After the jump, Brian James Kirk wonders why he don’t use jelly.

Independents Hall: Hold The Jelly

Walking up the carpeted steps of Independents Hall, all that can be heard over the low drone of the exposed duct heating is the soft pecking of computer keyboards. Four young casually dressed men are seated comfortably in a row of tables, concentrating deeply into MacBooks, with each of their iPhones charging close by. On the far left of the row, Alex Hillman works diligently on a web design. His eyes shift from his laptop where he tweaks typewritten code to a Cinema display where he previews the final version of a page. While the rest of the group occasionally murmurs to each other, Hillman never looks away from his desktop.

Nah, this isn’t the setup of the newest Apple commercial.

Hillman’s got piercings so how could he possibly be a weedhead? [Photo credit: StellarGirl]

Behind Hillman, next to a bag of Chinese take-out, magazines are spread out on a small, Ikea end-table. Fast Company, the kind of I-get-things-done-but-in-a-new-and-fun-way magazine you’d probably only put on your coffee table to impress someone, sits besides old issues of Wired. One is an annual issue titled “Geekipedia.” Another headlines Google‘s plan to fund a trip to outer space. If Google is trying to conquer the moon, Hillman and his colleagues at Independents Hall are looking to get the edge on Philly’s independent workforce. IndyHall is the first of its kind in the city, a venture modeled after co-ops around the country that are changing where we can conduct business, and helping to create a framework for how we can turn companies and people that rely on virtual communities into real, social offices. This ain’t MySpace, kiddos.

This is about worker culture, a general change in the way people view the workplace. That’s pretty big, and every time I say it I kind of freak myself out. — Hillman

Despite Obvious Commune Similarities, I Promise You No On-Site Grateful Dead Or Bong Rips

The loft space in Old City, nestled between Market and Chestnut on Strawberry Street, has been used as an apartment in the past and has the kind of where-are-the-mothballs-hidden atmosphere that could double as a classier version of Upstairs at Sal’s. Today, it houses Philadelphia’s newest business venture into collaborative work spaces. Independents Hall offers work-from-home independents the opportunity to rent a desk next to other independent workers. While this doesn’t necessarily decrease your chance of sitting next to some jackass who shoots rubber bands at you while you’re trying to get work done, at least you can feel comfort knowing that their slacking isn’t going to affect your workload. For $25, you can rent a place to work for a day, or pay $275 monthly for full-time access to a desk.

People are just more generally interested in each other at Indy Hall. [Photo credit: StellarGirl]

The entire office is situated in a large, one-room flat divided into two floors, with a wide vaulted ceiling separating two upstairs mezzanines. More than a dozen tables, separate from the row currently occupied by Hillman and his co-workers, are situated around the room in casual disarray. A jacket is slung over one of the empty chairs, and an extra laptop charger, waiting for its owner to return, sits nearby. The front half of the room is lit well by hanging lights that create a halo contrasting a darkened conference room on the opposite side of the floor. A sign on the wall, which reads much like an elementary school’s library reading promotion says “Go for Quality,” “Encourage Wild Ideas,” “Get Visual,” “Yes, and….”

I Says To Myself, Can We Make It Through A Philadelphia-Based Feature Without A Ben Franklin Reference?

Independents Hall’s premise is representative of a generation of workers who are sick of the isolation of corporate cubicles and who start their own businesses from home. But that independence creates its own isolation, and Hillman hoped to fill this gap. The burgeoning idea of co-working is as much about independence as it is about cooperating with the worker sitting at the next desk.

Sure, it’s an OCD nightmare, but it sure as hell beats having a boss. [Photo credit: StellarGirl]

A year in the making, the co-op is a result of smaller collaborations from creative types around the city. Hillman had made several contacts with independent workers throughout his time as a freelancer, and began suggesting on a local e-mail listserv about meeting up in person. A member of the listserv had been reading about Ben Franklin‘s “Junto,” weekly meetings where anyone — the common man, business owner and politician would come together and talk about the state of affairs. Sans discussion of how Revolutionary this might sound, the idea became a physical place where multimedia, creative, and tech people could get together and just talk, something they were missing out on working from home.

Seattle Soon Responded With Their Own Collective, “Wet Doughnut,” With Little Fanfare

First came the Cream Cheese sessions. No, that’s not a Phish album. In New York, an independent worker had founded Jelly, inviting other creatives working from home who missed the social interactions of the workplace to his house every other week to work on their projects. Hillman and friends played Philly’s version’s name off of our staple dairy product, and started meeting weekly. They would convene at National Mechanics, as an almost silent troop of 16 who would talk to each other through back channel chat rooms, as not to bother anyone around them. Soon, Cream Cheese was getting covered by big press, and the group reached critical mass. Hillman asked interested friends for money to jump start the business, and within a month the doors on Strawberry street were open.

We asked ourselves, why do we have to wait for an office to work together. We need to be doing this everyday. — Hillman

Even when it’s getting dark, light seems to shine down on cooperative work places. Photo Cred: Hyku

Word Travels Fast On The Tubes

As soon as an Inky feature highlighting the venture hit the wire, Independence Hall was receiving calls from all over the world. They were contacted by Pierre’s Costume Shop because a manager wanted a quieter place to get paperwork done. An agency in San Fransisco hired and immediately began paying for a new employee’s desk at the collective. Someone from Melbourne, Australia called asking about the idea. Others called to ask if he’d be franchising the business. For Hillman, that was a big hells no.

It’s about spreading the concept and letting everyone own the idea. Its a community of people doing what they love, whether they do it together or on their own. — Hillman

All the more reason for that sign on the wall that leaves the future in ambiguity- “Yes, and….” And no, that sentence doesn’t end with “let’s go smoke a bowl.”

Brian James Kirk is a writer living in Fishtown, USA. His affinity for RSS feeds is equally as strong as his affinity for ladies- a subject he often covers in a sex column he writes for the Temple News.

Previously: Technologicology: Comcast, Let’s Get To Know Each Other

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 6th, 2007 at 1:34 pm.