue was substantially clarified. Many of those opposed to the Shore Club abatement made cogent, passionate arguments against it. Ultimately, though, all the persuasion in the world couldn't dispel the City's need for quick cash. Downtown abatement opponents, including Councilman Maldonado, projected that the Shore Club property would develop and provide a municipal ratable without the abatement; supporters, including Harvey Smith and Bill Gaughan, didn't feel that the city could afford to take the chance that it wouldn't. After the dust had cleared, the fiscal conservatives outweighed and outvoted those who wanted to throw the dice.
I am still strongly inclined to agree with the gamblers here: I believe that we don't need to incentivize waterfront development. But that's just the view from this desk. I can't say for certain that LeFrak is dissembling when its reps suggest that a retraction of the abatement would send the Shore Club back to the drawing board. And since I'm not privy to the town's books, I can't tell you whether or not this payment in lieu of taxes is vital to the municipal bottom line. To some degree, it's all about whose economic projections you want to believe -- Mia Scanga insists that abatements increase the tax burden on middle-class homeowners, while Peter Brennan is equally insistent that PILOT programs hold the rate of property taxes stable. Steve Lipski suggested that revaluation doesn't automatically mean higher taxes. These guys aren't budging from their positions, so it's on us to riddle out the long-term effects of this policy tool. I'll keep trying.
In other action, New Gold made their strategy for assaulting the P.A.D. manifest last night: they're going to call it unconstitutional and discriminatory zoning. I'd expect this to play pretty well among the local philistines who like to bash artists as exclusive and snooty, but I have to believe that any decent judge is going to see through this tactic like cellophane. It was extremely gratifying to see the council unanimously rebuke New Gold -- but more on that when I get to Junior Maldonado.
On to the scorecard:
The young Councilwoman sidestepped the issue of whether or not the abatement was necessary by talking about financing schools. I wasn't sure what her point was, though -- was she really implying that Jersey City wouldn't be able to afford school costs without the payment in lieu of taxes? Could we really be in such bad shape that we need to allow LeFrak to construct luxury towers in order to be able to educate our kids? She echoed Peter Brennan's contention that abatements suppress the tax rate. Beyond that, Curran spoke very little, again often deferring to Mary Donnelly off mic. She does appear to be paying very close attention to the speakers, but I noticed that she was having a difficult time keeping a straight face during some of the more theatrical moments of Mia Scanga's twenty-five minute anti-abatement tirade. Hey, she's thirty-two years old; she hasn't completely suppressed the impulse to giggle in class. C
An uncharacteristically harsh Donnelly voted no on the Shore Club abatement on provincial grounds. She has, she said, been trying to lure developers to the West Side with tax deals; they haven't come, so now it's time for the Waterfront to take care of itself. Understandable, but a little cold and petty, maybe? She was more herself during the P.A.D. debate, addressing the artists who've been displaced from 111 First Street. She applauds them, she doesn't want to lose them, she hopes they stay in Jersey City. Me, too. B-
Mr. Abatement arrived at the big abatement meeting more than an hour late. The woman sitting to my right informed me that he and Gaughan (also late, but he got there quicker than Lipski) were at a party in the Heights to thank Mayor Healy for opposing Stop & Shop. Priorities. When pressed on abatements by a speaker, he acknowledged that PILOT advocates have done a crappy job explaining the issue to the public. That did not, however, stop him from doing a crappy job of explaining the issue to the public. Lipski always seems to be winding up to make a definitive statement -- but then the statement never comes, and you're left with the wind-up, struggling to complete his arguments for him. He's fond of quoting percentages and dollar amounts, but it's never clear what the numbers correspond to, or why they substantiate his claim that a tax incentive is still necessary for waterfront development. The Ward C Councilman fought a battle of dueling tax statements with Yvonne Balcer, disputing her numbers and calling Bill O'Dea's assessment incorrect; in any case, the dispute was inscrutable to everybody but Lipski and Balcer. Midway through the meeting, he indulged in some mugging and gratuitous boosterism for the benefit of Ward C crowdmembers in support of the Shore Club. It was a long evening, and he might have needed to blow off a little steam -- but he looked ridiculous, and it felt like another example of Lipski undercutting his own effectiveness with clumsy posturing. C+
The oldest member of the Council always looks like he'd rather be chilling on a Caribbean Island. But when it's his turn to speak, he's always succinct, blunt, direct. The Shore Club abatement, he told us, means 1.8-something (he provided the exact figure) dollars for Jersey City, and 300 local construction hirings. He cannot afford to debate whether the project would go forward or not without the abatement; he will not jeopardize the money or the jobs. Agree or disagree, you've got to admit that Gaughan does not bullshit up there. He also looked good rocking the monochromatic chic; maybe not as stylish as Curran in her sharp blue jacket, but still pretty natch. A-
