by Marva and Myriam Babel spent much of the last few years thinking about the concept of space, especially how to sustain it in a gentrifying neighborhood. Now that they have a new one, a membership club in Brooklyn called Babel Loft, they’ve been mulling over how to fill it.
The main area, a space with living room furniture, two bar areas, books by Questlove and comedian Dick Gregory lying around, as well as DJ equipment on white marble, could be a daytime workspace and a place dancing during the night. . Beyond the DJ booth is a smaller room intended as a quiet space, and turning left reveals a short hallway (still under construction on a recent visit) that leads to what the sisters call the B side, that will ever be another musical space. The ladders and cardboard boxes are removed. Another left turn returns visitors to the entrance to the main area, as if they had turned over a vinyl record, Marva Babel said.
“Each location will be intentional and that’s a work in progress,” Myriam Babel (pronounced “babble”) said after the tour. “That’s really the beauty and the fun.”
The enthusiasm for space is not only due to its possibilities, but also to the simple idea of having much more. Babel Loft is the sisters’ follow-up to Ode to Babel, a cocktail bar they founded in 2015 that became a favorite among Black and LGBTQ New Yorkers. The new venture, geared toward what Myriam calls the “creative professional,” offers perks including front-row access to events, a co-working space, and priority reservations for Babel Loft’s resident chef. To make these benefits and the space itself financially viable, the sisters have asked long-time patrons and newcomers to take a chance: While Ode to Babel, which closed at the end of June, was a free-entry venue, Babel Loft, also in Prospect Heights, is a membership club with fees. (Until the end of October, the annual fee is $810, after which it will increase.)
The founding of Babel Loft, which is backed by a group of 35 investors, almost all of them Black, the sisters said, was spurred in part by a belief in a community-oriented approach to business. For years, they had seen customers support Ode to Babel because it was owned by black women.
“Trust came from really knowing who our community is,” Marva said. “Knowing that our community will want to have space for each other, for themselves.”
Black-owned businesses were booming around the time of the founding of Ode to Babel. The number of Black businesses in U.S. metropolitan areas increased nearly 14 percent between 2017 and 2020, compared to a 0.53 percent increase in businesses overall. according to the Brookings Institution. The concept of Black ownership received more attention in 2020, when the Covid-19 pandemic and the death of George Floyd forced an examination of the many difficulties faced by African Americans, including economic disadvantage.
To correct those disparities, which include less access to capital to start businesses as well as a stark racial wealth gap, advocates called on consumers to spend at Black businesses. Cheraé Robinson, an entrepreneur and former Ode to Babel regular who is now a Babel Loft investor, saw a growing sense of pride in that kind of intentional spending.
“More people are also understanding the importance of us making those strategic decisions to spend our money in our community and doing so as often as possible,” Ms Robinson said. “We go beyond, ‘I want a black doctor, I want a black dentist.’ Now, ‘I want a black acupuncturist, I want to go to a black wine store, I want to go to a black-owned yoga studio.’”
The Babel sisters, who declined to give their ages, said their economic principles dated back to their upbringing in central Brooklyn. Her mother and grandmother, as well as her time at East, an educational organization in Brooklyn that preached Pan-Africanism in the 1970s and 1980s, instilled in them the ideas of self-sufficiency and cooperative economics.
Tayo Giwa, founder of Black-owned Brooklyn, an online publication that has chronicled local Black businesses in the District since 2018, recognized the increased visibility of Black businesses as part of the legacy of the George Floyd protests. Still, he said, “We had been doing this before that. “The work we were doing wasn’t really a reaction to anything specific.”
The announcement of the closure of Ode to Babel was bittersweet. Clients remembered it as if it had been a very noisy living room, with a promised adventure every night. “It was one of the few places I could go and listen to all the types of music I love in one place, I’m guaranteed to leave with at least one phone number, whether it’s a new friend or a new girlfriend,” Mrs. Robinson said. .
But some had the feeling that the community had outgrown the space. Myriam compared knowing that it was time for her to watch the final seasons of a classic sitcom, when the show becomes unknown due to new additions to the cast. The feeling was literal, too: The parties were packed, shoulders were rubbed, and crowds often spilled onto the sidewalks. When Ode to Babel hosted her farewell party on June 16, hundreds of attendees filled the block.
“What we saw, especially when they were closing, was how many people were so emotionally impacted by this,” Mr. Giwa said. “The way they cultivated a community so intensely means they were a really beloved institution..”
The Babel Loft is on the fourth floor of a building two blocks from the sisters’ former business. On a recent Monday in October, brown paper covered a window near the entrance.
The sober exterior may hint at the uphill climb facing black entrepreneurs. Access to funds remains a struggle; Last year, 46 percent of Black business owners said they had experienced difficulties accessing capital, according to a survey released by Bank of America. The Brookings Institution estimates that, at the current growth rate, it will take 256 years for business ownership to reach parity with the percentage of black people in the country.
But investors in Babel Loft point to promising signs as it finds its footing: Robinson said membership had grown from about 30 people to more than 150 two weeks after a weekend in mid-September.
Attracting more members will take some convincing. Kyla Kelly, chef and former Ode to Babel regular, said she was planning to become a member after the previous weekend, which included a one-on-one discussion between a writer and a multi-hyphenate creative and a late-night DJ. To make the decision, she said she had to see the space and her potential for herself.
“When people invest in an experience, you have certain expectations,” Kelly, 38, said. “It’s not like I’m going to come in for a drink and expect to like the atmosphere.”
The extent of the sisters’ ambitions is slowly revealed in conversation. The plan to finish work on the B-side lounge by the end of November sets a goal of expanding its spirits brand with the help of collaborators outside of New York, creating a vision of an interconnected travel hub with links to Kenya.
“Marva and I have no egos,” Myriam said. “We thought, ‘Okay, this is what we want to do.’ U.S. build.'”
