Correction from the publisher:
The Northeaster misprinted a Letter to the Editor in its May 6, 2026 print edition. On pages 2 and 5, the letter titled “Quincy Street at a threshold,” signed by Jonathan Query, was printed with incorrect body copy that duplicated the preceding letter, “From solidarity to resilience” by Jennifer Garner.
We regret the error. The correct letter will appear in an upcoming print edition and is reproduced here in its entirety,.
Quincy Street at a threshold
I first rented space on Quincy Street in 1989, in what was then a rough-and-tumble warehouse district: makers, fabricators, a mattress company, a caulk manufacturer, cabinet shops, machine shops, a few dingy band spaces and an artist here and there. It wasn’t polished or planned. It was affordable, flexible and largely overlooked. That was exactly what made it possible for artists and makers to move in and begin building something.
Over the next decade, that “something” slowly took shape. Artists converted raw industrial space into studios. Small businesses followed. By the mid-1990s, I was already working to shift my building toward a community of artists and makers. In 2003, I bought the building to make that commitment permanent — to create a place where creative work could continue for the long term.
In the 1970s and 1980s, the Warehouse District downtown supported a similar arts scene — one that helped define the cultural identity of Minneapolis. But as development accelerated, artists were priced out and displaced. The energy they created remained but the people who made it possible did not.
Quincy Street has followed a different path, but it now stands at a similar threshold.
Today, the Logan Park Industrial area is a vibrant, working arts district. It is not just a place where art is shown — it is a place where it is made. On any given day, materials are being unloaded, sculptures are being fabricated, paintings are being moved and businesses are operating at a scale that depends on direct access to the street. This is a production environment, not a scenic backdrop.
That reality is largely absent from the current plans for Quincy Street, which would significantly reduce and standardize the kind of parking the street has long relied on — eliminating flexible, frontage-based access in favor of fixed, parallel spaces.
I support improving the street. We all do. Better accessibility, safer conditions for pedestrians and thoughtful infrastructure are important. But those improvements must be grounded in how the street actually works. If they are not, the result will not be a better Quincy — it will be a different place entirely: an erasure of a creative culture three decades in the making.
The Minneapolis 2040 Plan speaks clearly about supporting the creative sector and preserving the distinctive physical environments that define our city. Quincy Street is one of those environments — not in theory, but in practice.
I did not buy my building as a speculative investment. I bought it to make a stand — to help ensure that artists and makers would continue to have a place in this city. That commitment has guided the last 30 years of work on Quincy Street.
We are not asking the City to stop progress. We are asking it to recognize what already exists, and to build on it thoughtfully — to own in practice what it suggests in policy.
Quincy Street works. It has taken decades to become what it is today. The opportunity now is to improve it without losing the people and the practices that made it possible.
We are here to stay. The question is not whether Quincy will change — it will. The question is whether that change will strengthen the working arts community that built this place or repeat a pattern the city already knows too well.
Minneapolis has made a clear commitment to its creative economy. Quincy Street is where that commitment is being tested. This is the moment to get it right.
Jonathan Query
Owner of Q.arma Building