The most memorable speaker in Hudson County politics had himself another quotable evening. I already mentioned that I support his stand against abatements for the Waterfront, but I also dug his summary challenge to LeFrak -- if you guys feel you can't build on that property, we can surely put you in touch with a developer who will. That's typical Maldonado-style gauntlet-throwing, and of course I can dig it. But my Councilman is always at his peak feistiness when discussing the P.A.D., and the New Gold decision to cry discrimination really stood his moustache on end. I could not hope to improve upon his rhetoric, so I'm just going to quote it directly. "I take great offense," he said, "to an attorney representing a multibillionaire talking to all the African Americans and Latinos in here about discrimination. When 110 was coming down and we tried to save it, the owner thumbed his nose at the City Council. It is a great pleasure for me tonight to vote 'aye' and thumb my nose at Mr. Goldman." A
Getting dropped from the Mayor's ticket does not seem to have improved Councilwoman Richardson's disposition any. She is still by far the most combative member of the municipal government, impatient with vague statements and willing to interrogate speakers at length. She raked a couple of developers over the coals last night, including one whose prior work in her ward she characterized as shoddy. We need good-quality affordable housing, she told him, we don't need shanties. She's also clearly got a marginalization complex, and considering the way she's been treated by her colleagues, who could blame her? If you want to get on the wrong side of the Ward F Councilwoman, go ahead and bypass her in negotiations and then watch the fun. Richardson never smiles and frequently seems impatient; she is the councilperson most likely to cut off a speaker in mid-sentence. Last night, she even stopped Charles Kessler to make him define the word "serpentine". Some might be troubled that we've elected an official who doesn't know what "serpentine" means; I'm pleased that there's somebody up there interested in making sure she understands what everybody is talking about. She's unashamed, that's for sure. B+
Mariano Vega (At-Large)
Councilman Vega gets more and more clerical with each meeting -- by summer, they're going to fit this guy with a collar. He proceeds with a pastor's remove (and occasional sanctimony). That irritates some people, but I find it a nice contrast in style with some of the more cantankerous Councilpeople. He and Maldonado have always made a good tag team -- for instance, last night Vega did a poised little bit about the need to redevelop Owen Grundy Pier, its unique qualities and the benefits it provides, and then Maldonado stood up and thanked God that the Tsereteli monument wasn't going to be there. Councilman Vega likes to correct the mistakes made by colleagues and speakers, which would be irritating if he wasn't usually right; last night, he had little patience with provincials talking about privileging those who were Jersey City born and raised. He also opened the door to granting reparations to the former Arts Center tenants by saying that the City had a moral responsibility to bring back the artists who were displaced. I'm not sure I would have used the language of morality there, but I'll take it. Vega also wins points for correctly identifying Eddie Torres as the star performer of the evening, and for defending a speaker who had been threatened by Harvey Smith. A-
Late, and not terribly helpful when he did arrive. He's a little bit less confusing in his support of abatements than Lipski is, but that's not saying much. When it was time to vote, he began by saying that everything he wanted to say had already been said by Councilman Lipski and Councilman Gaughan... and then proceeded to speak for ten minutes anyway. If you're going to be Councilman Ditto, the least you can do is keep your Xerox jobs brief. Brennan felt the need to let everybody know that the New Gold attorney was his friend. Yecch, I'd have kept that under my hat if I were he. C
L. Harvey Smith (Council President)
With public speakers lined up clear to Grand Street, Council President Smith had his work cut out for him last night. He began by encouraging both sides of the abatement choose three or four representative speakers and let them do the talking; of course, nobody took him up on the suggestion. He did tolerate a suprising amount of redundancy, especially from speakers who have been staples at City Council meetings. Instead, Smith whacked a few of the newer anti-abatement voices. When Pablo Meyergunter, a kid from Jersey Avenue, asked about the long-term status of the City's bond status, Smith cut him off and insisted that because of the refinancing, Jersey City's rating was a good one. (Never mind that Smith could not remember the specific rating; he was just damned sure that Meyergunter's concerns were misplaced, and we all shouldn't worry.) The Council President was incredibly nasty to another speaker who suggested that local politicians might be on the take from local developers. He pointed out the armed guard in the hall, and suggested that he was there to discipline speakers who get out of line. I do not believe that Harvey Smith is corrupt. But what he does not seem to be able to understand is that every time he pulls these unnecessary strong-arm tactics, he reinforces the idea that the Council has something to hide. Smith is not running for re-election, and I cannot say I am unhappy about that. It'll be a great relief when this body gets a new presiding officer. C-
Representative public speakers.
