It was Sunday, January 6, 2008, at 11:09 p.m. I was looking forward to sleeping hard that night. I’d been moving for the past four days, and I was tired. My Monday would begin at 6 a.m. with my two daughters, ages one and three. Then the phone rang. It was my friend Nick Meriwether calling from Commerce Street Artists’ Warehouse, where I’d had a studio for more than five years.
“Dale, you need to come to the warehouse,” he said. Maggi Battalino had called the police, who were headed to the building. He added, “I think it’s about the guys who are helping you move.”
Driving away from CSAW earlier that evening with a load in my truck that looked like something out of “Sanford and Son,” I’d thought I was leaving the building for the last time. I should have known there would be one more scene. There were a number of events leading up to that weekend when I, along with 12 other CSAW artists, moved out. We’d been forced from the building by former CSAW “President and Treasurer” Maggi Battalino.
This story has been told in a number of venues around Houston. Some of you have probably heard someone’s version. I had a studio there for over five years, was on the board at CSAW, attended most of the general tenant meetings, and many of my former neighbors in the building are also my friends. From my point of view, Maggi Battalino made a series of moves that led to the breakdown of CSAW as the community had known it, among them:
- Evicting two CSAW artists, presumably for being two days late paying rent;
- Threatening to evict me for letting a friend work in my studio;
- Without consulting the board, decreeing her own series of rules, such as no smoking and no spray-painting, that undermined the culture of the building;
- Refusing to hand over the CSAW books when requested by board members;
- Hiring a lawyer with CSAW funds to fight against CSAW artists;
- Refusing to recognize that the CSAW board voted her out;
- Refusing to recognize the CSAW board itself, and demanding that artists pay rent to a new entity instead of CSAW;
- Giving “Notices to Vacate” to the 13 artists who paid their rent to the original entity;
- Writing numerous checks to “cash” amounting to over $26,000. Some examples from July 31- August 31, 2007, according to records obtained from our bank:
- July 31- $3,800
- August 1- $500
- August 2- $500
- August 7- $1,000
- August 13- $1,000
- August 14- $3,200
- August 17- $2,500
- August 22- $1,800
- August 31- $1,200
Her questionable actions were becoming commonplace. But because she refused to communicate with the tenants or board members, we had no knowledge of our financial situation, and specifically of all of these checks written to “cash,” until recently. It had seemed easier to humor her, biding our time and hoping that the building would change hands from an owner who communicated only with Maggi to an owner with an understanding of the building’s history, who would listen to the organization that leased it. There were people in the community who were working towards this end. But that didn’t happen, and our time ran out. Soon we were all looking for new workspaces.
What none of us understood was why Maggi was doing this. As a friend of mine put it, “The Houston art community is pretty small. What is she thinking?” No one knew. For months, Maggi had almost exclusively communicated with her fellow tenants through her attorney, Franklin Holcomb.
When I moved my studio into 2315 Commerce Street in November of 2002, it was owned by a woman I knew only as Mrs. Dumas and leased to CSAW, an organization of artists who ran the building much like a co-op. In general, CSAW has always been known for being a little out there. It’s been operating as artists’ studios for over 20 years, and stories from the early days are almost as crazy as this one. Because it was run by the artists and the artists decided who could get a studio there, we had a lot of freedom and could take a lot of chances. This didn’t always work out, and we can probably all remember at least one really crappy show that happened at CSAW – I remember plenty. But every now and then something really great would happen. One good example of this was the art collective “I Love You Baby.” I was a part of that collective and every Wednesday we met for an evening of crazy antics in the name of Art. We worked hard to see that our process included having fun, and our studio became known as a place where artists from all over could get together, meet one another, exchange ideas and have a blast doing it. If you didn’t see Rodney Elliot, one of the members of ILYB, take his pants off or dump a bucket of paint on his head, then you left too early.
The bottom line with Commerce Street was that it was a great deal. Mrs. Dumas charged us very little rent for a lot of studio space, and we were allowed to do pretty much whatever we wanted. And we did.
