Providence, Rhode Island
Read about the largest city in America's smallest state, home to much more than just Jesus-Dylan Sunday sermons, hot wieners, and too many Dunkin Donuts.
By Daphne Carr
Published: February 16th, 2004 | 12:49pm
If you find yourself cruising I-95 North, headed away from the snow-bird trail of continuous Cracker Barrels, you will pass through the minor metropolis of Providence, Rhode Island. A blip on the way to Boston, a pit stop on the southerly trip toward New York? For those of pure heart and Prov pride, such commuter-tinged sentiments are a minor heresy. So here I am to tell you how I made Providence home, and why it's worth your trip to town.
Providence is equal parts post-industrial grime and New England spit shine. As a town founded by dilettante Protestant Roger Williams, it is abound with charming, old churches giving Sunday sermons like "Jesus and Bob Dylan: History's rebels." Many of these sit along Benefit Street, a charming if yuppified walk with colonial-era townhouses.
The Benefit: Also along Benefit is Checkers Pizza (167 Benefit Street), which offers good slices and a chance to play the flayed guts of a baby grand. The shop caters to Rhode Island School of Design students, who transform the neat stone brass-accented area into the requisite art-school runway. From this side of the hill you can spy the city's fledgling skyline, now dominated with a mall so large that it makes its neighbor, the state capitol building, look like a pathetic toy.
Some like it hot: On the absolutely local tip is one of Providence's two top culinary traditions: hot wieners. Now ladies, I know that a giant neon sign proclaiming "Eat Hot Wieners" is an almost irresistible photo op, but be warned that any place selling such wonders has little care for the vegan mojo. The New York System (424 Smith Street, 401.331.5349), seems most popular, but a five-minute drive on the west side of town will reveal all sorts of steamed wiener upstarts.
The other tradition: Donuts. In particular, the Dunkin kind, to the tune of 33 franchises for a population of 170,000. So, my friend, when getting lost in the city, which is easy to do, DO NOT LET ANYONE GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS THAT INCLUDE TURNING AT A DUNKIN' DONUTS. Seriously. I once spent two hours bouncing between DDs to find a bowling alley in the 'burbs. It's part of the New England constitution to straightface those directions too, so call 'em on it.
The music: One good way to get lost is to try to get to the West Side from the East Side (thanks to the mall, built about 300 years after everything else in town), but there lies a Venus gals' greatest finds by way of Prov counterculture. The famed loft scene that gave rise to Arab on Radar, Lightning Bolt, and members of Black Dice sits in Olneyville, a back lot of dirty brick warehouses that house collectives such as the Pink Rabbit, The Bakery, The Sickle, The Civic Center, the Hilarious Attic, The Dirt Palace, and The Hive Archive.
More about the music: The best way to find out about shows, workshops, and other events taking place at these lofts is to check the bulletin board at the White Electric Coffee Shop (150 Broadway, 401-453-3007), an art gallery and café that shows local artists' work and makes (what else) delicious doughnuts. You also can pick up fliers and chat with Ben or Amy Barnett at the Armageddon Shop (436 Broadway, 401-521-6667), the Providence-centric record shop with loads of limited-edition project tapes, vinyl, and other rare merch. You get 10% off if you ride a bike there, and if you happen to a show in Olneyville you'll see that many, many kids get that 10% every time. You also can check out lotsofnoise.com for info about upcoming shows plus news, reviews, and MP3s of your fave Providence bands. Right now, mine is Mahi Mahi, an ultra-talented and slightly deranged industrial project whose onstage police lights and all-white gear are like the alt.soundtrack to Fahrenheit 451.
And the music: Good bands, local and touring, also make their way to AS220, a downtown live-work space with galleries, performance spaces, and a café that serve the community through a variety of lecture series, workshops, and film screenings. Downtown is also home to the Rhode Island Philharmonic, which has a surprisingly large repertoire of 20th century material, if strings are your thing. Watch out for this area in the evening as it changes into a virtual open-air meat market, and last call (a sad 12:30 a.m. on weeknights, 2 a.m. on ends) is rife with crazy traffic, fights, and pissed cops looking for a reason. If nothing else, think of this as the dialectic of Providence youth: meatheads and art-school kids.
Speaking of school, I must mention that I'm a grad student at Brown University, the other college-hill school. I spend a lot of time on Thayer Street, the archetypal parasite of head shops, cheap ethnic eats, and bad record stores that clings to every campus. Sarita Chiquita is my only sartorial salvation on the street, with the lovely Sarah (and soon to be born, baby Stella) importing affordable boho chic. The retro-marqueed Avon Theater is my other go-to, offering classic films for a little too much money ($8), but giving back $2 bills as a novel consolation prize.
Which brings me to my home. I live amid the towering Victorians of the gilded age, and with my lovely roommate Arden, who works at the fem-positive sex shop Miko (653 North Main Street, 401.421.6646). While the pace of Providence is much slower than that of neighboring towns, and the area steeped in weird local politics, snacks (beware coffee milk!), and gossip, it’s a great place to hanker down and make some things, flesh out the plan and get feedback from a thriving community. It's not a town for the rock-star lifestyle, that's for sure, but if H.P. Lovecraft liked it, it's good enough for me. --Photos by Daphne Carr
Issue #35
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