Places that Matter
A Gathering of the Tribes
Iconic East Village gallery and performance space
Place Matters Profile
Steve Cannon, Founder and Executive Director of A Gathering of the Tribes, has been called many things; mentor, pioneer, icon and prophet are a few of the more common appellations. He is known as a poet, a novelist and a playwright, and also as a long-time fixture at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, where he was variously deemed “the Professor” and demonized as “the Heckler.” At the very least, Cannon is a local legend, and A Gathering of the Tribes (aka Tribes), his Lower East Side gallery and performance space, is an institution. For twenty-one years, Cannon and the Tribes gallery have been located on the second floor of 285 East Third Street. The modestly sized apartment is Cannon’s residence, his office, and an incubator for visual and performing artists from every corner of the world. As of 2012, these functions are indistinguishable; the man is the space is the art is the man.
Tribes, a handle
that includes an arts organization, a gallery and a literary magazine,
has inspired generations of artists, activists and intellectuals of
every stripe. Indeed, Cannon’s inclusive, open door policy is often
referenced in Tribes-related press. The organization’s expansive circle
includes family, friends and fanatics who come to push the boundaries of
international arts dialogue. Of course, it hasn’t always been easy. In
addition to standard disappointments like debt and betrayal, 285 East
Third Street nearly burned down in 1990, and Cannon was later blinded by
glaucoma.
But good ideas,
grant writing and fundraising went a long way, and genuinely great
vibes, art and conversation have taken Tribes the necessary extra mile.
Indeed, in 2007 the New York Times
wrote, “[A Gathering of the Tribes] survives on a combination of
personal energy, karmatic chance and the economic kindness of
strangers.” As of 2012, the gallery and magazine are as popular as ever,
and Cannon, at age 76, has more verve than people half his age.
Steve Cannon has
had a long, complicated and intentional love affair with the Lower East
Side and the building that houses him and his gallery. Born in
segregated New Orleans and raised on Southern writers like Edgar Allen
Poe and William Faulkner, Cannon moved to Great Britain in the early
1960s so that he could be part of a more integrated,
intellectually-rigorous community. While studying World History and
Henry Miller among the London literati, Cannon rubbed elbows with
established writers from the BBC, the London Times
and “the Oxford fiction set.” But it was their trailing blazing
tribesmen - the poets - who really knocked his socks off. So off he
went, in 1962, to the Lower East Side, to be part of “anything that had
anything to do with the arts.” He was soon reading the most contemporary
French theorists, listening to the Beats, and participating in local
literary scenes, including Umbra, a collective of African American
writers based in the Lower East Side. In 1970, by then a well-connected
and well-respected author, he purchase 285 East Third Street with the
royalties from his best-selling novel, Groove, Jive and Bang Around.
The three-story, Federal style house cost him $35,000, but he was tired
of the nomadic life of the house-sitter. Plus, he says, "I got a good
feel about the place." That instinct seems to have served him well.
Cannon taught
Humanities at New York City colleges for twenty-five years. He says that
the broad rubric of “Humanities” suited him perfectly, as he was able
to offer classes in “anything that had anything to do
with the arts,” a phrase that has become something of a mantra for
Cannon. His academic offerings included literature, expository writing,
art history, and courses in art, music and performance theory. Cannon
claims that combining his mantra and his collective college curricula
ultimately resulted in A Gathering of the Tribes.
A college
professor by day, at night Cannon was a professional heckler of any
reader at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe whom he deemed unworthy. Apparently
there were many. To rectify the problem, Cannon and fellow Lower East
Side poet Bob Holman established the Stoop Poetry Workshop in 1990. It
was conceived on Cannon’s front steps and soon operated out of his
building. Cannon recalls a tremendous collection of poets who
participated in the Workshop, including Edwin Torres, Tracie Morris,
Dana Bryant, Mia Hansford, Reg E. Gaines, and Keith Roach. By then
Cannon had also decided that it was time to start a literary magazine to
highlight poets coming out of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and the
Workshop. But in 1990, glaucoma claimed much of his sight, while arson
destroyed much of his house. Cannon lost years’ worth of work in the
fire, and soon after the disaster a co-owner fled with the insurance
money.
Cannon persisted
with support from the surrounding community. He slowly rebuilt with one
loan from the Faculty Credit Union, one against his retirement, and
elbow grease from five friends with specialized construction skills. In
1991 Cannon incorporated A Gathering of the Tribes, a multicultural arts
organization named for the poet Caroline Fourche, who, Cannon says,
“went down to El Salvador during the Guerrilla War and wrote a series of
poems called 'Gathering of the Tribes.' I wanted a name that would
cover the diversity of this neighborhood, that's why I settled on that
title.” Later that year he and local poet Gail Shilke published the
first issue of A Gathering of the Tribes magazine out of the remains of
Cannon's home. Shilke, many years his junior, supplied the emerging
talent, while Cannon promoted them by headlining well-known writers like
Amiri Baraka, Ed Sanders and Allen Ginsberg. Highly successful and
visually stunning, Tribes is an annual publication with a global readership. Its fourteenth issue will be released in 2012.
Shortly after he
established the magazine, Cannon’s friends and neighbors convinced him
to open an art gallery on the second floor of his building. Cannon
initially scoffed at the idea, claiming that the three-room apartment
could hardly accommodate photography exhibits, no less three-dimensional
installations. After a cautious but successful start, colleague Dora
Espinoza convinced him to show sculpture, painting and film, as well as
photography. He also hosted poetry readings that filled to overflowing
on the rear balcony. Ultimately, Tribes promoted cultural and media
crosspollination such that it was hard to tell what was performance,
what was art and what, if anything, was left over. Tribes became a
magnet drawing a cross-section of artists from around the neighborhood
and beyond. The gathered talked about poetry and politics, both local
and global. Commentators frequently lauded Tribes’ contribution to a
broadened cultural discourse, but a 1995 Village Voice
article by Sara Ferguson immortalized Cannon and his involvement in the
burgeoning spoke word poetry scene, and turned Tribes' space into a
local landmark.
However, the
building isn’t a protected City landmarked, and more critically, neither
is the life inside. Cannon sold the building six years ago with the
understanding that he and the Tribes gallery could remain in place. The
landlord has challenged this assumption. Although she and Cannon are
locked in a legal battle over Tribes’ tenancy, the gallery’s programming
is going strong, and Cannon says they have shows lined up through the
end of the year.
As of January
2012, the space is activated by deliberately distributed art and
lighting. The three railroaded rooms serve as salon, library, and lounge
and reception area. The office, an auxiliary space claimed from the
main salon, is relatively tidy for a small art center as generative as
Tribes. The back balcony overlooks a neat courtyard that serves as a
seasonal stage. Despite the eviction turmoil, Cannon remains optimistic
about using the yard again next summer. 285 East Third Street was for
sale as of March 2011, but Cannon says that it was recently removed from
the market; legal proceedings have delayed Tribes’ displacement.
Volunteers and friends come by on a regular basis to have a sit and a
smoke, and to chat. From their relaxed conversation it seems that many,
including Cannon, believe that he may have the last word. The relative
merits of that word being printed or spoken are still up for discussion.
From http://www.placematters.net/node/1789







