The politics of art

A swell proposal to launch an arts district in Green Island blew up in Mayor Raymond Mariano's face. Now he faces the most public political challenge of his career -- how to look like a leader.

by Kristen Lombardi

Minutes before one of Mayor Raymond Mariano's more humbling moments in political life, he approaches a few backers waiting for his scheduled speech and assures them that, this time, he wasn't about to fumble.

"I'm not going to get into trouble," Mariano quietly tells local artist Don Howard and Eva Robbins, director of ARTSWorcester, an arts-advocacy group. They smile, perhaps in appreciation of a tense situation. Mariano reiterates, "I'm going to be very good."

On this particular mid-February evening, Mariano couldn't afford anything less. He's come to the Coral Seafood Restaurant on Green Street to pitch an arts-district proposal for the Green Island neighborhood to 40 area business owners. Mariano has long praised the proposed zone as a "modest, unobtrusive" economic-development tool -- the perfect tool to infuse vitality and dollars into the unsightly, stark streets of Green Island, which is close enough to Union Station that it could easily become Worcester's de facto gateway. Since literally hundreds of artists, along with city councilors, back the proposal, Mariano's been a leading force behind a highly popular project.

But in the past few months, this so-called "win-win" proposal has bumped up against increasingly intense opposition. More than 30 companies, headed by Green Island's biggest landholder and employer, Presmet Corporation, have complained that the city failed to involve them in the planning process; and so, opponents maintain, the proposal now lacks sufficient details to address their concerns -- revolving, largely, around the threat of residents moving into the area and then becoming intolerant of noise and traffic generated by existing business. Although opposing business owners say they've tried to meet with officials in a cooperative vein since November, meetings have practically unraveled, prompting a strongly worded petition against the current proposal which still circulates today.

The opposition's been extremely effective -- after three months of postponing a vote on the proposed zoning change, the planning board ended up endorsing the arts-district proposal yet recommending councilors continue the dialogue with Green Island business owners. In ensuing days, Mariano heeded the advice, asking councilors to delay final action on the proposal for two months.

It hasn't been an easy few weeks for Mariano. And by the time he speaks to the men and women of the Straight Arrow Business Association -- some supportive, some not -- there's an audible solemnity in his normally perky pitch, an occasional pause in his normally swift speech. All eyes fix upon him as he scrambles to save face -- even offering an olive branch.

"I've apologized and I will apologize 50 more times to all those people who didn't read [the proposal] in the newspaper, who said they didn't know about it," he says, his expression at once sincere and official. "We tried to include everybody. We tried to tell everybody, we made sure it was well publicized. . . . People started complaining and I got a little defensive because I thought it was an accusatory tone. But it doesn't make a difference; they didn't know."

Now that a strong-mayor movement is afoot (See "The reformation," on page 12), even more eyes are upon Mariano. And what many political observers are talking about is how the arts-district debacle provides an opportune portrait of a politician who managed to miscalculate almost at the outset and, therefore, to jeopardize the very proposal he's so proudly advanced.

"What's surprising is that this is so amateurish," exclaims one observer, a Mariano supporter. "He botched it for no reason."

The next few weeks, then, are sure to be telling -- for we will be able to witness whether Mariano can quietly assemble the now-divisive neighborhood in order to move the current proposal forward. Back at the Coral Seafood, Mariano's already started, urging the 22 or so business owners who support the district to make themselves known -- so that the years of local artists' efforts and the past year of Mariano's public campaign might be spared a flush down the toilet.

"To some extent," Mariano tells the crowd. "This is about how loud you raise your voices. There are now a few councilors who believe the opposition is the majority, but it's only one opinion."

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Rather than try to understand what would appease the concerned

business owners and, in essence, make them feel better, insiders say,

Raymond Mariano did little more than berate and attempt to bully them into submission.

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The current proposal, sponsored by city councilors, aims to make the area confined by Union Station, Interstate 290, Kelley Square, and Washington Street an "arts overlay district zone," which means the city would allow artists to live and work in the same loft space.

The city's prepared to offer a host of enticing benefits, such as tax incentives, street repairs, tree planting, and decorative lighting, as well as to file state legislation eliminating sales tax on artwork produced and sold there.

Although artists have discussed, then publicly advocated for such a district for years, the current proposal is commonly referred to as "the mayor's proposal." And this is probably because Mariano's proven to be the catalyst. Mariano, who says an arts district appeals to him because it "isn't a typical Worcester project," embraced the notion in late 1997 and soon established a task force, consisting of artists, business people, councilors, and officials, to figure out how to develop one.