The great: Eddie Torres. Anti-abatement speakers made much of the LeFrak Organization's decision to bus in speakers; Mia Scanga implied that the developer paid employees to advocate on behalf of the tax incentive. Many of those who appeared on behalf of the abatement did appear to be reading prepared or memorized text, and discharged their speeches with the flat affect of the poorly-drilled hired gun. But union worker Eddie Torres gave a vibrant human face to the pro-abatement side, arguing anecdotally and with great passion about the many ways that the original Newport project changed his life. He was able to get a local job, he got his union card, he acquired skills that he used to get work elsewhere. At times, he seemed to be arguing that abatements were something like a local version of the WPA: a government-subsidized training facility for local workers without high school diplomas, but who could get on-the-job training on construction sites. His performance was heartfelt and electrifying, and impossible for a progressive to dismiss easily.
The good: Janet Munson. If many of the pro-abatement speakers felt canned, some of the anti-abatement folks came off as shrill, self-absorbed, and self-entitled. (Actual statement made by an anti-abatement speaker: "people forget that over the past three years, my taxes have gone up.") But Munson spoke with tremendous clarity about the broken promises of the LeFrak organization and Newport, and reasoned -- correctly, I'd surmise -- that the threat of rescinding the abatement was the only hammer that the local government could hold over the developer. Her dedication to greenspace at Newport was both inspiring and convincing. To developers who build corporate gyms instead of parks, and who claim concrete medians as open space, she had this to say: "I don't know any ten year olds who use a stairmaster."
The funny: Dan Falcon (again). The JCList webmaster confronted LeFrak about the unrealistically low sale prices they'd submitted to the city. To the amusement of the anti-abatement crowd, he kept offering to whip out his checkbook and buy a waterfront condominium "right now" for 300k. Hey, you'd do it, too. To be fair, Mr. McCann from LeFrak later explained that his organization lowballed the municipal government in order to keep expectations manageable.
The bad: James Francis Waddleton. Slytherin prefect-in-training Waddleton wanted to deny artist certification to those who did not have "Jersey City blood running through their veins". Geez, and I thought I was a provincial. No pure-blood fascism for me, thanks. He later disparaged the Arts Center; calling it "a sequel to Animal House". Never mind the veracity of this claim or the absurd idea of toga partying hearty with Andrejz Lech or Bill Barrell -- what the hell kind of Jersey loyalist puts down Animal House?
The ugly: Daniel Horgan. Comparing the P.A.D. to Selma in 1953 is the single most arrogant and vicious piece of legal legerdemain I've seen on this floor, and that's with some serious competition from Horgan's own firm. The New Gold lawyer either has no idea what real discrimination is, or he's got a will to be loathed by everybody looking to build a better community in Downtown Jersey City. He may have a point about historic preservation making it next to impossible for landowners to develop the lots in the P.A.D., but his legal hyperbole is so irresponsible and vampiric that there's no way to access any of his suggestions as anything other than destructive. Oh, and striding into that arena and blaming the city for what went down at 110 would have been breathtaking in its chutzpah if it wasn't so consistent with the New Gold line.
February 23, 2005
Four and a half hours of occasionally acrimonious but generally illuminating public debate at City Council tonight boils down to this --
The case for tax abatements: the city needs the money.
