Downtown confidential

The Safari Lounge wins a surprise reprieve

by Ian Donnis

It was a pretty typical scene Monday night at the Safari Lounge. Downtown denizens sipped beer at the bar, clusters of indie rock types chatted around tables, and a mix of soul and Social Distortion tunes spun from the jukebox. And even though he was facing the imminent loss of his livelihood after 12 years of running the Safari, Jimmy Ilarraza's sense of humor remained undiminished. "There's no market for me. Maybe I'll go to Traveler's Aid," the 59-year-old bar owner quipped, and he laughed a hearty laugh.

Ilarraza was prepared for the worst, but he was smiling again the next morning when a decision in Providence District Court gave the Safari a fresh lease on life, at least for now. As interpreted by lawyer John W. Dineen, who came to Ilarraza's defense on a pro bono basis, Cathy Ilarraza -- Jimmy's wife -- can continue to operate the bar for at least another 11 months since she wasn't named in a judgment and eviction order against her husband.

It was a quirky, improbable win for a couple who aren't versed in legal machinations, and Robert Fine, the lawyer for their landlord, Stanley Weiss (who does business as 159 Weybosset Associates), disagrees with Dineen's interpretation. Fine indicated that Weiss is not about to give up his effort to evict the Safari, and he says the Ilarrazas have no one to blame but themselves. "Our position is that we had an agreement on rent, they breached for nonpayment, and we entered two subsequent agreements, giving them more time to pay or get out, and they breached the two subsequent agreements," Fine says. "This anti-renaissance idea is just not correct."

But Dineen blamed the landlord-tenant standoff on a combination of confusing letters sent by Weiss and garbled talks between the landlord and the Ilarrazas. "Their position is that they have always been ready and able to pay the rent," Dineen says. "I think there was a lot of miscommunication back and forth in December, but I think that's easy enough to take care of now and to get things on an even keel."

Ilarraza, a native of Puerto Rico who came to Rhode Island in the '60s after living in the Bronx and Bridgeport, Connecticut, bought the Safari in 1988 and converted it from a veritable blood-and-bucket into an unpretentious dive that frequently hosts shows by local bands. Located on an alley-like stretch of Eddy Street, off Weybosset Street in Providence's old retail core, the bar is beloved because of its friendly character and utter lack of artifice. Such affection is attached to the Safari, in fact, that Providence Artists United, an ad hoc coalition of supporters that quickly gathered 300 signatures on a petition, bought a full-page ad in the Providence Journal of January 27.

As an incubator for the arts, the ad said, "the Safari Lounge is a rare and almost miraculous embodiment of the publicly stated goals of the so-called `Renaissance' of downtown Providence. We can't help but see the fate of the Safari as a test of these goals. Is the Renaissance really giving an opportunity to artists . . . Or is it wiping away businesses that grew up independently . . . to replace them with a planned economy that may not even be viable?"

Deputy City Solicitor Patricia A. McLaughlin, a leading point person on Downcity revitalization for Mayor Vincent A. "Buddy" Cianci, was somewhat stung by the ad's message. Noting that Safari matter is a landlord-tenant conflict, McLaughlin said, "I'm not so sure where the city's issue is right now." In fairness, the Cianci administration is acknowledged to be a strong supporter of artists and Downcity's evolution as an inclusive arts and entertainment district.

And in a positive development, McLaughlin and John Palmieri, the city's director of planning and development, plan to meet with members of Providence Artists United in the next two weeks. "If their concern is that they want to make sure artists are protected [that's] a very viable concern," McLaughlin says. "We have so many good things about to happen in the Downcity. That's why, if we have groups with concerns or perhaps perceived concerns, it's important that we meet to discuss it with them."

Umberto Crenca, artistic director of AS220, the nonprofit alternative arts space on Empire Street, is no stranger to building an arts organization from the the city and a new crop of emerging artists as an important development. "The way I look at it, this group of people could have been us 14 years ago," he says, when AS220 was struggling to get started.

And although Providence Artists United was galvanized by the Safari situation, "we're not going to sink of swim based on the Safari," says Matt Obert, a group member who is AS220's volunteer coordinator (Providence Artists United, which is open to all, has established a presence on the Web at www.as220.org/~volunteer/safari).

Downcity's evolution, which has proceeded in fits and starts since the relatively recent time when Empire Street was still a de facto red light district, will also benefit from the development of 37 apartments, including eight affordable units, in the vacant Alice Building, on Union Street. Rhode Island Housing and Mortgage Finance Corporation, a quasi-public agency, recently announced plans to help finance the $8.4 million project. Construction, which hinges on a tax agreement with the city, is expected to begin later this year.

Creating downtown housing remains costly, and it's even more challenging to create artist-organized efforts like AS220. But the Alice Building will build on the success of the Smith Building, which demonstrated the willingness of people to live downtown. Private development of downtown housing and increased attention from the city are likely to follow. The possibility of a Sundance cinema being sited at the location of Traveler's Aid is also being discussed after previous efforts came up empty a few years ago. Some gentrification may be an inevitable long-term result of all this but, as Crenca says, referring to the multitude of vacant downtown buildings, "I don't think it qualifies as gentrification if nobody's there."

Back at the Safari, Ilarraza recalled some of the ups and downs he's weathered, from being arrested on his first day in Providence (because, he says, he was an unfamiliar Hispanic) to the scorn that observers attach from afar to his clientele, calling them "50-cent drafters" and worse. But after buying the Safari when it was "a jungle" and making into a comfortable home for a diverse cast of characters, Ilarraza remains dedicated to even his most difficult customers. "I was young punk at some point myself," he recalls in accented English. "I was a little bit crazy. I do feel responsible. I know where they're coming from; I'm just like them, I just happen to be a little luckier."