Yet here, critics say, Mariano made an initial blunder. For though he selected two people to represent Green Island business interests, the first person has all but disappeared while the second -- Rick Spokis of International Muffler and Brake -- has become a vocal Mariano critic, as well as a vehement opponent of the very proposal he helped draft. What startles political observers most is that Mariano just assumed Spokis would act as a representative, keeping his neighbors abreast of details and himself aware of potential resistance. Which may seem logical, since citizens are usually named to city-advisory groups as liaisons. But Spokis, from all appearances, didn't view his role this way. At a recent public meeting, Spokis actually accused Mariano of trying to "stampede" the proposal, placing Mariano in the rather embarrassing situation of watching one of his hand-picked appointees turn against him.

Mariano, for his part, insists that his appointment of Spokis was an attempt to anticipate opposition. "There is no requirement that I set up a committee. There is no requirement that I include people from the [Green Island] neighborhood," Mariano says. "I took someone who I thought could have a problem with an arts district and put him on the committee because I wanted that input. I wanted people to have their say."

Even so, Green Island companies, while aware of an arts-district discussion, didn't learn from Spokis that Green Island was being targeted. Such details only became apparent when the planning board notified local businesses of the proposed zoning change this past November, even though the mayor's group had been working for 11 months, researching similar efforts elsewhere. Members studied arts districts in places like Providence, New Haven, and Hartford. They then went so far as to survey artists statewide and found that 29 painters, musicians, and writers would definitely either live or work in an arts district somewhere in Worcester.

The task force also focused on Green Island almost instantly. The neighborhood, for one, boasts the infrastructure -- the small shops, the housing stock -- that can bolster these zones, members say. And it has vacant, underdeveloped industrial buildings that, because of their outdated designs, are economically infeasible for manufacturers to rehabilitate, but not artists.

An even more compelling rationale for locating the district in Green Island relates to Union Station's revitalization. For the future transportation center to lure visitors, the city must connect Union Station to its surroundings. And members like Stephen O'Neil, director of the city's Office of Planning and Community Development, acknowledge that Green Island's proximity to the station is exactly why it's top-choice. "The area behind Union Station should be attractive," he says.

Green Island looked so ideal to the task force that Mariano staged a highly scripted "mayor's walk" from Union Station to Green Street to Water Street in June where he greeted a select group of proprietors. He later held a September press conference along Water Street to declare that, based on the task force's research and recommendations, he was proposing an arts district in the neighborhood.

The reasons behind a Green Island arts district seem substantial, thereby suggesting that the proposal may have continued unimpeded if area businesses had been involved early. Instead, opposition surfaced in November, momentum stalled.

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"How can

people say that I've tried to bully them into submission if, ultimately,

I've agreed to look elsewhere? If I wanted to have my way, I could have pushed this through the council."

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Meetings between city officials, proprietors, and artists were soon arranged -- yet, again, Mariano looks to have misjudged. Because rather than try to understand what would appease the concerned business owners and, in essence, make them feel better, insiders say, he did little more than berate and attempt to bully them into submission.

"He got in our faces and barraged us," says one Green Street business owner, asking to remain anonymous. At a December meeting between Mariano and 20 or so businesses, Mariano not only insinuated that proprietors were ignorant, since the current proposal's been highly publicized, the owner, who was at the meeting, recalls, "But he basically told us that if we wanted new sidewalks and street repairs, we should behave."

In short, Mariano managed to display a certain "unprofessionalism," as one businessperson who attended private meetings with Mariano says, which, in turn, left a sour impression among the very people who wanted reassurance, at least, that the city could appreciate their concerns. Such behind-the-scenes treatment has done nothing but further delay; another owner who opposes the current proposal adds, "The mayor's treated us with a divide-and-conquer attitude that engenders negativity. His tactics have caused us lost time."

Mariano, though, outright dismisses such notions: "How can people say that I've tried to bully them into submission if, ultimately, I've agreed to look elsewhere? If I wanted to have my way, I could have pushed this through the council," he says, then adds, "The facts speak for themselves. There's no question I've agreed to slow down and listen to concerns. There's no question I've responded in a comfortable way. Frankly, I've been criticized for delaying the proposal, too. I'm trying to consider everyone and, when you do that, you become the subject of criticism."

What Mariano's ultimately trying to do is a noble cause, for sure. An arts district could bring a much-needed vitality to Worcester's streets, making it an appealing prospect for artists, as well as for young people who've lamented the lackluster social scene here. Since so many residents are rooting for the district, it's possible the issue could be taxing Mariano in a way that's resulted in atypical behavior.

But then, it's more likely a classic-Ray style. Mariano detractors, in fact, have long described him as a "political animal," who latches onto safe, popular issues and then forces his will upon those in disagreement.

As one observer explains, "It's not surprising the [arts district] became polarizing. Mariano has a reputation for being very my-way-or-no-way and for demonizing opponents."

