By Rose Vance-Grom for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Farah Siddiqi for Ohio News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration

Akron, Ohio has been a hotbed for jazz in the Midwest since the 1930s. Its central location between bigger cities like New York and Chicago made it a perfect stop for traveling musicians. Many renowned artists, including Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald, performed in Akron as they passed through; but there was also a thriving local scene, the roots of which can still be felt today. 

For much of the 20^th century, Akron was an industrial powerhouse. People flocked to the “Rubber Capital of the World” in search of jobs causing the population to jump, growing from 70,000 in 1910 to nearly 210,000 by 1920. Akron’s Black population increased eightfold in that time, and many of them settled along Howard Street between Downtown and West Akron.

Where It All Began

This neighborhood – dubbed “Little Harlem” – became the center of the business and entertainment district along Howard Street, with Black-owned hotels, restaurants, clubs, barbershops, and beauty salons that served the tight knit community. According to the Ohio Informer, Akron’s short lived Black newspaper, there was always music and dancing at the clubs down “Rhythm Row” from the Cosmopolitan, to the Hi-Hat Club, to Benny Rivers, just to name a few.

By the late 1960s the rubber industry was dwindling and much of Howard Street, like the rest of Akron, was in decline. A 1968 “urban renewal” project to build a highway spur linking Akron to the larger interstate network would seal the fate of Howard Street. Construction on the Innerbelt began in 1970, resulting in the destruction of the predominantly Black neighborhood within the decade. Adding salt to the proverbial wound, the project was never fully completed and is now mostly abandoned. In 2023, the City of Akron issued an apology for the lasting harm the project caused for generations of Akronites. 

The loss of the Howard Street neighborhood was devastating but it was not the end of the jazz scene. It lived on in small clubs and church basements, and through the people who continued to play anywhere they could. 

Where It Lives On

When Justin Tibbs, a local saxophonist and composer, was a teenager in the 2000s his mom snuck him into a blues bar where he met local legends Jim Noel, Waymon “Punchy” Atkinson, and Donald Stembridge. 

“Growing up, I always had to ask one of the legendary guys, ‘where’s the jam session at?’, and it would be in some church somewhere. We would go there and play tunes and watch ‘em all play. I didn’t know how big they were,” Tibbs said of his early experiences. This exposure led Tibbs to enroll in The University of Akron in 2006, later joining the Jazz Studies program. 

The University of Akron Jazz Ensemble has a direct link to Howard Street. It began in 1978, under the direction of Roland Paolucci, a jazz pianist who played on Howard Street in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He led the program for 22 years before Jack Schantz, a UA graduate and jazz trumpeter, took over for the next 20 years.

The program continues today, co-chaired by Theron Brown, a jazz pianist and two-time UA graduate. Brown moved from Zanesville, Ohio in 2005, unaware of Akron’s jazz history and Howard Street until about 2009, “That’s when I just heard of the names like Punchy Atkinson and Jimmy Noel.”

Brown was part of a Howard Street tribute concert in 2019 at BLU Jazz+, one of Akron’s premier live jazz venues. He played with 91-year-old Jimmy Noel for the first time, only months before his death. Brown reflected, “That’s when I really woke up… There is literally nobody else that can tell the story. We need to go out and find out … there’s a spirit in the air for this music, there’s a vibe, you can call it whatever you want.”

It was similar for Tibbs, who grew up in Akron, “I would talk with them, and they would tell me stories… And I wish I would have had an iPhone at that time to record everything because it’s gone to history… It’s sad that history is gone, but I feel like I’m a part of it in a way because I know their story.”

Jazz for the Future

This sentiment has been shared in recent years as more attention than ever is being paid to this era of history. In 2016, Brown started the Rubber City Jazz and Blues Festival to celebrate Akron’s musical legacy. Now in its ninth year, it has grown into a cultural festival featuring dance, performance art, digital art, and a celebration of Black musical traditions. 

