WALL STREET JOURNAL / METROPOLIS BLOG
A Rent Party Revival During Hard Times
BY Maya Pope-Chappell


A vase half full of money rested on a cluttered table inside Susan Kramer's apartment, like a tip jar at a café. But instead of patrons chipping in for counter service, house guests tossed in money to help cover the rent.

Kramer, 43, is a tenant in a high-rise Mitchell-Lama building called Village East Towers on the Lower East Side, where she has lived since childhood. But recently, like many New Yorkers dealing with a sluggish economy, she has fallen on hard times. To help cover the monthly cost of keeping her home, the jazz singer has been hosting regular rent parties.

"I started the rent parties as a way to make money and bring awareness to landlord-tenant issues," said Kramer,  who has hosted rent parties for about a year. Her purpose, beyond making the rent during hard times, is "to keep music and art in my life, and keep with the jazz tradition on the Lower East Side," she explained.

The December party featured spoken-word performances by the Buffalo Poets, home-cooked food, beer and live music. Guests were encouraged to bring their own poetry or musical instrument, as well as a suggested donation of $5.

Kramer, a jazz musician and substitute teacher, faced eviction last year when she couldn't pay the $807 rent, according to her case manager, Otoniel Navarrete, who works with University Settlement. The social service agency advised Kramer during court proceedings and helped her secure grants and loans to pay the rent.

A year ago she was approved for a Section 8 subsidy, which enables tenants to pay below market rents based on their income. Kramer says with the subsidy, her rent is around $200 a month.

Historically, rent parties were associated with the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s, a time when tens of thousands of African American newcomers migrated to the city from the South. The parties aimed to help city dwellers cover inflated housing prices. Frank Byrd, writing for the Work Projects Administration in 1938, observed that party hosts in Harlem would dim the lights and roll back the living room carpet to clear space for the musicians.

Like past rent parties, Kramer's modern day incarnation kept the free-form spirit of organized chaos. Poets would jump in and recite lines from crumpled stacks of paper, accompanied by the syncopated sounds of a harmonica and an electric guitar. Though a piano held space in the living room of the small two-bedroom apartment adorned with found artwork, no one attempted to play it.

Dylan Harm, 19, attended the rent party for the first time and wasn't sure what to expect. He tossed a $20 into the vase then took a seat on a flowery beach near the window, with views of the East River and the Williamsburg Bridge.

"I was a little nervous," said Harm. "It was a scene that I had always been interested in but I had never been invited to anything remotely close to that."

The evening began drawing to a close after Kramer, dressed in jeans, a gray top and a black knit hat that rested a few inches from her curly black hairline, sang an old song called "Back Water Blues." She was accompanied by Larry Roland, a poet and musician who played a stick bass. The number wasn't rehearsed, but it came together like an impromptu jam session.

With money she collects from the rent parties, which she says brings in an average of $80, the cost of keeping her apartment has been further reduced. But Kramer says it's not just about the rent.

"I'm starting something of a jazz loft scene on the Lower East Side to keep jazz musicians working," she said. "And myself working."