Take, by example, the recent controversy over the Worcester County courthouse. Not long ago, an advisory committee recommended a Main Street lot as the site for a reconstructed courthouse, yet Mariano, along with City Manager Tom Hoover, wanted it to be at the soon-to-be-vacant, vocational high school. After days of public bickering, state legislators and city officials, including Mariano, announced consideration of an altogether different spot (near the voke school) that would require taking an adjacent church parking lot. Church officials have objected, criticizing the city for its general disregard and lack of outreach.

For Mariano observers, the arts-district and the courthouse present parallel instances of the mayor's rough-and-ready style. "In both cases, he's assumed too much and been insensitive to the communities," one critic notes. "His mistakes are amateurish for no reason -- except, perhaps, that he's overestimating his authority."

When you talk to Green Island proprietors, it becomes apparent that their concerns are anything but irrational, considering the business world revolves around plans, statistics, minimized risks. They're accustomed to regarding an arts district as they would a corporate venture, asking the basic question: how may it affect business? And, because the proposed zone's certain to attract more residents, proprietors can't simply trust that their full support now won't end up hurting them later.

"If we increase the probability of residential use next to us, we could be construed as a nuisance in the future," says Julia Gwinn, president of Presmet Corporation, a powdered-metal manufacturer.

This isn't to say that Presmet, along with 30 neighbors, are flat-out opposed to an arts district. In fact, most would tell you that the idea isn't just good, it's "wonderful." What bothers them, though, is that the current proposal fails to get beyond ideas, they say. Even before it became public, Spokis criticized the proposal's lack of planning. And this, he says, continues to be the main reason for his strong objections today. "Businesses in opposition are asking for a plan," Spokis adds. "We're not saying, `No'; we're saying, `Show us what you want to do'."

For proprietors, the proposal, as it stands, is missing essentials of a "well-researched" scheme: it doesn't identify committed investors or artists; it doesn't elaborate on how the city will address existing area problems such as traffic and parking. And, more important, the proposed zoning change is written in such a "loose" fashion, they say, businesses aren't guaranteed against residents moving in, then pushing industry out.

"There are no controls, no definitions," Gwinn says, explaining that the zoning change doesn't even define a commercial artist. "I don't have any protection against future residents."

Business owners contend that they've tried to broach these issues with officials -- but to no avail. "We've asked reasonable questions and they've gone unanswered," Spokis says. Neutral neighborhood folks also agree that officials have yet to provide satisfactory solutions. One Green Street employer, who hasn't taken a public stance, sympathizes with opponents: "Supporters have studied this for a year but when businesses ask, `Where's the research?' no one can point to hard information."

It would be unfair to paint supporters as utterly unwilling to respond. Mariano, for one, claims to take responsibility for the business owners' process complaints. "I didn't reach out as aggressively as I should have," he allows. And artists, who are reluctant to criticize the mayor, acknowledge that it would have been wise had Mariano made courtesy calls. "Better choices could have been made in terms of communicating," concurs Robbins of ARTSWorcester, which has become an effectual artists lobby largely due to the arts-district issue.

But ever since opposition arose, supporters say, they've attempted to answer the expressed concerns. Back in November, officials modified the proposed zoning change by removing the manufacturing-zoned portion of Green Island from the arts district so that the change now applies solely to portions already zoned for residential and retail uses. And, if the zoning amendment were adopted, it wouldn't alter business-zoning requirements or development opportunities permitted today.

Besides, supporters add, the district's hardly going to consume the Green Island neighborhood. In actuality, the city intends to introduce the district on a trial basis, allowing for a small number of artists lofts and then expanding them after evaluation.

While supporters concede that the current proposal could be better defined -- specifically, by lining up developers -- they also stress that the city wouldn't put forth an elaborate plan anyway. "The idea is simply to encourage private development," O'Neil explains.

Yet despite all this, business owners haven't waned in their objections. Indeed, supporters say, opponents keep arguing the same points without offering any solutions. So if supporters were caught off-guard at first, today they're more perplexed by resistance -- particularly by its tone.

As Robbins puts it, "I never expected the personal stuff against Mariano."

Part of the so-called stuff appears to stem from the 1995 Union Station Urban Revitalization Plan, otherwise known by its regrettable acronym USURP. By all accounts, USURP was drafted without much business input, and the politics became messy because, for example, USURP identified establishments that could be taken by eminent domain to rebuild roads. The plan, which hasn't been implemented due to lack of state funding, has helped to foster a general anxiety and paranoia among Green Island businesses. So, O'Neil says, "Owners aren't going to let another plan get by them."

For supporters, though, resentment over USURP doesn't justify business owners' stubbornness now, especially since an arts district isn't analogous to big government seizing control. Whether intentional or not, supporters say, business owners are going out of their way to thwart a proposal that's meant to improve Green Island -- a concept so bewildering that supporters are left offering their own explanations.