Students at The University of Akron are now further documenting this history with the Green Book Cleveland Project, started by Mark Souther of Cleveland State University with the Cuyahoga Valley National Park in 2021. The restorative history project is rooted in the “Negro Motorist Greenbook” published between 1936 and 1966 for Black travelers and documents the entertainment, leisure, and recreation sites available at the time. 

In addition to his Jazz Studies courses, Brown recently co-taught a project-based class with Dr. Hillary Nunn, called “Round Howard Street: Telling the Story of Akron Jazz” in which students studied jazz culture in connection with the City of Akron to bring about a fuller understanding of its Black History. 

Both Brown and Tibbs credit The University of Akron for fostering an environment for young musicians to meet and play together. “I wouldn’t know any of my buddies that play if it wasn’t for that. It centralized the community in a space even though Howard [Street] didn’t exist,” Brown said. Tibbs similarly reflected, “It’s a whole new generation of musicians… that play original music”. Brown and Tibbs are just two of many musicians playing in the area, all of whom will tell you that Akron still has a unique sound.


Rose Vance-Grom wrote this story for Arts Midwest.


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By Frankie (Amy) Felegy for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Mark Moran for Iowa News Service reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration

Chuy Renteria started dancing-specifically breaking-at the age of 14. A magazine editor and writer these days, Renteria still uses breaking to express his identity-and defiance, rebellion, and frustration with the other dancers.

"We're in conversation. We're having the equivalent of a heated argument on the dance floor," he says. The improvisational street dance is rooted in African American and Latino culture. It originated in New York City in 1980s, alongside a growing hip-hop scene.

Renteria dances to engage with the labels pasted onto him, both accurate and biased.

"When people see me walking down the street, they can't help but think A, B, C, right? So when I go to sleep and I wake up, I can't take that away," he says.

'This is Me'

Renteria grew up in West Liberty, Iowa, in the 80s and 90s-a time and place that has shaped who he is and where his art leads him.

The city is less than two square miles in size; inside is a historically majority Hispanic population.

"Growing up in West Liberty, I felt too Mexican for the white people and too white for the Mexican people. And that was always this constant [existence] between those spaces," Renteria says.

As young as nine years old, the first-generation Mexican-American remembers racial slurs being flung at him. People would say they hated him.

"And when I found dance, it transcended all of that," he says. "It's like, this is me."

Finding Meaning

Renteria shares: "Just by nature of my own identity, in the context of the social constructs around us, me existing becomes this political conversation point to folks."

But that politicization isn't as direct a translation in dance as, say, artforms that use words or visuals. The dialogue is more subtle.

"Dance and movement, and that sort of expression, is just as valid, and it's just as politically cognizant of the world. It just does it in this kind of abstraction. It doesn't have to be hitting you over the head," he says.

Renteria's 2021 memoir We Heard It When We Were Young, along with his more recent blog posts in Of Spanglish and Maximalism, grapple with his past, the now, and beyond.

What is identity? How does intergenerational trauma and racism impact who we are? The list goes on: "Did I have a good childhood? Am I a good person because-or in spite of-my upbringing? ... Is my town a good town? The town that I grew up in, the town as of now, is it a good place?" Renteria asks.

"I'm really interested in the questions that I don't know the answer to."


Frankie (Amy) Felegy wrote this story for Arts Midwest.


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By Anya Slepyan for The Daily Yonder.
Broadcast version by Mike Moen for Minnesota News Connection for the Public News Service/Daily Yonder Collaboration

As the 2024 election approached, news channels and commentators once again revived a familiar narrative: the urban-rural divide. 

But Laura Zabel, executive director of Minnesota-based arts non-profit Springboard for the Arts, was more interested in urban-rural solidarity. 

“Going into an election year, we knew that there was going to be a lot of narrative that focused on ways we might be different, or ways that people assume we’re different,” Zabel said. “And we wanted to do something to not only counter that narrative, but to help people build real relationships and real solidarity across urban and rural places.” 

