 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
Houston Chronicle
Dec. 30, 2006, 11:50AM
Place for 'music, art, coffee' in East End
Area artists, students, families find a cozy retreat at community cafe
By CYNTHIA LEONOR GARZA
WHERE IT'S AT
•Bohemeo's is tucked in the back corner of Tlaquepaque Market shopping center at 708 Telephone Road.
•For more information, go to www.bohemeos.com
Copyright 2006 Houston Chronicle
East End residents and neighborhood artists Lupe and Sidonie Olivarez got tired of driving to other parts of the city to find a
comfortable retreat in an artsy coffee house, so they decided to open their own.
Bohemeo's, with its bright orange and pink facade and sign that says "music, art, coffee" is a new business twist in a neighborhood
where those three elements haven't traditionally mixed.
"I wanted this to be an island, a headquarters for artists in this part of town," said Lupe Olivarez, 47.
Since it opened, the cafe — which has indoor and outdoor stages, wireless Internet, a patio area and original art hanging from the
walls — has been "a lot of things to a lot of different people at different times of the day."
A place to stop by
Older, longtime area residents of the predominantly Mexican and Mexican-Amer- ican neighborhood have ventured in to enjoy an
afternoon coffee.
And Austin High School students sometimes stop by after school to play cards and eat a snack.
Students from Texas Southern University have also held poetry readings there and an acid jazz group has taken the stage on
several occasions.
"It feels very familiar," said Mary Helen Rivera, a Heights resident who on a recent Saturday night listened to a cover band playing
country and Latin music. "It's family-oriented, like a place where you can come and enjoy and feel so relaxed."
Martin Gamboa has lived in the East End for more than 40 years and said the cafe is good for the community because it's a place
where parents can take their children, and it's a "family structured and supported venue."
Aside from coffee, espresso drinks and decadent desserts,
"It's definitely very urban in its feel, but it has an earthiness to it," said Sidonie Olivarez, 48.
The small business was put together in the bohemian way, on a shoestring budget.
Sidonie, or Sid, and a family member made the tile-top tables in the cafe with donated tiles.
The curtains are from a dollar store, the walls painted by friends during a painting party, and a few of Sid's paintings are on display.
"Outside of a taqueria, a Jack-in-the-Box or a cantina, there's nothing" like this in the area, said Lupe, a longtime musician.
'The last frontier'
Sidonie Olivarez, who grew up near the Heights, said "all the poor artists were forced to this area" because other parts of Houston
became too expensive.
"Eastwood and the East End has the last hope for artists."
The couple moved to the area a dozen years ago because it was affordable at the time.
They've seen it grow into one of Houston's fastest redeveloping communities — with townhomes sprouting up in the near-downtown
area and ever-increasing property taxes — and consider it "the last frontier in Houston, in the inner city," Lupe said.
Plenty of area artists have stopped by — inquiring about having their art displayed or playing a gig.
Others just say they're happy the cafe is there, and want to support it.
Operating the small business is still a day-to-day struggle for the Olivarezes, but they eventually hope to open up a kitchen that
serves healthful fare.
cynthia.garza@chron.com
Feral parrots, Bohemeo’s
thrive on the Eastside
By LISA GRAY Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle
Nov. 14, 2008, 7:21PM
Bohemeo’s, the Eastside coffee shop, isn’t really a place for bird-watching, but some things demand attention. On the patio
on a sunny afternoon, Lupe Olivarez, one of the place’s husband-and-wife owners, pointed to a pair of green shapes
wheeling off in the distance.
"Those are parrots," he said. "Wild ones."
And then he was off on a story. Bohemeo’s is, most definitely, a place for talking, and Lupe is a high-level practitioner of
the art.
One day, he said, a lady from the East End Chamber of Commerce brought restaurateur Irma Galvan to see Bohemeo’s.
Galvan told him that she used to live nearby, and that after her pet parrots escaped, they not only survived out on their
own, but thrived.
"Those parrots are tough birds," says Lupe. "They hunt. They swoop down on blackbirds. Sometimes it’s like the History
Channel out here — a World War II dogfight."
