Darrow Montgomery
HOW IT ALL WENT DOWN The leaders of subterranean art space Dupont Underground have fought for more than a decade to activate tunnels below Dupont Circle. Can it survive financial woes and government foot-dragging? By Emma Sarappo Nov. 8, 2019 wasn’t an especially cold night in Dupont Circle, but everyone inside the unheated Dupont Underground tunnel kept their hats and coats on. The opening of the 2019 World Press Photo Exhibition had brought hundreds of people deep below D.C. to celebrate journalism, art, and Dupont Underground itself. Attendees milled around, viewing photographic prints and projections. By the time Dupont Underground’s CEO Robert Meins got up to the stage at the tunnel’s end to speak, it was so crowded and noisy with the echoes of footsteps and conversations that it was at first hard for him to be heard. Meins, who had only been on the job since March, thanked the DC Com-
mission on the Arts and Humanities, the Rotary Club, and Dupont Underground’s volunteers. “As I will get into later this evening, there are some difficulties around the space,” he said. The crowd murmured as he moved on to introducing the night’s speakers. Later, Meins took to the stage again. “It was a group of D.C. residents who decided that this space could be used for an event like the one we’re having tonight,” he explained. For years, Dupont Underground had done so, hosting exhibitions, live theater, a fashion show, and other programming. Now, they wanted to turn the still-abandoned west platform, the mirror image of the tunnel people were gathered in that
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night, into a permanent gallery for photojournalism. World Press Photo had expressed major interest in partnering. DU was ready to move ahead. “Then we got in touch with the city—or we started to try and get in touch with the city,” Meins explained. “And a week went by. And another week went by. And a third week went by ... Eight months, it took, and the intervention of someone who means a great deal to us, to be able to actually have a telephone call with the people at the city who are responsible for the space.” It didn’t go well, and he was worried: “That conversation lasted about 20 minutes … At the end of that call, it was quite clear that the city was looking for alternative uses for the
space. When I say alternative uses for the space, I mean they would like to hand it over to a developer,” he said. The crowd booed. The major issue facing the group, Meins explained, was that their lease was expiring, and for an arts organization that books programming six months in advance, the spring 2020 expiration date was effectively kneecapping them. “We are a small community organization and we have a small voice. Many of you have a much larger voice,” he said. “Help us amplify our goal to keep Dupont Underground the underground heart of Dupont Circle.” The crowd clapped wildly. Meins walked off, and the reception continued. That November opening led to a small flurry of media coverage on the uncertain future of the space. But though months have passed, Dupont Underground has yet to extend its initial five-and-a-half year lease with the city, and it expires in May. The hectic tone of the last few months isn’t uncommon for the group. In the last five years, DU has struggled to realize their vision for the notoriously hard to activate space, and their accomplishments have been accompanied by stumbles. Now, despite ongoing negotiations and renewed optimism from the team, nothing’s guaranteed for Dupont Underground’s future. Six yearS before that night, the old trolley tunnels underneath Dupont Circle sat untouched. Originally built in 1949 for D.C.’s
