The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1921-11-02
TOPEKA STATE JOURNAL
Information Bureau
FREDERIC j. HAsKIN, Directors.
Washington, D. G.
BoHENnA,s MOVING Day.

1
love the Village less. but because they
can no longer afford it. Before the
| invasion of the returning wealthy
| bourgeoisie, who once more choose to
reside in the vicinity of Washington
Square, the artist must retreat-but
where?
I This is what they themselves ask
you, with rather a desperate air.
Where, indeed, can they find an in
/ expensive, down-at-the-heels neigh
borhood into which they can infuse
| their own careless and artistic atmos-
| phere without attracting a pursuing
mob of rich, would-be Bohemians2
For, like Mrs. Vanderbilt, the artists
| of Manhattan suffer from too-great
popularity. AS soon as they move into
locality, get their easels and smocks
unpacked, let their boards grow, put
antique brass knockers on their front
doors and pink borders around their
windows. Wall street brokers follow
suit, and rents rise.
The rich grew weary and deserted
/ Greenwich Village more than half a
| century ago. Their great estates gave
place to rows of Victorian dwell
| ings, owned and occupied by respee-
| table merchant families. When the
| elevated trains started coming down
Sixth avenue as far as Blocker street,
with business in their wake. the ner-
! chant families moved on. Clerks and
! small retailers took over their houses
until in time the immigrants came and
, crowded them out. The Heighbor-
hood had set in for a period of rapid
decay. such as that which destroyed
tho once lovely Third avenue, and
property owners of the district had
resigned themselves to great pecu-
MARY loss, when suddenly New York
artists discovered the possibilities OF
Washington Square.
They entered and took possession OF
the district, ousting the immigrants,
remodeling the old-fashioned houses
and stables, lending a picturesque en-
chantment to dingy garrets and base
ments, and encouraging the establish
ment of cafes and boarding houses
catering to artistic taste. For several
years Greenwich Village really con-
tanned an art colony of genuine dis
tinction Then it became famous.
ter of America, and as such it began
to hold enormous attraction for the
curious.
Many astute persons wins had set
tied in the neighborhood to study art
now decided that it would be much
more profitable to open restaurants
and so-called art shops Others went
quietly about buying leases. Some of
these were uptown real estate brok- ;
ers, who laid their plans with deep
saSacity. They kept rents very low to
attract the artists, who unsuspectingly
set to work remodeling and decorating
the dilapidated homes they had
leased. Then, at the end of year.
the landlords rented the premises at
greatly increased prices to uptown
business men.
Atmosphere Expensive.
Under this SYSTEM which has en-
riohed so many landlords during the
past five years. TRUE art could not sur
ViVe. Only rich and successful artists
can now a ffOrd n live the Villa 90
which has become one of the highest !
priced sections in the city. Try hunt !
ing an apartment there and you will
soon find out for yourself. Not q sin |
gle basement or garrett however mean |
and lnartistic, is to be had for less
than $75 a month. Ten years ago, !
when the village was at the height of
its artistic glory, the best floor in
washington Square South could be |
rented for $40 month, while a room |
overlooking the park cost IS. Today, |
a room without a private bath (and
also usually without steam heat or
electricity rents for $40 a month, and !
"a whole floor (twe roms) will cost
you $3.50.
The picturesque little stables in
Washington News, which once rented
for $50 and $40 a month, now bring
$4,000 year, in addition to the cost
of necessary repairs, which must be
made by the tenant. A well known
$4,000 four years ago. He succeed it, J
installed new plumbing, built a new
fireplace and made other costly |
repairs, with the result that the fol-
lowing year his rent was raised to
$4,000. He paid the increase, and
the following year his landlord at
tempted to collect $4,000 for the place.
Now that the influx of business peo-
pie from uptown shows signs Of being
permanent, however, the landlords
k.raT 10
Instead, they actually call attention to
dinginess as a mark of atmosphere. |
yes, it is a trifle dark" a real estate
agent will say to a Broad Street
broker, who is looking at an apart
ment but very quaint don't you
think? No hidious electric bulbs or
steam radiators or other modern atroc-
tiles. You will find a gas heater
quite warm, and it throws such de-
lightful shadows on the wall. The
have it done if you like, but this mel
low shade of white is admired down
here. Perhaps you also dislike the
wallpaper; some people of course, do
not care for such an intricate de-
sign"
"On the contrary, It was the wall
paper that attracted me-" says the
broker, anxious to show that he knows
something about art. THAT, and the
fireplace. I grew quite accustomed to
fireplaces in England. How much is
the rent-$150? Well, wrap 1t up and
I'll take it along
Some of the real estate agents,
being art students on the side, are eX-
pert creators of atmosphere. They
find artistic merits in every glaring
defect and so dazzle the prospective
tenant by descriptions of Bohemian
life in the village that he is willing to
sacrifice all comfort in order to live
within the charmed circle. No, this
room does not get the sun" the agent
will explain with patient patronage,
but the marvellous reflection of the
sun so necessary to artists" (He
looks around hurriedly searching for
some good points to play up, but sees
nothing but rusty fixtures, cobwebs
and dirt Nevertheless, his kind,
patronizing manner does not desert
him. The charm of this particular
ntarr