But Mrs. Dumas was getting pretty old – like, over 100. Then one day she died. After that, her estate went into probate; because of this, the entity that had been cashing CSAW’s rent checks stopped cashing them. At the time, the structure of our organization included an accountant, to whom we paid a monthly fee, and an accounts liaison. The liaison was an artist in the building who reported to us any news from our accountant. Neither of these people was doing a very good job. During this period, several of the tenants got behind on their rent payments to CSAW, including the accounts liaison. The tenants who were paying rent continued to have their checks cashed and deposited into the CSAW account, but the checks written from CSAW to the building owner weren’t being cashed. Because the accountant and liaison weren’t paying attention, this continued for a while. Eventually, the family sorted out the estate, and one day several family members came to the building, I guess to check out what they had inherited. Maggi was there and was able to determine from family members that they had a bunch of our checks that they were about to cash. They wanted to make sure that was going to be okay.
Well, guess what? It wasn’t. We found ourselves around $10,000 in the hole. Maggi became our contact with the family. This was happening in the early months of 2006. We had a meeting in March and agreed to increase our individual studio rents in order to pay back our debt by the first of the year. It was at this meeting that Maggi was given the title “Adjunct President and Treasurer.” We also agreed that this position was temporary. We were supposed to reassess the situation when the debt was paid. It was believed at the time that our five-year lease with the owners was to expire at the end of 2006, but that there was a clause in the lease that authorized us to renew it for another five years if we were in good standing. So the idea was, be in good standing at the end of 2006. I’m not sure what happened to all that.
One day, “No Smoking” signs started going up in the hallways. Then a memorandum went around that said no spray paint in the building. This is in a building that had been notorious for hosting all kinds of crazy stuff. No spray paint? Wasn’t it at CSAW that Jack Massing emptied an entire can of spray paint on a single spot on the gallery wall during an opening? What do you think that smelled like? At the time, we all just kind of scratched our heads, called a meeting, took a vote and undid the messed-up things Maggi was doing. It was all just kind of laughable.
That changed when she hired a lawyer and had an eviction notice put on the door of tenants Skeez and Xavier from studio D, presumably for being two days late on rent. But the artists in the building didn’t think it was about that at all. For starters, Skeez and Xavier liked to use spray paint.
For Maggi, this move was a big step. She went to court with the family’s blessing and won. After that, a lot of tenants were afraid that if you crossed her, she’d find reason to evict you.
And she tried. This past summer, I opened my studio to a friend, Michael Andrews, so that he could work on a big project he had going. He’d just come home after getting his MFA and landed a large commission that required a big space for a short time. I talked with the artists on either side of me about him and his project, and they assured me he was no bother. Then one day, I got a call from Michael. Maggi had just knocked on the door,and when he opened it she wouldn’t let him say a word.
“This is Dale’s studio and you need to leave,” she said and turned to walk away.
“Ma’am?” was all he was able to get out.
“If I have to come back, I won’t be alone,” she replied. I drove straight to the building. Michael had already left, so I went straight to Maggi’s door. I knocked, and when she opened it, she said, “I want him out of the building!”
In what would become a pattern, I received a letter from attorney Holcomb shortly thereafter. It advised me that my “illegal subletting” of my studio was in violation of my lease, and that if Michael wasn’t out of my studio I would face eviction. He cleared out his things and left.
Around this time, the CSAW board started asking Maggi to see the books. She refused. A general meeting was held on November 25, 2007, and new officers were elected.
The next morning, a Monday, our new president, vice president and treasurer all went to our bank to obtain records and have Maggi removed from the account. They found that Maggi had gotten there first that morning and written a check to “cash” in the amount of $3,800. We soon discovered that this wasn’t her first big check written to cash. In fact, she had written one the previous Friday for $3,000 and many others, stretching back months.
A few days later, another letter from attorney Franklin Holcomb arrived. It informed us that the ousting of Maggi had “no legal effect whatsoever,” that CSAW the organization was defunct due to nonpayment of taxes, that “the family whose members own the building have no contractual relationship with the defunct corporation,” that they’d appointed Maggi their agent to collect rent and that heretofore we were to pay rent not to CSAW but to Commerce Street Artists Management Fund, LLC. This is the same Franklin Holcomb who had accepted as payment CSAW checks amounting to over $1600.
