Is it fair to use housing subsidies to build live-work spaces for artists?

My working-poor friend couldn’t get into the Projects, so she’s rented this house instead.

One of my friends was homeless this past Christmas. She was on a waiting list for an apartment in the Projects. Evidently openings are scarce in her hometown of Braddock PA, where 2/3s of the residents are African-American and the median household income is $18,473. She ended up renting part of a house instead.

While most public housing is intended for people like my friend, there’s a subset of units being built in historic neighborhoods as mixed-use spaces for artists. In 2016, the Institute on Metropolitan Opportunity (IMO) examined four such projects. They noted:
“They are often visually spectacular, offering superior amenities – underground parking, yoga and exercise studios, rooftop clubrooms – and soaring architecture. Very often, these white-segregated subsidized projects are created by converting historic buildings into housing, with the help of federal low-income housing tax credits, historic tax credits, and other sources of public funding. Frequently, these places are designated artist housing, and – using a special exemption obtained from Congress by Minnesota developers in 2008 – screen applicants on the basis of their artistic portfolio or commitment to an artistic craft.”
Although such units are built with public funding, they’re far too expensive for my friend Helen. In fact, they end up furthering segregation. White artists’ income may be low compared to their social peers, but are high compared to wages for the black working poor.
The foyer of the A-Mill Artist Lofts, a publicly-subsidized live-work space in Minneapolis. From their own website.
“Unlike typical subsidized housing, however, the residents of these buildings are primarily white – in many instances, at a higher percentage than even the surrounding neighborhood. These buildings thus reinforce white residential enclaves within the urban landscape, and intensify segregation even further,” IMO reported.
These units are not being occupied by impoverished millennials coming up with the next Great Idea. This study found that most of the artists inhabiting subsidized live-work housing were middle-aged. This surveyechoed that. In other words, these artists should be in their prime earning years.
We can’t even count on these units continuing to be live-work spaces. “There is a demonstrated tendency for live-work space to revert to purely residential use, regardless of how it was permitted or represented,” wrotearchitect Thomas Dolan.
The gym at the A-Mill Artist Lofts, a publicly-subsidized live-work space in Minneapolis. From their own website.
Who really benefits from these schemes? Developers, of course. “Look at every opportunity to finance projects by evaluating their eligibility for tax credit financing through the New Markets Tax Credit (NMTC) and Low-Income Housing Tax Credit (LIHTC) Programs, which are designed to support investment in communities and meet the housing needs of residents,” advises accounting firm Baker Tilly. In 2014, almost a quarter of all apartment new-builds were being done with Low Income Housing Credits.
My friend lived in a motel on Route 30 outside Braddock while she was homeless. One room, three people, but at least she had heat and a bed. 
Cities, too, are desperate for some way to repurpose their abandoned industrial real estate. We all know the stories of how development followed artists into Soho or the Village and drove property prices sky-high. But that was in land-locked Manhattan, where anything habitable is worth millions. Whether that same phenomenon will play in Peoria, or Buffalo, or Milwaukee, remains to be seen. Meanwhile, billions of dollars in subsidies are being redirected away from people like my friend. 
Want to learn more? See here and here.

Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?

Chelsea Workhouse: A Bible Reading (Our Poor), by James Charles, 1877.
All Rochester has been talking about the city bulldozing a tent city occupied by the homeless right before Christmas. We’re at the Sturm und Drang phase of the political theater; close on its heels will be the farce. In the spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge, let’s revisit the history of the workhouse.

Charity, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, engraving
The first recorded almshouse in Britain was founded around 900 AD by Æthelstan; there is an almshouse from the 12th century still functioning in Winchester. Some almshouses were attached to monasteries; others were independent. Monks, nuns and their lay helpers cared for lepers, the poor, pilgrims, or the sick; the terms “hospital” or “hôtel-Dieu” were also used, because the work of almsgiving and medicine overlapped.
HĂ´tel-Dieu de Paris, circa 1500. 
After the population of Europe was laid waste by the Black Death, laborers (in one of the few examples in history) found themselves in great demand. In 1388, the Statute of Cambridge introduced regulations restricting their movements, which effectively restricted their wages. This legislation also made county government responsible for the poor. Ultimately this would be refined to include a formal tax for poor relief and a system of oversight by each (church) parish vestry.
Collecting the Offering in a Scottish Kirk, John Phillip
The problem of the poor was exacerbated by Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries. The religious had not only provided charity, they had provided employment. A few years later, The Poor Relief Act of 1576 established that the principle that if the able-bodied poor needed support, they had to work for it. This would remain the theme of public assistance right up to the 20th century, with harsh penalties for idleness.
Poor Blind East End London Stepney Workhouse, 1890, print, artist unknown
The beginning of the 19th century was a lousy time to be poor. Mass unemployment followed the end of the Napoleonic Wars. This combined with a series of terrible harvests and the industrialization of rural employment to swamp the parish-by-parish relief system. The New Poor Law of 1834 required that the indigent enter poorhouses to get help. The tenor of the time meant that some administrators were gung-ho to make a profit on the unpaid labor of the people they were supposed to be helping. The work was backbreaking—crushing stones or “picking oakum,” which meant unraveling old ropes so that the fibers could be reused for caulking timbers in boats. In 1862, girls under 16 at Tothill Fields Bridewell had to pick 1 pound of oakum a day, and boys under 16 had to pick 1½ pounds. Over the age of 16, girls and boys had to pick 1½ and 2 pounds respectively.
Some Poor People, Henry Herbert La Thangue
In America, the workhouse often took the form of a poor farm, which might be in the same complex as a prison farm. These were municipally run, and, like the workhouses, operated until the Social Security Act of 1935 provided basic support for the elderly.
An Almshouse Man in a Top Hat, Vincent Van Gogh, 1882
The “tramp” or “hobo” has existed since antiquity (in the form of the “wandering beggar”). They became more common with the Industrial Revolution, with its ill-paying, marginalized casual labor and endemic housing shortages. In the United States, trainhopping became a viable means of transportation after the Civil War, used by hobos. These migratory homeless men developed their own culture, signs, and language. The tramp or hobo was homeless, but he was very much a working man, in contrast to the “bum,” who stayed in one place and was generally not motivated to work.
Hobo and Dog, Norman Rockwell, 1924

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!