Dance Space

"Do we need lotion?"
~A line from the BROS Musical, The Terrible Secret of Lunastus

In the heart of Station North Arts District lies the Bell Foundry, which is also the current Headquarters for the BROS (Baltimore Rock Opera Society). In the early spring the BROS held auditions for the Terrible Secret of Lunastus which is a rock opera set on the planet Lunastus which is home to utterly powerful alien technology and demonic, hip-hop tree dancers. Rehearsals usually take place at the Bell Foundry, but time and meeting space has become limited. As a result, tresor space has become the dance rehearsal space every Monday evening until August for the hip-hop dancing Nog trees whose noxious eyeball fruit produce fumes poisonous to humans.

New Beginnings for a New Year

So it's been a doozy let me tell y'all. Not only did we survive the happenstances of holiday hijinks (i.e. Christmas raves, removing drywall, and erecting staircases), we also developed our space and the possibility of utilizing our Tresor Space as a community gathering center for various groups in the area.

We have been working hard to get this place primed to host larger gatherings of friends and groups of people. We carpeted our stage, painted the walls to resemble a 90's library/Discovery Zone, added walls to my loft bedroom, and created a whole new loft in order to store Sean's photography/videography equipment. Neither of us can remember a day when we got back here and had nothing to do or build.

Also thanks to our cycling friend Brian, we learned about a cheap industrial salvage yard and warehouse called Loading Dock. This place was pretty much my wet dream; I could buy 8ft-long planks of 2x10 hardwood for literally $2. I even acquired some vinyl siding for the stage edge as well as wrought iron stairs that we eventually installed to lead up to the newly built storage loft.

Every now and then people will ask us if we own the place. When we tell them that we are merely renting this unit, they will quizzically look at us and wonder why we would invest time, effort, and money in a place that we will never own. To me it's such a silly question, because most of these people miss the point. It's not about knowing that I will ever own this place, but that the work, the toil, and the experiences shared in this place give us life and meaning. Yes I have been exhausted, sleep-deprived, swinging in my emotions since I have lived here, but I would not have it any other way. We thrive in this weird, creative cacophony of ideas sequestered in our own little corner of Station North Arts District.

We have a few experiences to look forward to: a third roommate in the weird side room that connects the hallway from our kitchen to the main gallery space, filming with Baltimore In Conversation, hosting artists for Alloverstreet, potluck dinners with Baltimore Returned Peace Corps Volunteers, and gatherings with Baltimore Burners. The idea is to build community here with the various tribes and friend groups with whom we've been spending time. In a few short months, we have started to see this place, our home as a hub for people to come together and share their stories, experiences, and art.

Whales

"Oh no! Foot cramp! Tree! I'm falling!" *Thud*
~Josh de Tristan Cruz, RPCV Uganda

Aside from biking through the frigid air of Baltimore to traditional parties filled with architects and decadent mansion parties, we also enjoy photoshoots with swords and partner acro-yoga.

Notorious R.B.G

"If I had any talent in the world, any talent that God could give me, I would be a great diva."
~Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Supreme Court Justice

The other day I asked Sean to create one of those dope-ass sweaters that you see the cool-millenial kids wearing these days on the block as they hip-hop EDM dance and do extra-curriculars in their spare time. The inspiration for the design stems from Ruth Bader Ginsburg's ascribed title taken from The Notorious B.I.G. Her notoriety comes from being the leader of the liberal justices on the Supreme Court, and often the one writing the dissenting liberal opinion after a case. Even as the oldest serving justice, her jurisprudence and rational demeanor has led to liberal gains concerning abortion rights, same-sex marriage, and gender equality. In essence, she had become the level-headed, sage-like national treasure embodied in a jabot-wearing powerhouse of a woman, representing the patience and mic-drop inducing opinions that millenials wished they had.

So tresor space proudly unveils the newest article of clothing that will keep you warm during the colds months and can be given as a C̶h̶r̶i̶s̶t̶m̶a̶s̶ Chanukah gift to the more Conservative members of your family that may or may not be treasured for years to come. Let your friends know that you have faith in the checks and balances of our government and that if all else fails the Notorious R.B.G. will uphold our inalienable rights.

Notorious R.B.G. Sweater <<click here!

Meh, the pen is still mightier than the sword.

Gruntled Onesies

"Whenever there's something near my mouth, I have a natural inclination to eat it."
~Rachel Belkin, RPCV

It's been a gruntling and exhausting few weeks here at tresor space. We've hosted Halloween gatherings, hungover brunches, and as of recently a 4am comedown after nights well-lived dancing against the patriarchy, flailing to Dan Deacon at The Compound, and burning at the National Monument.

"I want to be a good witch."

What can I say other than that this place has now hosted several friends from many walks of life. Many visitors have stated that this place is not only ideal for preparing for an adventure, but also for the aftermath of an adventurous night "painting the town" when all you want to do is sink into a warm couch as the ambient murmurs of the new Bon Iver album accompanied by the colorful glow of hue lights hanging from the ceiling.

"We live in Mount Vernon."

"Yeah, I don't think that your loft floor will collapse..."

"Dude, this is awesome!"

What I have started to learn is the potential of this place. It's a guilty pleasure of ours to bring in someone into our space and see them marvel at the new projects and endeavors on which we worked. It's starting to be a running joke that as soon as a new visitor stops by, Sean immediately shows off the colored hue lights, the sound system, and his hippy-trap of a room while I show them the kitchen, lofts, and general cleanliness of an artist residence.

"We definitely survived Peace Corps."

"The Queen ain't got nothin' on me... Also I'm so cold."

Let's just say that these days mantle us with creative outlets and gruntle us so much.

Baltimore in Space

Before it started to get unbearably cold such that the tears streaming from my eyes from waking up so early froze into cute icicles, I would spend my Tuesday afternoon participating in the Acro-Yoga jam at St. Luke's Church in Hampden. Clad in cut-off jean shorts and a black tank, I biked over to the Church yard where I hoped to learn some Acro-Yoga since that was trending on social media. I met this eager, strong person named Frankie who came up to me and asked me if I wanted to play. I eagerly agreed, and she taught me my first few moves in Acro-Yoga. Week after week, I would see her from time-to-time and we would practice more advanced moves together.

Another tradition that we would share was getting the $1 Taco Tuesday special at Holy Frijoles in Hampden after the Acro-Yoga jam. One evening in late-July, Frankie and I shared an end of a table there. As we connected over how much we loved the bottomless tortilla chips and our fondness for nachos, she shared how she was also a graffiti artist. I told her that my friends and I were thinking of starting a creative space where we could film, photograph, and host artists. Just like when I first met her, she eagerly agreed to come over and create a piece of art with her graffiti.

A few weeks later she came over with her Montana Black spray paint cans, stencils of Boh, the Maryland Flag, and the Domino Sugar sign. She aimed to create Baltimore in space. It was this idea that when you drive into Baltimore from the southern highways, you can look up and see several versions of Baltimore's own North Star that herald your arrival home. It's something completely beautiful to know that you have come back to your own city with symbols representing your home.

I felt so glad to have the opportunity to host some friends and acquaintances as Frankie created her piece. While she worked, Sean took video in order to document her process and her story. At the end of the day, we had inhaled a lot of unhealthy fumes, covered the stage with spray paint, and felt spent using our space for the first time as an arts space. In some ways, it was almost a performance. Now all we need to do is continue past this first project with the same eagerness that started this new connection.

Conduct Me Better

On Friday we threw a little shindig; nothing crazy, but a test-run to see if this space could host a diverse group of people. Invitees included a veteran, a cop, acro-yogis, REI employees, emergency hotline operators, self-employed employees, engineers, dancers, and cyclists. At some point in the night as rhythmic bump of another Logic song played through the speakers of our main room, a connection was made. Sean met one of my friends whom I made while biking as part of an art installation during Baltimore's inaugural Light City back in April. This friend, Brian, was also a photographer and saw Sean's newly installed roll-down cyc wall that could be used for photo-shoots.

After a slightly hungover and sticky Saturday morning, Brian came over with his client and took a few photos in the studio. There is something unique about living in a live-in studio: I talked with his client as I ironed my shirts in preparation for the week, as Brian and Sean fiddled around with the strobes and the gels for the shoot. His client seemed to be in awe that people lived in places like this and lived our lives here. He talked about his philosophy of life with his wife and how they are excited to try and push themselves to more adventures in life. In-between the clouds of steam emanating from my pressed shirts, I would look over at the living-room turned photo-studio and smiled knowing that this was my life right now.

Photo by Brian O'Doherty