
Blake Emory was just looking for a place to stage a show with his band when he came across the boarded-up Oliva Tobacco Company building in Ybor City. But after stumbling through the ruins of the 116-year-old former cigar factory, he decided just one show wouldn't be enough.
Three months and countless gallons of sweat later, Blake Emory and his brother James are almost ready to unveil what they hope will become the new epicenter for the Ybor City arts scene: three floors of galleries, theatrical productions, concerts and anything else that will attract creative people to the heart of Ybor.
"With this venue we could do some really amazing things," 23-year-old Blake says, looking out over a huge, dimly-lit room on the factory's first floor.
But first, they have to clear out the cobwebs.
Despite its size, it's easy to miss the Oliva Tobacco Company's building on Palm Avenue and Angel Oliva Sr. (18th) Street. The blue and white three-story structure, one of just two wooden cigar factories left in Florida, doesn't catch the eye like its sexier brick cousins. Since the Oliva family moved its operations to Armenia Avenue several years ago, the building has sat quietly behind a six-foot barbed wire fence and boarded-up windows. Five years ago, in an effort to keep the building alive, owner Angel "Trey" Oliva III attempted to attract local artists as tenants and let their creativity spread to the rest of the building. But except for a few artists who used the space for exhibitions, nobody seemed interested in using the space for anything but storage. Until Oliva met the Emory brothers.
Blake and James Emory are partners in the art design company Jab Ink, which has created murals for businesses across the Tampa Bay area, including the Jerk Hut and Ringo's Tropical Grill. It was Emory's extensive portfolio, and his proven track record of making money from creative endeavors, that convinced Oliva to allow the artist to use his family's former headquarters as a blank canvas.
"I'm trying to make something of the building so it doesn't lie in ruins," the third-generation Oliva says. "I just want the building to function."
Oliva says office space and other commercial uses just do not fit the layout of the factory. Plus, Oliva has always had a passion for the arts.
"We always wanted to give something back and the arts is what I'm into," he says. "[Blake] has some good ideas and I think he can pull them off."
The Emory brothers do not just have ideas, though; they have a full-blown dream to turn the 30,000-square-foot cigar factory into an arts mecca with art galleries, theatrical productions, concerts (local, national and international), independent movie nights, family-friendly weekend events, an art school and a collective space similar to Artists Unlimited.
"We're bringing the arts back to Tampa," says James, 26, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses. "Because, for one, everyone knows this town has the potential to be very artistic."
Inspired by the Emerys' enthusiasm, Oliva has offered to let them live in the building in exchange for rehabilitating all three floors. He is also matching whatever investment they make in improvements. Then, once the Emerys start making money, they will split profits with Oliva.
The brothers still seem amazed by Oliva's proposition.
"The opportunity was just handed to us," James says. "Here's a fine building to work with, just given to us."
The Emory brothers do not plan on letting that opportunity slip through the dusty cracks. They have already cleared out most of the building's larger rooms and, with the help of several friends, they hope to open the space for its first show in late September or early October. Still, they acknowledge it's going to be a tough couple of months: The floors are strewn with file cabinets, antique Coke machines and rusted cash registers; new lighting will have to be installed; and the whole building needs a fresh coat of paint. But it's the potential of the space that keeps them going.
"When we walked in it was just a massive, chaotic mess," Blake says. "But we're willing to clean this place up. It's all about ambition and hard work."
On a recent afternoon, the Emory brothers took a break from clearing out debris on the first floor to show off the Ybor relic — their excitement reminiscent of two kids showing off a tree fort to a friend. Blake, his red hair tied back behind a bandanna, takes the lead laying out his plan room by room.
On the first floor, Blake envisions a small concert hall suitable for punk rock and large gallery shows. Nearly 50 small studio spaces for artists will line the southern wall along with a top-rate music studio.
"We'll still keep the whole rustic appeal going," Blake says, leading me up a set of winding stairs to the second level. "It's going to be like vintage, classical, but more polished."
On the second floor — the cigar factory's former workroom, with over 50 huge sash windows — Blake sees a stage for theatrical productions and larger concerts.
"We were thinking about what we were going to do for a curtain and we found this thing here," he says as James unhooks a rope, releasing a thick plastic sheet from the ceiling. "They used to put tobacco leaves on it and let them dry out. So you just put some nice material on it and you have a curtain already installed."
Blake says this type of adaptive re-use will set the venue apart from others in the area. With vintage chutes, conveyer belts and vaults, the entire factory will act as its own museum.
"The third floor is the hottest, but it's also the coolest," Blake says on the way up another set of stairs.
The smallest of the three floors, the space should be perfect for family events like karate competitions and independent film nights, says Blake.
"We're trying to start an empire of artists," James says. "By being here, in the middle of Ybor, we can easily network. All the connections are right there in front of you."
The Emerys' enthusiasm is contagious. Already, fellow artists have contacted the brothers to run the theater and independent movie night. And Blake has artists contacting him every day in anticipation of the factory's opening.
"We need space," says Murphy Elliott, one of the artists confirmed for the Emerys' opening show in late fall. "We need a place for working artists."
Elliott says the building could become a place where art buyers and businesses can "shop" for artists' work, giving the local scene more exposure and plug them into the local economy.
That's Blake's hope, too. Just as the Oliva Tobacco Company signaled the resurgence of Ybor City's prominence in the cigar world, Blake hopes the new arts center will bring back Ybor's thriving artist culture.
"Ybor City is really starving for a big arts scene," Blake says. "That's what this is really all about: bringing the arts back to Tampa."
Editor's note: A previous version of this article misspelled Blake Emory's name.
This article appears in Aug 16-22, 2006.
