Inside Greenwood Social Hall, a historic Baptist church turned intimate gathering place for music, art and community

by Nina Cherry

In the Westside, musician Calvin Arsenia is hosting world-class concerts in a historic building that he also calls home. Formerly known as Greenwood Baptist Church, Greenwood Social Hall was built in 1927 by Waverly T. Thomas, one of the first Black architects to work in Kansas City.

An avid performer throughout KC and beyond, Arsenia is an ethereal harpist and singer (he also plays an array of other stringed instruments and the piano). Nearly three years ago, the musician moved into Greenwood, taking over the space from artist Peregrine Honig, who lived there for almost eight years and helped transform the former church into an arts space. As Greenwood’s director, Arsenia hosts performances, workshops, figure drawing sessions and more.

Photography by Laura Morsman and Ian Simmons.

Earlier this year, an opportunity to purchase the Hall presented itself, and on July 31, Arsenia signed the deed. He was able to purchase the building with help from members of the local community and donors from New York to Los Angeles. The Greenwood crowdfunding campaign raised more than $100,000 toward the building’s acquisition. “I feel honored to be supported by so many people—people who want to see artist-run spaces in the world,” Arsenia says.

Now that the place is officially his, we visited Arsenia to take a closer look at the historic space.

Bare bones

The interior of Greenwood Social Hall looks quite a bit different today than it did nearly a century ago—or even a decade ago.

In 2016, the congregation faced a tough choice. With aging parishioners, accessibility concerns and a building in need of repair, the congregation decided it was best to sell the space. “It was a shell when I came into that space,” Honig says. “The floors were coming down. The ceiling was falling down.”

Soon after, Honig served as the creative director of an extensive renovation project—working alongside Jamie Jeffries of real estate venture Bottoms Up Collective—renaming the space Greenwood Social Hall. In 2017, Arsenia was one of the first artists to use the freshly revamped space, recording the album, Live at Greenwood. The following year, the Hall’s restoration garnered the attention of The New York Times.

Honig called the space home for nearly eight years until her husband, musician Mike Dillon, recommended that Arsenia take over the lease. “I feel like I planted the seed and Calvin is growing the garden,” Honig says.

When it came to the restoration, Arsenia says much of what they did was just reveal the space’s “bare bones.” Although the church once had a drop ceiling, Greenwood’s original vaulted ceiling—with rustic, exposed beams—is now on full display. The back wall, the backdrop for performers taking the stage, was once covered with wood panelling. When those panels were removed, a pair of green-tinted, stained glass windows was revealed.

A space by artists, for artists

The concerts are cozy and intimate, and it feels as if you’re curled up on the couch in someone’s living room—because you are, in Arsenia’s. A hodgepodge of secondhand couches and chairs have taken the place of pews. Eclectic, maximalist decor—an extension of Arsenia’s creativity—line the window sills and walls.

The space stands out as one of few dedicated listening rooms in KC. Audience members are attentively tuned in to the performance, free from the glow of muted TVs and bar chatter. A thoughtful and attentive host, Arsenia has created a space by artists, for artists. “As a listener, I just hate going to a show where I feel like a burden to the space––where the bartenders or security guards are annoyed,” he says. “That’s not the kind of place I want to be going to to listen to music.”

He also hopes Greenwood can inspire local creatives looking to build something of their own. “So many artists believe that their lot in life is to be struggling,” he says. “I hope that I can provide an example and offer resources to help artists know that isn’t the only choice. It’s been a lot of hard work to acquire this space, but I didn’t do it alone. I hope that this can be a linchpin for other artists to take up space.”

Taking flight

A key fixture of the space is a suspended sculptural installation, artist Ross Redmon’s Passenger Migration. A flock of pigeons hang from the exposed beams, and upon a closer look, the birds dangle upside down, creating the illusion of flight overhead.

Choral loft

While the downstairs features an open floor plan with a sweeping living space, half-bath and a quaint yet maximalist kitchen, the choral loft has been partitioned into a bedroom and bathroom.

The bedroom, largely consumed by the bed and built in-shelving, is a clever use of space. It features a loft of its own for extra storage, which Arsenia had custom-built.

The bathroom—outfitted with porcelain tile, an enameled cast-iron pedestal sink and a clawfoot tub—is full of period-appropriate charm. It’s also where Arsenia puts on his pre-concert glam.

A place of worship

“There’s so much that has happened here,” Arsenia says. “Funerals, weddings, political meetings, concerts—I’m jumping into the stream of something that was already happening.”

Arsenia’s stewardship of the space isn’t a new chapter; rather, it’s a continuation of the church’s storied life. When he opens his home for concerts, he sees parallels to the regular Sunday services that once took place here.

“There’s nothing more holy than sharing your stories through song,” Arsenia says. “It’s a time of community and ceremony.”