Birds escaped not just from any owner, but from one of Houston’s most famous restaurateurs — the Irma of Irma’s.
Tropical birds not only surviving but roughing up grackles, some of the toughest customers on wings? I suspected Lupe’s
story couldn’t possibly be true.
But it was a great story, and not much beats a great story. I was hungry for talk — not enough places in Houston really
foster that simple pleasure — and on that sunny afternoon, Bohemeo’s seemed as rare and unlikely as a pair of feral
parrots patrolling the city skies.
I’d been reading The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors, General Stores, Bars,
Hangouts, and How They Get You Through the Day. The book was a minor sensation in 1989, when sociologist Ray
Oldenburg published it. He explained the importance of "homes away from home," places where you run into
acquaintances, places that make cities feel like small towns. German biergartens, Japanese teahouses, African-American
barbershops, Parisian cafes: They all feed the soul.
Such places seemed endangered to Oldenburg 20 years ago, and to me the situation seems even more dire today. "Where
once there were places, we find nonplaces," Oldenburg wrote. "In real places, the human being is a person. He or she is an
individual, unique and possessing character. In nonplaces, individuality disappears. In nonplaces, character is irrelevant
and one is only the customer or shopper, client or patient, a body to be seated, an address to be billed, a car to be
parked."
Lupe and his wife Sid loved those places instinctively. Artistic types, they met when she sang backup for Lupe’s rock band,
The Basics. Married late in life and childless, they hung out at places such as the Last Concert Cafe, Brasil, Onion Creek and
Cafe Artiste — places that seem particularly precious in Houston, places with personalities, places that, if they
disappeared, would leave a hole in their regulars’ lives. (Earlier this year, when Cafe Artiste did close down, grief
counseling seemed in order. For weeks a group of devotees brought their own coffee to the restaurant parking lot and
drank it together outside the locked doors.)
A couple of years ago, as Lupe contemplated turning 50, he began casting about for something more meaningful than his
IT job for a Houston software company. Sid, who’d worked in restaurants and hotels, warned him that it’s far more fun to
frequent a place like the cafes he loved than to run one. But eventually, he won her over.
Now two years old, Bohemeo’s has as much soul as any of its inspirations. Tucked in back of the Tlaquepaque Market,
Bohemeo’s building is painted in hot Mexican colors — bright pink and yellow — but its name is spelled out with lowercase
cool, in a sans serif font that would make a Scandinavian graphic designer proud. Every month or so, there’s new art on
the walls. Every night except Mondays, the Web site calendar lists at least one event — bands, poetry readings, open
mikes.
Lupe and Sid chose the Eastside because, like lots of artists, it’s what they can afford. Their menu reflects their vision of
the neighborhood: Chai, shiraz and soy mayo consort comfortably with burgers, Bud and chicken wings, and nothing costs
more than $7. Premium coffees, like the Antigua Filly Estate, cost $1.50. A "bag o’ cookies," aimed at kids, is $1.
Slowly, says Lupe, the place has been developing tribes of regulars. People who come for the bands. Students from the
University of Houston, Texas Southern and Houston Community College. A white-collar weekday lunch crowd. Kids from
Austin High, who he lets hang around even when they don’t buy anything — unless they’re cutting class, that is, or
annoying other customers. But usually, he says, they’re great. And where else are they going to hang out?
Hanging out, it seems, is a large part of the business model. Lupe and Sid encourage all their customers to stay long after
they’ve finished their lattes. Coffee shops such as Starbucks thrive on to-go orders and turning tables over quickly, but
Bohemeo’s isn’t aiming for high-volume efficiency.
Lupe says he wants it to be a "cool little place." It won’t make him rich. But if it can at least support them, he says, he and
Sid will have "cool little lives."
Can Bohemeo’s survive? Lupe and Sid aren’t sure. They’re tired of working 15- and 16-hour days, seven days a week,
because they can’t afford more help. But even in this lousy economy, when mighty Starbucks is struggling, they continue
to grow bit by bit. Lupe says he wants to work next on developing a weekend brunch crowd. He imagines professionals
from nearby Eastwood, the Eastside’s version of the Heights, reading newspapers and sucking down free WiFi.