The case against abatements is a little more complicated than that. Junior Maldonado, my councilperson and the guy I usually look to for political guidance around here, voted against the new Shore Club abatement at Newport. He felt, as did Healy during the campaign, that abatements weren't necessary Downtown. That sidesteps the issue of whether or not the city actually needs the money, or whether giving LeFrak and Newport a tax break is in the long-term financial interest of the city. But I'm satisfied with Maldonado's vote, and I think if I had been up there, I'd have voted the same way, and for similar reasons.
I have six pages of single-spaced notes from the meeting sitting on my laptop, and I'd love nothing better than to spend the next four hours typing up my scorecard. But I also have a deadline for the Courier-News to hit. I'll get that story finished and sent to Somerville. Look for a big City Council write-up late tomorrow.
February 22, 2005
One thing I do know about municipal finance: nothing is ever as straightforward as activists make it seem. But opponents of tax abatements have done a much better job of framing this issue than the supporters have. Those who oppose Downtown abatements argue that they constitute a poor tax on other parts of town -- that long-established working-class neighborhoods are picking up the property tax bill for new developments.
I'm not sure I buy this, either. But every time an abatements advocate steps up to the microphone and acts like the vagaries of finance are too complex for the great unwashed to grasp, the anti-abatement camp wins new recruits. The argument against abatements is an immediate one, and one that makes internal logic: somebody is going to have to pay the tax bill, and if it isn't new developers, it's bound to be old residents. If those who support abatements cannot come up with a countervailing argument that makes a similar intuitive sense, they're going to be thrashed silly on this issue.
Abatement advocates old and new (and Johnny-come-latelies like the Mayor) are proceeding as if they don't owe the public an rationale. That's a big mistake. Right now, the average Jersey City voter either doesn't know what an abatement is, or she thinks it's the work of the devil. As Election Day approaches, the number of people convinced that abatements are unfair is going to keep escalating until somebody stands up and explains why they aren't. The Mayor doesn't get a pass on this one. I think he's underestimating the degree to which his ticket is vulnerable on this issue.
This may seem like old news or at least a delayed reaction, but bear with me; I was sick, and I didn't get a chance to post. Mayor Healy recently supported tax abatements for a new Silverman development on Washington Boulevard (check out the cross streets). This outraged those who normally get outraged about tax abatements, and also pissed off those who remember that when Healy ran for mayor, he promised he wouldn't abate taxes on Downtown properties.
Me, I am no public financier. I couldn't tell you whether tax abatements for that property are a good idea or not. Mia Scanga believes one thing and Steve Lipski believes another, and my gut says that the truth is somewhere between those extremes. I do know that when Healy said during the October campaign that he wasn't going to grant abatements to Downtown developers, I saw that as a reasonable negotiation between these two positions. I also know that the perspective that comes from holding office can change minds. That's okay.
What isn't okay, though, is making believe that the map doesn't exist, or that we're all either blind or retarded. See, in the course of explaining the policy reversal, the Healy Administration tried to claim that Washington Boulevard wasn't really the waterfront. Never mind that the property they're abating is three blocks closer to the waterfront than Rascals On The Waterfront, or that nothing but a parking lot separates the proposed tower from Harborside. When then-Councilman Healy stood up at Cordero School and spoke about redirecting abatements, he didn't use the word "waterfront"; he said "Downtown". Tax abatements shouldn't be given out to Downtown properties -- there were other parts of Jersey City in need of that kind of development stimulus.
Mayor Healy is allowed to change his mind. He can get up and say, hey, I was wrong during the campaign; I've looked at the books with my finance people, and tax abatements are actually necessary Downtown. That might seem a little slippery to you, but politicians need to be given some latitude for intellectual growth. What Mayor Healy absolutely cannot do is insult our intelligence with language games and sleight-of-hand, and misrepresent the spirit of his campaign promises to make it look like he's been consistent. He hasn't been consistent. Everybody knows that when Jerramiah Healy said that the Downtown didn't need tax abatements, he meant properties like those on Washington Boulevard.
When we voted to elect Jerramiah Healy mayor, we did so because we were tired of the doublespeak. After years of slippery Hudson County politicians, here was a guy with an appealing bluntness: he might not be telling us what we wanted to hear, but he wasn't trying to sugarcoat his stances. But on this abatement issue, he's been showing us some of that old time Jersey City mojo that we were hoping we could rid ourselves of. We can argue about abatements all day; that's not what's at issue here. Mayor Healy has gone back on a campaign promise, and he needs to do a better job explaining to us why he has.