Some, such as Mariano, believe that opponents' fears about residents boil down to a NIMBY reaction. "The owners who oppose this just don't want [an arts district] in their area," he says. Others like District One Councilor Stephen Patton, another task-force member, suppose that opponents have a different neighborhood vision. "I suspect what they really want is an industrial/commercial zone," he says.

Such speculation has led to wild theories as well. Some supporters surmise that it's in businesses' best interest to perpetuate Green Island's blighted, depressed state. It's no secret companies like Presmet and Tabletalk Pies are looking to expand. By keeping the area underdeveloped and, hence, property values low, supporters say, companies can buy cheaper land. Others go further, pointing out that most opponents are auto shops, manufacturers, scrap yards. Places, in other words, possibly worried about hidden environmental problems, not intolerant residents.

"In the absence of clear reasons for the opposition," one skeptical supporter concludes. "We have our little theories."

All the hypothesizing about hidden agendas and ulterior motives might amuse business owners -- if, of course, they weren't the ones being called into question. "The theories are creative," Gwinn grants. "But they're absolutely not true." Though opponents dispute the general perception that Green Island is woefully underdeveloped -- citing the area's 900 employees and $30 million payroll as proof -- they don't deny a need for growth. Yet considering the city's past development record, they're not going to embrace the current proposal without answers either.

"I'm all for the city making progress," says Mark Ruffo, who owns K&N Plumbing and Heating, as well as eight other buildings. "But the city's made a lot of mistakes and I can't afford to make them."

Spokis speaks more bluntly, "Why should we trust officials when Worcester's known for coming up with grand ideas and winging it?"

That officials have yet to give business owners the sort of solutions they want has irked them, no doubt. But what seems to irritate them more is how the proposal's been handled -- not just that officials allowed it to gain momentum without consulting Green Island "stakeholders." Or that they're being portrayed as "bad guys" who are unilaterally opposed to everything because they're demanding legitimate answers so late in the game. If proprietors fume over anything, it's the perception that Mariano's muscled the proposed zone forward in spite of them.

This idea started taking shape back in January, when, days before the long-awaited planning board vote, artists circulated a petition, which Mariano helped design, throughout Green Island in hopes of galvanizing support. OPCD employees were also called upon to canvass the neighborhood, seeking signatures on what's been described as a "one-sided petition." At the planning-board meeting, Paul Wasgatt of Safeside Insurance Agency, who opposes the current proposal, questioned the city employees' involvement -- but officials denied association. It was later discovered that a few OPCD employees had gone out at Mariano's request.

"He's playing dirty politics," insists one opponent with obvious agitation. "He's bending the rules behind-the-scenes to circumvent businesses for the sake of an arts district."

At the very least, Mariano's tactics thus far have effectively pitted the artists against the businesses. Now that he's asked the council to table final action on the current proposal for 60 days, Mariano, in essence, has a chance, critics say, to do what he should have done before -- encourage the two groups to recognize a common interest in an arts district.

In the words of one longtime observer, "Now is a great time for [Mariano] to prove he's a strong leader with the skill to bring these groups together and help them see eye-to-eye."

Mariano may have figured out as much. Upon requesting the delay, he publicly stated that he plans to expand the task force to include more businesses, as well as to conduct an "in-depth" study of the current proposal. Since then, Mariano's clarified that, ultimately, he's trying to use this time to reach agreement. "I don't want anyone saying we didn't listen to their concerns," he says. "I don't want to strong-arm anyone; I want to muster consensus instead."

To his credit, Mariano isn't pretending resolution will follow just because he's slowed down the process. "It may not be possible to reach consensus," he cedes. To convince arts-district backers that he isn't giving up on the effort, he's also asking task-force members to consider other neighborhoods that might be compatible with such a district -- in effect, putting the project back at square one.

Task-force members may maintain that not many areas measure up to Green Island, but they have a few places in mind. There are those who've argued that an arts district is better suited to Main Street, especially the struggling North Main section. Artists like Robbins, who doesn't believe North Main has enough warehouse space or storefront shops to sustain a district, also pinpoint portions of Main South -- specifically, from Chandler to Main to Hammond to Southbridge streets -- as an attractive option.

There's little doubt among Mariano detractors that, by placing the district elsewhere, he could save face. "Ray has a fine talent for slipping out of controversy and [thus] accountability," one critic says. "All he has to do here is adjust the footprint."

For now, though, Mariano isn't abandoning Green Island. And so the next few weeks will truly be a test of whether Mariano has not merely the political finesse but the mettle to mend fences between two alienated groups in attempt to promote change -- which, of course, is exactly what a strong mayor would do.

It's a formidable task, for certain. But one that Green Island business owners practically expect from their city leaders.

"Instead of making this a win-lose situation, Mariano should be making this a win-win for everyone," one opponent concludes. "That is the ultimate in political savviness and skill."

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com