by PATRICK LEJTENYI Photos by RACHEL GRANOFSKY

In one of the seedier parts of the city is a building that houses some of Montreal’s more creative types. For the past dozen or so years, the Grover building has been the home to a growing colony of artists, designers, architects, theatre troupes and the like, turning a former textile factory into an island of cultural vibrancy at the otherwise barren corner of Parthenais and Ontario.

But the clock may be ticking on the Grover’s survival as an artistic haven. Its owner, Marvyn Grover, wants to sell, and the likely buyer is Vito Papasodaro, who wants to turn the building—valued, its tenants say, at $6.8-million—into condominiums. The sale will become final in two months, if the necessary inspections and an all-important zoning change go through.

In the meantime, the roughly 300 tenants are trying to put down an offer of their own. Since they first learned about the sale through media reports in September 2004, they’ve been working like gangbusters to gather popular support and cash to buy the building and turn it into a co-op. Despite their best efforts to raise the money, says the Coalition sauvons l’usine coordinator Marie-Anne Marchand, “We didn’t get near what we’d hoped.”

But all is not lost. Ville-Marie borough mayor Benoît Labonté, who happens to be the city’s executive committee head of heritage and culture, is supporting the tenants, as are some financial institutions. With enough support, it’s hoped that some arrangement can be made that would preserve the factory as is.

Friendly synergy

It’s worth preserving, at least for those who work there. Most of the lofts have 16-foot-high ceilings, high windows with lots of natural light, hardwood floors and low rent—one artist the Mirror spoke to while touring the building last week said she pays just over $500 a month for an 800-square-foot space. There isn’t any place comparable in the city.

But another key aspect the Grover factory residents point to is the sense of community. They know each other, work with each other and sometimes buy each other’s wares. On the third floor, the three women working at the Kollontaï fashion design and production business send their clothes a few doors down to Sérigraphie Cinqunquatre. Pierre Daigle, a woodworker across the hall, says other tenants buy his crafts and help him pay the rent. Smiles, nods and friendly greetings in the hallways are commonplace.

“It’s very special here,” says France Rhéaume, a painter and 11-year Grover tenant who shares her room with fellow painters Suzanne Tanguay, Louis-George Vanier, René Gélinas and two dogs. “We all agree, we’ve never felt the kind of energy and exchange of ideas that we do here.”

And despite being below the hill east of Papineau, says Tanguay, there are few worries about safety. “Security is very important, and we can come and go from work safely at night,” she says.

“There is a synergy here,” says Daigle. “Everyone needs everyone else. It facilitates and inspires our work.”

If anything, the impending crisis has brought the tenants closer together, says artist and Coalition committee member Luc Bergeron, even if it cuts into the tenants’ time to do their own work. “I find an hour here to do this, an hour there to do that, sometimes it takes up an entire day,” he says. “And getting everyone together for meetings and building cohesion is work as well.”

Whores and artists

Of all the diverse tenants, there’s only one community group, and that’s sex-workers’ rights activists Stella. Claire Thiboutot, Stella’s director, says it doesn’t really matter where their offices are because “sex workers are everywhere. But it’s important they know where we are and how to find us.”

But their current digs, an 1,800-square-foot office, is roomy enough to comfortably house 15 employees and hold their medical clinics and meetings. She says she likes being around artists because she prefers to commission work in-house, so to speak, rather than having to go to an outside company. “And besides, I think it’s interesting to note that historically, whores and artists have always worked closely together.”

At city hall, meanwhile, Labonté says he’s working hard to keep the tenants in place. “There are not only cultural and economic benefits, but it’s also important in terms of urban revitalization,” he says. “Parts of that neighbourhood need to be pumped up more than a little bit, and that needs an important catalyst to trigger a lot of action. When you have to restart neighbourhoods, you’ll notice that artists are always there at the beginning—they create an atmosphere that’s very important.”

Last week, Labonté announced the creation of an emergency committee, which met for the first time on Tuesday, Feb. 7, to look into the options available depending on the outcome of the 60-day due diligence period between the offer and the final approval. He won’t speculate on the committee’s conclusions, preferring to let committee members work the answers out themselves.

But Coalition coordinator Marchand, herself a six-year Grover resident and sculptor when not working on building business full time, says, “We’ll continue, even if the building is sold. But I am concerned about the people here.”