Twenty-five years ago, in a derelict library in Providence’s Olneyville neighborhood, a group of women came together to found a feminist art collective / feminist artist-run space that they came to call Dirt Palace. This weekend, they’re celebrating how it has survived to become one of the inspiring, mysterious, magical underground landmarks of the region’s art scene. For the occasion, I made a photographic tour of the place.
“The Dirt Palace began as a self organized collective,” they write on their website, “that supported feminists artists by providing affordable studio space, facilities, shared resources, opportunities, a culture of cooperation, and by maintaining visibility in the community through a committed public arts presence and long term relationships.”
“It was an experiment in being a separatist space,” explains Pippi Zornoza, a co-founder and now co-director, with Xander Marro, of Dirt Palace Projects, the nonprofit that owns and manages Dirt Palace as well as their second facility, the Wedding Cake House, a bed and breakfast that also hosts artist residencies. “Our concept of gender is much more expansive now. But at the time, it started as an experiment of what would happen if women artists lived and worked alongside each other. What would come out of that organically?”
Dirt Palace is celebrating their 25th anniversary with a fund-raiser brunch, “Dirt Palace Pancake Breakfast style,” on the lawn of the Wedding Cake House at 514 Broadway, Providence, on Sunday, Aug. 24, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Suggested donation $25, “but if you donate to our library come for free” (see details on their website).
After the library shut down, the building at 14 Olneyville Square had housed jewelry manufacturing and a church, but when the Dirt Palace launched in 2000, the structure had been empty for some time. Windows were boarded up. The roof leaked. “Over the course of many years we self-performed most carpentry and routine repair work including replacing floors, adding bathrooms, subdividing space and building walls,” the Dirt Palace website explains. “We managed subcontractors to replace the roof, windows, install a fire alarm system and paint the exterior.” They created a band room/rehearsal room, printshop, woodshop, animation studio, library, and storefront windows gallery.
What came out of their experiment is the creativity of 65 artists who have lived at Dirt Palace since its founding. “It’s an artists live-work space. We work on the first floor and living on the second floor,” resident Naffisatou Koulibaly says.
Dirt Palace has hosted live music, movie screenings, Spanish classes, puppetry, brunches, the Olneyville County Fair, and lots of other shenanigans. “As a resident, I like that I can make whatever big sounds and do whatever dances I feel inclined to do and nobody minds,” Natalie Robertson says.
Ziggy Smith, who moved in two months ago, describes Dirt Palace as “One of those ‘I Spy’ books where you find all these things in the nooks and crannies. I feel like Im finding stuff every day. This treasure chest of all these artists in all different generations.”
Providence’s fecund underground scene in the late 1990s and early 2000s could feel very … boy. “We came up in that scene and that was very beloved to us and it was us trying to carve out our own space,” Zornoza says of Dirt Palace’s origins.
“Now we identify as a feminist space, not a women’s space,” Zarnoza says. “Now we’re asking if you’re interested in feminism and we’re self-selecting in that.”
Ses Houghton describes Dirt Palace as “a band of scary ladies who make art and are now letting people who aren’t ladies make art in their spaces and opening up opportunities.”
While many other Providence underground spaces have been demolished, shut down or disappeared, Dirt Palace has persisted—in part because they own the building. It was only in 2015 that the building “received a certificate of occupancy as a legal live/work space,” their website says.
How did they come up with the name Dirt Palace? Most of the current artist residents have no idea. “Maybe it’s a play on sand castle?” Ses Houghton ventured.
“We probably made 30 to 50 pages of lists of names,” Zornoza recalls. “And it was the only one that someone in the group wasn’t ‘Over my dead body.’” Zornoza admits she had several suggested names that she’s glad they didn’t pick because they would be mortifying to her now. The name Dirt Palace also, she notes, “has connotations: Making something good out of modest means.”
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