Tlaquepaque Market recently added tenants that might generate more foot traffic — Houston Institute for Culture/Museo
Guadalupe Aztlan, an art gallery, and the EastEnd Urban Market, a weekend purveyor of furniture and objects from
Mexico. Lupe likes thinking of the shopping center, with Thai restaurant Kanomwan, is becoming a place where
Houstonians might walk — walk! — from one spot to another.
Could such a lovely thing survive in Houston? And, in particular, on the Eastside, which is even more car-crazy than the
rest of the city? Can Telephone Road support an artsy place to talk?
"There’s more of them!" Lupe said suddenly. He pointed his chin toward parrots — this time, a whole flock flying past.
"I thought there were only two," I said.
"Irma’s parrots bred. These new ones, they’re entirely wild. There’s at least 10 of them."
Ten? I was doubtful again, so I counted. As I reached 10, more appeared. Fifteen, I counted. Twenty. I hit 22 before the
unlikely birds disappeared from sight — more than I’d thought possible, more than I’d dared to hope.
lisa.gray@chron.com
thrive on the Eastside
By LISA GRAY Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle
Nov. 14, 2008, 7:21PM
Bohemeo’s, the Eastside coffee shop, isn’t really a place for bird-watching, but some things demand attention. On the patio
on a sunny afternoon, Lupe Olivarez, one of the place’s husband-and-wife owners, pointed to a pair of green shapes
wheeling off in the distance.
"Those are parrots," he said. "Wild ones."
And then he was off on a story. Bohemeo’s is, most definitely, a place for talking, and Lupe is a high-level practitioner of
the art.
One day, he said, a lady from the East End Chamber of Commerce brought restaurateur Irma Galvan to see Bohemeo’s.
Galvan told him that she used to live nearby, and that after her pet parrots escaped, they not only survived out on their
own, but thrived.
"Those parrots are tough birds," says Lupe. "They hunt. They swoop down on blackbirds. Sometimes it’s like the History
Channel out here — a World War II dogfight."
Birds escaped not just from any owner, but from one of Houston’s most famous restaurateurs — the Irma of Irma’s.
Tropical birds not only surviving but roughing up grackles, some of the toughest customers on wings? I suspected Lupe’s
story couldn’t possibly be true.
But it was a great story, and not much beats a great story. I was hungry for talk — not enough places in Houston really
foster that simple pleasure — and on that sunny afternoon, Bohemeo’s seemed as rare and unlikely as a pair of feral
parrots patrolling the city skies.
I’d been reading The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors, General Stores, Bars,
Hangouts, and How They Get You Through the Day. The book was a minor sensation in 1989, when sociologist Ray
Oldenburg published it. He explained the importance of "homes away from home," places where you run into
acquaintances, places that make cities feel like small towns. German biergartens, Japanese teahouses, African-American
barbershops, Parisian cafes: They all feed the soul.
Such places seemed endangered to Oldenburg 20 years ago, and to me the situation seems even more dire today. "Where
once there were places, we find nonplaces," Oldenburg wrote. "In real places, the human being is a person. He or she is an
individual, unique and possessing character. In nonplaces, individuality disappears. In nonplaces, character is irrelevant
and one is only the customer or shopper, client or patient, a body to be seated, an address to be billed, a car to be
parked."
Lupe and his wife Sid loved those places instinctively. Artistic types, they met when she sang backup for Lupe’s rock band,
The Basics. Married late in life and childless, they hung out at places such as the Last Concert Cafe, Brasil, Onion Creek and
Cafe Artiste — places that seem particularly precious in Houston, places with personalities, places that, if they
disappeared, would leave a hole in their regulars’ lives. (Earlier this year, when Cafe Artiste did close down, grief
counseling seemed in order. For weeks a group of devotees brought their own coffee to the restaurant parking lot and
drank it together outside the locked doors.)
A couple of years ago, as Lupe contemplated turning 50, he began casting about for something more meaningful than his
IT job for a Houston software company. Sid, who’d worked in restaurants and hotels, warned him that it’s far more fun to
frequent a place like the cafes he loved than to run one. But eventually, he won her over.
