DELIGHTFUL DETROIT
American city is in the midst of a renaissance.
DESPITE the tour guide’s offer, no one dare raise a note.
Half an hour ago, we were tourists on the sidewalk, taking photographs of a building so modest it seemed entirely at odds with its status as the seed-bed of one of the most important movements in the history of modern music.
Now here we are, huddled together in a small room at 2648 West Grand Boulevard in Detroit, Michigan, shuffling awkwardly as an enthusiastic guide offers one of us the chance to follow in the footsteps of Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, The Supremes, The Vandellas, The Temptations and The Miracles.
Used to the hesitancy, our guide pipes up instead, delivering a full-throated round of Martha Reeves’ Dancing In The Street up into the open attic space on the first floor, evoking Motown’s famous echo chamber sound. Her audience applauds, and the tour moves on, into the flat next door where, in 1959, founder Berry Gordy Jr sat at a small table packaging the first pressings from the record label that would go on to define the sound of young, black America. Hitsville USA is now a museum to Motown, a brilliantly-preserved time-capsule tribute to the music emanating from Studio
A, a repurposed garage rear of this once-inconspicuous family home in Motor City.
The tour is laden with facts both about Motown’s sound and impact on American society.
Many of the instruments in the studio are originals – the 1877 Steinway grand piano, whose keys spawned a lifetime of hits, was once in such a state of disrepair that it was unplayable.
But, our guide tells us, a certain Mr P Mccartney footed the bill to have it fixed. We gaze in awe at these instruments that defined the sound of an era, and she guides us out to the gift shop.
But I’m not finished here...
Detroit has a vibrant, chequered history. Historically considered the car manufacturing capital of the world, its fortunes have risen and fallen like the suspension on an SUV, booming and busting. Following the 2008 economic collapse, the strength of Detroit’s recovery has now become a draw for visitors, keen to sense the city’s latest revival.
A bike tour along the trailways of the smart riverwalk area, with Canada just few hundred yards across the water, takes us past red brick warehouses and factories, to where graffiti artists have transformed concrete underpasses into eye-popping al-fresco galleries.
The towering Wurlitzer
Building (the one-time office of the Wurlitzer Organ Co, now the trendy Siren Hotel) and the David Whitney Building (a stunning slab of boomtime build, now home to our beds at the Aloft Hotel) are just two reminders of the golden age of ’20s architecture.
After dinner at Angelino’s Italian Bistro, we jump in a cab to the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA). Its halls and corridors are bustling with visitors kicking off their weekend by hanging out with some of the city’s finest cultural jewels.
The DIA’S free Friday initiative is a masterstroke, enticing a whole city – not just its tourists – to engage with its world-class collection including originals by Van Gogh, Gauguin and Cezanne. Detroit might be famed for its techno and soul music, but a visit to Cliff Bell’s jazz bar for a nightcap delivers a quintessentially American experience, with the coolest of jazz cats in session under moody low lights.
Those who prefer their music on a larger scale will find the city’s famous Fillmore Theatre round the block, worth a visit even just to peek at its ornate decor.
Fittingly, our plans for Motor City include a road trip out of town, taking in visits to Lake Michigan, the sleepy arts haven of Saugatuck, apple pressing at Dexter’s Cider Mill, the popular Art Prize, a massive public art exhibition in the city of Grand Rapids, and a tour of Ann Arbour, a traditional college town and seat of the University of Michigan. We even swap wheels for waves to kayak down the Kalamazoo River as cross-continental freight trains rumble along the riverbank.
Our whistle-stop trip leaves a taste for a return, as there’s plenty to go back for. And going back is what I did at the end of that tour of Hitsville USA, briefly sneaking into Studio A to stand alone as the group hit the gift shop, lingering for a moment to feel the room’s history before offering a few lines in tribute to Smokey Robinson, my goosebumps rising with my voice as I sung.
And of all the memories from my visit to this resilient city, that’s the one I’ll treasure most.