Montrose area to lose a little bit of heart
Corazon craft shop, which sells folk art and trinkets from Latin America, will shut its doors after its land sells to developers for $500,000
T he Montrose craft shop Corazon endured much over the last 20 years, from eight car crashes damaging the walls to multiple hurricanes battering it with wind and rain. But the eclectic store under the rainbow-colored sign, known for hand-selected folk art and trinkets imported from Latin America, could not survive the relentless demand for close-in real estate in Houston. The property at Waugh and Fairview was sold to developers earlier this year for $500,000, real estate agent Robert Martinez of Greenberg and Co. said. The metal building will be demolished to make way for townhomes.
That will be the end for a building that over the years housed a blacksmith shop, a general store, an antique store, a furniture refinishing store and a glass-blowing studio. As Corazon, it became a local icon and a temptation to curious passers-by. The store decorated with creatively cut tissue paper, or
papel picado, has been well regarded by its neighbors.
“It’s a Montrose staple,” lamented customer Antonio “Geronimo” Villalobos, owner of Campesino Coffeehouse down the street. “I’m going to miss it.”
Chris Murphy first opened the shop in 1997 on Montrose Boulevard at the site of the former Gramercy Apartments. A year later, while biking past the Waugh and Fairview corner, a hand-painted cardboard “for rent” sign caught his eye.
Friends tried to dissuade Murphy from moving in, calling the corner “the middle of nowhere” and pointing out how the building, already worn with time, was leaning.
Murphy disregarded them and took a year’s lease for $650 a month. Given months to search for a new location, he said he has not found affordable rent inside Loop 610.
Jason Baker, principal at commercial real estate firm Baker Katz, said that as more residents look for homes closer to the urban core, commercial land prices continue to grow.
“We’re seeing land values right now that we’ve never seen before,” he said.
The consequence is little to no interest in developing single-level retail like Corazon, which Baker said adds character to the city.
Customers say Murphy is a character himself.
A native Houstonian, Murphy thought he’d never return to Houston after he left for college at the University of Texas. After graduation he joined a traveling circus, tutoring the teenage children of performers and looking after performing poodles. He returned to Houston with a part-time gig at a separate imported artisan craft store, where he picked up the trade.
For years Murphy has built up his store’s inventory traveling to Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador and South American countries where he bought traditional items directly from artisans and collectives.
Store shelves and walls display colorful luchador masks, ceramic jaguars, handmade jewelry, woven bags and wooden block letters by renowned Salvadoran artist Fernando Llort.
Calling himself a “reluctant merchant,” Murphy said he has little interest in promoting consumerism, but he’s found that selling crafts allows him to promote cultures he loves.
Though sales never boomed, Murphy generated steady revenue over the years through a combination of walk-in and online purchases. In recent years, e-commerce took its toll on his business as well as other retailers big and small.
He hopes that by yearend he’ll be out of inventory after hosting a series of clearance sales. Remaining product, and his bestselling guayaberas, will be sold online through the store’s website.
On a recent afternoon, friend and longtime customer Ben Hernandez walked in with a worried look on his face and asked Murphy if it was the final day. He hadn’t heard of the extended reprieve the landowners had given him.
With a sigh of relief, Hernandez asked Murphy about his weekend. The two men carried on their conversation under decorative flags Murphy pinned up from his time visiting members of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation in Chiapas,