Now two years old, Bohemeo’s has as much soul as any of its inspirations. Tucked in back of the Tlaquepaque Market,
Bohemeo’s building is painted in hot Mexican colors — bright pink and yellow — but its name is spelled out with lowercase
cool, in a sans serif font that would make a Scandinavian graphic designer proud. Every month or so, there’s new art on
the walls. Every night except Mondays, the Web site calendar lists at least one event — bands, poetry readings, open
mikes.
Lupe and Sid chose the Eastside because, like lots of artists, it’s what they can afford. Their menu reflects their vision of
the neighborhood: Chai, shiraz and soy mayo consort comfortably with burgers, Bud and chicken wings, and nothing costs
more than $7. Premium coffees, like the Antigua Filly Estate, cost $1.50. A "bag o’ cookies," aimed at kids, is $1.
Slowly, says Lupe, the place has been developing tribes of regulars. People who come for the bands. Students from the
University of Houston, Texas Southern and Houston Community College. A white-collar weekday lunch crowd. Kids from
Austin High, who he lets hang around even when they don’t buy anything — unless they’re cutting class, that is, or
annoying other customers. But usually, he says, they’re great. And where else are they going to hang out?
Hanging out, it seems, is a large part of the business model. Lupe and Sid encourage all their customers to stay long after
they’ve finished their lattes. Coffee shops such as Starbucks thrive on to-go orders and turning tables over quickly, but
Bohemeo’s isn’t aiming for high-volume efficiency.
Lupe says he wants it to be a "cool little place." It won’t make him rich. But if it can at least support them, he says, he and
Sid will have "cool little lives."
Can Bohemeo’s survive? Lupe and Sid aren’t sure. They’re tired of working 15- and 16-hour days, seven days a week,
because they can’t afford more help. But even in this lousy economy, when mighty Starbucks is struggling, they continue
to grow bit by bit. Lupe says he wants to work next on developing a weekend brunch crowd. He imagines professionals
from nearby Eastwood, the Eastside’s version of the Heights, reading newspapers and sucking down free WiFi.
Tlaquepaque Market recently added tenants that might generate more foot traffic — Houston Institute for Culture/Museo
Guadalupe Aztlan, an art gallery, and the EastEnd Urban Market, a weekend purveyor of furniture and objects from
Mexico. Lupe likes thinking of the shopping center, with Thai restaurant Kanomwan, is becoming a place where
Houstonians might walk — walk! — from one spot to another.
Could such a lovely thing survive in Houston? And, in particular, on the Eastside, which is even more car-crazy than the
rest of the city? Can Telephone Road support an artsy place to talk?
"There’s more of them!" Lupe said suddenly. He pointed his chin toward parrots — this time, a whole flock flying past.
"I thought there were only two," I said.
"Irma’s parrots bred. These new ones, they’re entirely wild. There’s at least 10 of them."
Ten? I was doubtful again, so I counted. As I reached 10, more appeared. Fifteen, I counted. Twenty. I hit 22 before the
unlikely birds disappeared from sight — more than I’d thought possible, more than I’d dared to hope.
lisa.gray@chron.com
THE ART OF TEXAS
In the historic East End, I found the Tlaquepaque Market, a piece of neighborhood
shopping history that is now being revived as a cultural magnet. Here, local
musicians Lupe and Sid Olivares (a husband and wife team, Sid is the lady) have
opened Bohemeo's, a coffee house/restaurant that's gaining a reputation as a live
music venue,and local art gallery. There's a large outdoor patio where you can sit
and drink coffee and look back towards the downtown skyline.
In the historic East End, I found the Tlaquepaque Market, a piece of neighborhood
shopping history that is now being revived as a cultural magnet. Here, local
musicians Lupe and Sid Olivares (a husband and wife team, Sid is the lady) have
opened Bohemeo's, a coffee house/restaurant that's gaining a reputation as a live
music venue,and local art gallery. There's a large outdoor patio where you can sit
and drink coffee and look back towards the downtown skyline.