With what we’d learned at the bank and a letter telling us to change who we gave our money to, it had become clear, we thought, that she planned to push us all out. E-mails were flying among the tenants; some, not wanting to lose their studios, seemed to be considering writing a check to Maggi’s new baby: CSAMF. I had never been very proactive around CSAW. But I’d been there a while, and I felt like I knew the people there and they knew me. On November 28, in response to the e-mail chatter, I wrote to the group:
I think we should continue on the course decided on at our meeting. Maggi is using correspondence from her lawyer as a means to intimidate us. We might lose in court and we might lose our studios, but if we all fight and have to leave the building at least we go with a little dignity. Also, if we go as a group, the impact on Maggi and those who remain will be greater. People will be talking about this for a while after the chips fall. Even if we do lose in court, our peers in the community will be judging the actions of everyone involved. The community will know what Maggi has done, as well as what you and I did, or didn’t do, to stop her. I want people to know that I tried to do something in favor of CSAW. I would expect that’s true for most of you.I interviewed for a studio at CSAW in October of 2002. I was very excited when I learned that I had been voted in. I have seen a lot of great things come out of this building. I’ve also seen some low times. But I have never seen anyone set out so purposefully to disrupt and/or destroy the community that exists here. What is worse is that this is happening at a time when the quality of the people here is so high (higher by far than I’ve ever seen). I struggle to imagine what has motivated Maggi to attack this group of tenants, and all I can determine is that we questioned her when she departed from the procedures set forth in our bylaws. It was this move that preceded a chain of events that has brought us here. Consider this when you decide who to give your money to and where you want to make your art. I like it here, but there are other places I can make my work in this town.
In December, 13 CSAW artists wrote their rent checks to CSAW, not CSAMF. Those 13 artists received “Notices to Vacate” from attorney Holcomb shortly thereafter. The people who paid CSAMF are still in the building.
Now that we’re all out of the building, it’s much easier to talk about the kind of absurd drama that played out there. Imagine 13 artists, frantic to find new studios, rushing to pack up all their crap, in a building that had experienced a recent 180-degree political turn from what these artists agreed to when they joined CSAW. Some managed to see the humor despite the situation. I can still see Nick walking into my studio and referring to the mound of stuff being discarded in the performance area.
“Hey,” he said, “have you seen my new show back in the big space? It’s called ‘Shit Even Artists Don’t Want.’” Thanks, Nick.
A group of CSAW artists have decided to stick together and maintain an organization with a structure similar to that set forth in the original CSAW bylaws. They’ve already found a new building, and I hope they do well there. I ended up finding space in a nearby warehouse that’s hosting a collaboration between artists and architects. The guys who run the space busted ass to help me move, and that Sunday night, when I was completely spent and felt I could leave the rest to them, I gave them the keys and asked if they could finish up without me. We were close to being done, and they assured me it wouldn’t be a problem. These guys were doing me a huge favor. It was the presence of this group of guys that apparently worried Maggi so much that she felt like she needed to call the police to come to the building.
On the final day of moving out of a studio I’d worked in for over five years, in the final hour of that day, I had to stand on the steps of CSAW and answer to a police officer that Maggi Battalino called. I have no idea what she told him, but I’m pretty sure he was on her side when he approached me. I like to think that before he walked away though, he suspected that this woman had called him at eleven on a Sunday night simply to harass a guy who was trying his best to get out of the building.
That night, it wasn’t clear to everyone what time we needed to be out of our studios. Some were under the impression that our 30 days was up that Sunday, the 6th. We had received a letter just days before from Holcomb stating that we were to be out by the 7th. Some took this to mean we had Monday to move. To make clear exactly when we needed to be out, as Maggi walked past me to leave, I attempted to talk to her.
“Maggi?” I said. She walked right past me without even looking up. I left that night, and I haven’t been back.
Dale Stewart is an artist living in Houston.