Zoning Regulations Are Choking Philadelphia's Art Scene

Vashti DuBois (center), founder and executive director of Philadelphia’s Colored Girls Museum, along with Ian Friday (left), performance curator and associate director, and Michael Clemmons (right), curator. (Source: The Colored Girls Museum.)

Since it opened nearly a decade ago, Philadelphia’s Colored Girls Museum has routinely racked up regional and national praise. The museum and its founder, Vashti DuBois, have enjoyed prestigious grants, were featured in Essence Magazine, received a “nod from the Smithsonian National Archive,” and, a year ago, the homegrown institution was even named a Philadelphia Cultural Treasure. None of this mattered to the Zoning Board of Adjustments, who in November 2023 disputed the museum’s right to operate. 

The institution’s location was, in fact, its principal violation. The Colored Girls Museum operates out of DuBois’ 140-year-old, three-story home at 4613 Newhall Street in Philadelphia’s Germantown neighborhood. The city’s zoning code prohibits multiple uses of a residential home—though, even if DuBois didn’t live where she worked, her cultural treasure was in violation of yet another code. The law stipulates that cultural institutions must be detached structures. Her building, characteristic for the area and the city, is a twin Victorian home. In fact, dozens of Philadelphia galleries, music venues, and community spaces are situated in twin Victorians, rowhomes, and the many other attached structures that are a hallmark of the city’s built environment and the pride of its postcards. For many, learning that this was in violation of the city’s code was a shock.

As DuBois’ hearing approached, nearly a hundred neighbors wrote letters in support of the museum’s continued operation. Dozens more who have never heard of the museum before voiced their support online and some even attended the hearing remotely. DuBois was hopeful she’d be granted a variance; the prospect of losing the battle meant losing the museum for good. For her, it couldn’t exist anywhere else.

“The Colored Girls Museum can’t exist in another place because she [the museum] was born here,” DuBois told the Philadelphia Inquirer. “What nurtured and activated her is what happened in this community. If you evict us from 4613, it’s no longer the Colored Girls Museum.”

After a tense few hours, DuBois was granted a variance. The Colored Girls Museum will continue being an artistic refuge in Germantown. 

Yet, the code that got DuBois in trouble in the first place remains unchanged and zoning continues to haunt the city’s art scene. A few months before the museum’s fate was up for debate, Philadelphians mourned the demolition of the Painted Bride mural, a celebrated mosaic by Isaiah Zagar, located in Old City.

When the group that maintained the Painted Bride space could no longer afford to do so, they tried to sell the building, disquieting the mural’s admirers. Many feared that in the hands of a developer, the mural was sure to disappear and in its place, dozens of apartments would rise. A Philadelphia judge even blocked the nonprofit from selling the structure, calling the building’s facade “priceless.” 

Sure enough, apartments were on architect and developer Shimi Zakin’s mind, but after public outcry, he concluded destroying a hallmark of Philadelphia street art wasn’t. Zakin submitted a design wherein a seven-story apartment building would hover above the mural, effectively preserving it. Preservationists and housing advocates rejoiced. More importantly, the judge granted the sale and the Zoning Board of Adjustments approved a variance. For a minute, it appeared that the nearly seven-year battle had found as amicable a resolution as anyone could expect.

That was, until a neighborhood group opposed to Zakin's design brought the Painted Bride back into court. In Philadelphia, registered community organizations (RCOs) wield power over zoning variances, and can appeal them, according to Billy Penn. The RCO wanted the mural to remain, but they weren’t looking forward to apartments, especially at the height Zakin proposed. The height exceeded Old City’s limit by 20 feet.

Rendering of Zakin’s original proposal, which would preserve the mural. (Source: Atrium Design Group.)

Rendering of the current proposal, which adheres to height restrictions at the expense of preserving the mural. (Source: Atrium Design Group.)

Ironically, in their battle to preserve the facade—something guaranteed under Zakin’s design—the RCO issued its death sentence. Zakin claimed redeveloping the site would not be financially feasible without the added height. As a result, he’s forced to demolish the mural, an action he called “heartbreaking.” The current renderings for the site feature a shorter building, one in consonance with the standards of 17 vocal Old City residents, yet one without the prized art piece thousands of others were desperate to save.



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