February 20, 2005
I'm back, I'm rapping bad, I'm back, I'm badder; ya'll probably think I'm taking rap Viagra. I got completely steamrolled by illness over the past week -- on Tuesday and Wednesday, I honestly found walking across the room a major challenge. But I am all healed up now, and ready to go. We'll now return to daily broadcasts from the heart of the metropolis.
Tomorrow I'll be getting back to local politics, but before I do, I want to point out that there are two new cafes opening in my neighborhood this week. One of them, saddled with the ghastly name Legal Grounds, is quite literally next door to our flat. The other is right across Mercer Street from City Hall. It's called Beechwood Market, and it looks very promising. Because I am a nosy Parker, I squashed my little face up against the window today to see what was going on inside. They noticed. Rather than grab me by the collar and beat the hell out of me, though, they invited me in and gave me two croissants and four truffles. Way to make a good impression.
In an effort to further my popular reorientation from a clown who writes all day to a clown who writes all day and rocks all night, I added a page of photos of me in action. Now you fools will see! Send me more, if you've got them.
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February 6, 2005
Like Usher, I too have my confessions. I'm not having a baby with a woman I barely even know, but I have been using a pirated copy of Dreamweaver for the past two years. I still don't know how to burn CDs or rip files, so this is the only piece of bootleg software I own. I don't know if you've encountered similar problems with your own pirated software, but this ripped disc has been a constant source of frustration for me. Many important features don't work, and I can count on at least two freezes or CTDs whenever I update the site (I have already had one today). But the worst part has been that I've never had a manual. I don't have a working product code, so I can't access the tutorials. I learned my HTML from a crappy free site, and I've dowloaded the few updates I've been able to ferret out of a server in Russia. I first logged into Gulag Online, or whatever it's called, in April 2003, and I continue to get spam in Cyrillic.
Anyway, Macromedia can call off the dogs now, because I've gone legit: Hilary got me an actual boxed copy of Dreamweaver 4. It comes bundled with a program called Fireworks, a graphics editor. I still don't have much patience for diddling with visuals, so I doubt I will use it very much. But I'm eighty pages into the manual, and I have already doubled my knowledge of webdesign (all right, all together now). For instance, I had no idea you were supposed to define the layout of the page before you started writing. This probably seems obvious to a normal person, but it's just not the way I live: first I generate the ocean of verbiage, and then I try to impose some order on it. Or not. But you catch my drift -- I picked up enough secondhand HTML knowledge to allow me to write a whole hell of a lot and stick it on the Internet where everybody could see it, and on a certain primal level, that was satisfactory to me.
And I probably could be satisfied in perpetuity with the silly green-on-white style -- meant to simulate the look of a TRS-80 -- of the TMR. But learning new tricks makes me anxious to use them. I have already admitted that I've entertained the idea of installing Wordpress on this page, and running it like a weblog. Ultimately, I rejected that idea because I hate weblogs. I didn't have a layout alternative ready, though, and I think my stand just ended up looking like Luddism. Now I've got no excuse: it's on me to put my money where my pixels are, and design something cool enough to appeal to both web vets and words-first journal surfers.
It might not be this site, though. I might choose to leave the Tris McCall Report the way it is, and launch a parallel entity on this server. Or I might overhaul the navigation page of the TMR, and change the flow of the site. Or I might apply a template (now that I know how to apply templates) to all two hundred pages in my root folder. I know I have to do a better job of disaggregating the material about my records from my usual ranting, because it's almost impossible to find anything about Shootout on the site without hacking your way through a forest of pages about Jersey City politics. There's something cool and satisfying about that, too, but upon review, I might like to change it. I might want to put MP3s up here somewhere.
The Tris McCall Report turns two years old on March 26. By then, I hope to have completed all of the Dreaweaver and Fireworks tutorials on this disc. I'm going to take a few days after the birthday to do a redesign, or a launch, or to start something something else at a parallel ISP. I haven't decided yet. But the terrible twos are coming.
About 2005:
About 2004:
December, November, October, September, August, July, June, May, Scumbaguette, March, February, January.
About 2003: