The Brooklyn Rail

The director David Lynch found acclaim for his forays into the shadowy underworld of Los Angeles, as well as his curdled take on small-town American life. But the source of his inspiration came from an unlikely place relative to those two poles: Philadelphia, where he studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. “Philadelphia is horrible, but in a very interesting way,” he observed. “There were places there that had been allowed to decay, where there was so much fear and crime that just for a moment there was an opening to another world. It was fear, but it was so strong, and so magical, like a magnet, that your imagination was always sparking…” In fact, he became known as a sort of anti-bard of the city, once declaring, “I’ve said many, many, many unkind things about Philadelphia, and I meant every one.”

Of course, Lynch lived in the city more than fifty years ago, and its fortunes continue to change. The downtown area in particular has been restored, and a greater degree of civility has returned; the statue portraying the notoriously racist mayor, Frank Rizzo, was finally removed a few years ago. The city once described by inventor and collector Albert C. Barnes as a “depressing intellectual slum” is actually the home to a number of vibrant art and academic institutions, including the great Philadelphia Museum of Art and the University of Pennsylvania. (The city got its revenge on Barnes by taking the extraordinary painting collection he assembled and moving it from nearby Merion to a location in the center of town, against his wishes.) Tourism has picked up considerably, not just to see the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, but for a revived restaurant and cultural scene. The traditional put-downs of Philadelphia as a backwater no longer seem warranted.

One of the greatest legacies the city has produced is in music. Two of jazz’s greatest innovators, John Coltrane and Sun Ra, lived for a number of years in Philadelphia (initiatives are underway to preserve both of their houses), and the Arkestra still keeps its communal headquarters in the city. McCoy Tyner, the Heath Brothers, and many others round out this august group. The pop scene is consistently strong, ranging from the days of American Bandstand, which was originally filmed in Philly, to current creative bands like The War on Drugs and Kurt Vile & the Violators. Soul has always been widely represented, from the Philly sound created by producers Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff at Sigma Sound Studios to the omnivorous style of The Roots and its indefatigable leader, Questlove. And classical music has always been vital, with the monumental legacy of the Philadelphia Orchestra, and the Curtis Institute.

But for all the richness of these resources, the city has languished as a center for presenting important creative developments, especially in improvised music. Ars Nova Workshop entered this landscape when it began presenting concerts in 2000. Founded by Mark Christman soon after his graduation from local Drexel College, it has developed an ever-expanding program, offering hundreds of shows in its quarter-century on the scene. For most of its existence, these were presented by an all-volunteer crew at whatever spaces they could find, such as the International House in West Philly. Ten years ago, the organization gradually began to bring on staff. And just this year, it has entered into an arrangement to present the majority of its shows at a club space called Solar Myth, not far from the legendary Pat’s King of Steaks, the original home of the Philly cheesesteak.

From March through May of this year, Ars Nova Workshop will present special twenty-fifth anniversary programming, with concerts that range across the musical spectrum. These will include John Zorn’s New Masada Quartet, Thurston Moore, The Messthetics with James Brandon Lewis, and Roscoe Mitchell with Tyshawn Sorey. This is a capstone and show of strength for an organization that has presented such major figures as Cecil Taylor, Rhys Chatham, Henry Threadgill, and Vijay Iyer.

One person who has benefited greatly from the programming at Ars Nova Workshop is music publicist, consultant, and devoted advocate Matt Merewitz. Over a stretch of living in Philly, he caught scores of shows there, and recently interviewed Christman about the growth of this complex entity, as well as its core operating principles. “Improvisation is at the heart of everything we do,” Christman noted in their interview:

Not just in the music we present, but in how we operate as an organization. Improvisation teaches us to complement each other, be flexible, and embrace uncertainty. Those principles aren’t just musical; they’re a model for life and change. I truly believe that institutions—and society as a whole—have moved away from the values of improvisation. But values like hospitality, adaptability, collaboration—are exactly what we need to function better and create meaningful change.

Christman also told Merewitz that he envisions Ars Nova Workshop as much more than a concert producer. “Presenting this music isn’t just about bringing audiences together to hear extraordinary music from extraordinary musicians,” he says. “For me, this music represents resilience and solidarity. It models social cohesion, inspires nonconformity, and opens up possibilities for alternative futures. It’s about new forms, unexpected collaborations, and risk-taking.” This has meant branching out into other areas, such as workshops and visual arts presentations; a few years back there was a major presentation on polymath Milford Graves, and this autumn there will be a show called The Living Temple devoted to Swedish artist, designer, and musician Moki Cherry.

Living in New York, where there are so many venues and music presenters offering ambitious fare, it’s easy to lose sight of what an organization like Ars Nova Workshop means to a smaller city. It’s roughly analogous to the situation with museums. In New York there is a whole strata of museums, with an attendant group of patrons, visitors, critics, and others taking a serious interest. But in a lot of places, the town museum is just that—The Museum—and the loyalty to it and passion surrounding it is deeply invested with hometown pride.

Though Philly is the sixth largest city in the country, with more than one-and-a-half million residents, it needs organizations like Ars Nova Workshop to help knit the scene together. There is a particular kind of pride, sometimes even perverse, that develops in smaller cities. In Cleveland, where I grew up, a motto caught on in the 1970s, when the city was at a low ebb of financial disarray and population decay: “Cleveland: You’ve Got to Be Tough.” Philadelphia also revels in a self-image centered on toughness. But knowing that there are entities that link you to the wider world, without forsaking what makes your city special, broadens the outlook and gives residents there an important vista on what’s happening out beyond its borders. Music is the connector, and Ars Nova always takes tremendous care in giving it voice locally. The mission is of the highest importance; in the words of its otherworldly adopted son, Sun Ra, “The earth cannot move without music.”