Long hallways and lots of stairs. Meet the people who live in RI's artists lofts.

I've long wondered who lives and works in those Rhode Island artist's lofts.

Recently, I met a great example.

I give you Bill Bartholomew.

He’s 38, rocks a man-bun, and pays rent by stitching together four or five gigs, in Bill's case musician, podcaster, independent journalist, radio producer and fill-in WPRO talk show host.

Bill was nice enough to ask me and documentary-maker Dante Bellini onto his podcast to talk about the new film Dante did on my cancer journey. When I arrived at the address of Bill’s studio, it turned out to be his home, too, in a huge old mill off Elmwood Avenue on Providence’s south side.

We marched up three or four flights to his place, and if you’d hired a Hollywood set designer to mock up a cliché artist’s loft, it couldn’t be more perfect. His brick-walled space is charming chaos filled with drums, guitars, a bunch of bikes, his wife’s paintings and two unseen musicians still asleep in the rooms they rent from Bill so they can all afford it here.

I’d known of Bill through his podcast — "Bartholomewtown," at ripodcast.com — and radio work, but was intrigued to find he’s one of those itinerant creative loft folks as well.

He and his painter wife, Gabriela Rassi, have been here since 2018. Before that, they were in a Newport building with 16 other artists. But that got renovated into an Airbnb, a common story there, pushing folks like them to Providence in a loft version of musical chairs.

Of course, many converted mills throughout the state have been gentrified out of reach of artsy types, but this one off Elmwood, with its faded industrial feel and “Hope Brewing” sign from a long-ago tenant, remains an affordable refuge.

Bill’s neighbors include the Dead Cat Gallery, where artists work, and also an apartment of four musicians — or is it five? — who put on frequent shows in their space.

It’s not likely Bill Bartholomew's living area will make the next issue of Home Décor magazine, which got me asking if the chaos cramps his creativity. It’s the opposite.

“The space is an inspiration,” says Bill, “I wake up, make coffee, and within 30 seconds I’m in the studio doing a podcast project or something musical.” It also helps that he doesn’t have a TV.

Bill grew up in Charlestown, his mom a Chariho Middle School nurse, his dad in maintenance at the University of Rhode Island. That’s where Bill went to college, afterward moving to New York to try to make it as a drummer, guitarist, singer and songwriter. He loved it, but he was the classic struggling musician.

“You’re traveling and playing to barely make survival money,” he said.

He shared a Brooklyn loft with artists, poets and — he smiles — someone trying to build a time machine. To cover rent, he also worked as a paralegal, delivery guy and soccer referee — not untypical of musicians piecing together side hustles.

Ten years ago, he was drawn back to Rhode Island, where he found a vibrant music community. Today, he's still at it, and often does gigs, sometimes with three others, sometimes just by himself.

But Bill Bartholomew has developed another side as a public affairs guy.

He’d long been a news junkie, reading The Providence Journal and listening to the WPRO lineup of Gene Valicenti, Tara Granahan, Dan Yorke and Matt Allen. Having been the type to go on rants with his fellow artists — about issues like affordable housing and politics — Bill began doing the same as a call-in listener.

But he added a twist that made him stand out. As a studio guy, he knew the importance of good audio, so he wore a headset that delivered a clear voice with no background noise. That made “William of Newport,” as he then called himself, a popular talk show contributor.

In the loft, when he wasn’t playing music, Bill would practice his radio voice, jokingly commentating on his wife’s baking efforts: “She’s got the ingredients, they’re in the bowl — folks, will this cake be good? We’ll find out in a few minutes.”

That led him to try a podcast. As one of his first efforts, he landed an interview there in his loft studio with then-Lt. Gov. Dan McKee. He interviewed journalists like Jim Hummel, WPRI’s Ted Nesi and Ian Donnis of The Public’s Radio. And a ton of politicians.

Early on, Bill guesses he had maybe 60 listeners for a show. Hundreds of podcasts later, “Bartholomewtown” logs tens of thousands of hits a month, with edited packages airing at 3 p.m. Saturdays on WPRO.

That’s where Bill has begun working as Dan Yorke’s producer, tracking down guests, documents, audio and generally helping make the show happen.

I asked what kind of living he makes from each area.

His podcast, likely the top one in Rhode Island, has enough sponsors to bring in north of $10,000 a year. His music gigs bring in another $10,000 or so. His wife is also a musician and now has paintings in galleries, having just finished a master of fine arts at Yale. And he has his radio producer’s salary.

Bill’s loft space is huge, a deal for its size at $3,000 a month, which he can handle with two of its three bedrooms rented to musicians.

As we talked, one of them emerged — Randy Robbins, 45, well known around the area for his acoustic guitar folk performances. He looked tired, having done 10 gigs in the last 11 days. He's from New Jersey, but years ago, the Newport Folk Festival, and the city’s music scene, drew him to move there. Now he's in the more affordable Hope Brewing mill.

Then Bill’s other loft-mate, Ziggy Coffey, woke up and walked in, wearing a leopard print robe. Ziggy’s a drummer and drum teacher, with 40 private students a week. His dad was a drummer, too.

“He worked at Electric Boat,” Ziggy said, “and gigged out on weekends.”

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Ziggy is also an example of a Newport musician pushed out by rising rents to Providence. He first lived in another mill building up here with 11 folks in one unit — musicians, filmmakers, visual media artists, painters, screen printers, fashion designers and other creatives.

Then a developer gentrified it, and Ziggy feels lucky to have found a room in Bill’s loft here off Elmwood.

“I love it,” said Ziggy. “Providence has been great to me, being around so many creative people. And being able to afford it.”

He likes the way other musicians will come by. As Randy Robbins, Bill's other loft-mate, put it, “There’s a lot of shop talk in this place.”

Both he and Ziggy described Bartholomew as a force of nature, constantly driven in 10 directions.

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“Some days,” Bill himself half-jokes, “I wake up and forget who I really am.” Musician? Podcaster? Journalist? Talk show guy?

But that’s typical, he says — walk down the mill corridors and most folks here are doing more than one thing.

Each morning, after making coffee, he’ll simply sit in his studio and dive into whichever pursuit calls to him, which is how life in an artist's loft often works.

Finally, it was time for me to head out. Bill walked me down three flights of stairs — or was it four? You can lose track in a mill.

At each landing, I looked down the long, wide corridors, wondering what his neighbors were doing.

And hoping such affordable lofts survive, because folks like Bill Bartholomew are a big part of what makes Rhode Island what we are.

mpatinki@providencejournal.com

This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: RI's artist lofts offer space for musicians, artists and collaboration