Stoking resentment between urban and rural communities serves to divide largely working-class constituencies that could gain more political power if they work together, Zabel said. Emphasizing what these communities have in common, across different geographies and demographics, can help counter that divide. But it’s not easy to overcome a narrative that is so deeply ingrained that many Americans take it for granted.

So Springboard for the Arts launched a new initiative, consisting of over 35 artists working on projects across Minnesota, Michigan, Kentucky, and Colorado that connect urban and rural communities. The installations include phone booths that connect communities in rural Northfield, Minnesota and Minneapolis, a culinary project that celebrates the fusion of a chef’s Southeast Asian roots and rural midwestern upbringing, and a Kentucky poetry slam honoring the renowned theorist and professor bell hooks.

The results, Zabel said, demonstrate “all of the different ways that we’re connected, and all of the different creative ways that we might reach out to one another and build that kind of understanding.” 

Using art projects to foster connection and understanding is effective, according to Zabel, because they leave room for nuance and complexity that is often flattened by media narratives. Creative projects can also help people approach new ideas with a more open mind, she said. 

“Art has a tremendous ability to build shared experience in ways that takes people outside of their comfort zone, or makes people more open to thinking of things in a different way,” Zabel said.

A project installed in two Minnesota elementary schools demonstrates the principles behind the projects. Artist David Hamlow worked with 2nd and 3rd graders in rural St. James and urban Minneapolis to design wall sculptures made of recycled materials. Each student was also given a yearbook photo of a participating student from the other school, and asked to incorporate that picture into the sculpture. The resulting walls of faces serve a purpose similar to pen pals, according to Zabel.

The youth-focused project also hopes to reach urban and rural children before they’ve internalized the harmful stereotypes these communities can apply to one another. 

Project installations by the initial class of 35 artists are ongoing, but Zabel hopes to expand the initiative further in coming years.

“I think that if we are able to build greater understanding and connection, and help people see a more complete picture of what it looks like to live in different contexts, we end up finding out that there is a lot of shared interest and shared hope for our future and our children,” Zabel said.


Anya Slepyan wrote this article for The Daily Yonder.


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Sixty years ago this weekend, young activists marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, demanding their right to vote and changing history in the process. Today, another group of young people is using art to make their voices heard in Georgia.

A Boston-based arts group, beheard.world, has teamed up with Selma-area teens for "Selma Again," a production that blends dance, spoken word and music to shed light on the struggles the city still faces today.

Director and choreographer Anna Myer said the performance is about pushing forward, as well as looking back.

"The piece talks about real things that are happening and things that go to the heart," she said, "and it also talks about love and the only way forward is love and the only way to keep moving forward is if we do this together."

Myer said she first visited Selma years ago and was struck by how poverty and crime persist despite its historic significance. She and her husband, filmmaker Jay Paris, along with Selma natives, helped create a nonprofit initiative to blend nonviolence education, performing arts and storytelling for local youth.

It's part of the Selma Cross-Cultural Nonviolence and Performing Arts Academy, which was co-founded by Dallas County natives and civil rights veterans Charles Bonner and Viola Douglas, along with the Rev. Gary Crum of Elwood Christian Church. Through poetry and dance, teens confront modern challenges and honor past civil rights leaders.

Myer said this year's production highlights how today's youth can step into the legacy of activism left by the "foot soldiers" of the 1960s.

"In the performance in Atlanta, we're honoring civil rights veterans who are still alive - Andrew Young, and Charles Steele, and Faya Rose Sanders, and Lynda Blackmon Lowery," she added. "We're honoring them and we'll be also speaking their names in the piece."

"Selma Again" will be performed today (Fri., March 7) at Morehouse College's Ray Charles Performing Arts Center in Atlanta, and Sat., March 8, at Ellwood Christian Academy in Selma, as part of the annual Bridge Crossing Jubilee.

Myer emphasized the show's ultimate goal is to spark meaningful conversations, promote understanding and inspire action for lasting change.