F L A U N T
The gift of history is, of course, its lessons and insights. There’s also that rarer, sometimes spiritually special gift of history repeating itself. Bear witness, then, to this little stone church, which sits on South Trenton Avenue in the Pearl District of Tulsa, Oklahoma. It anchors a small city steeped in—and appreciative of—a complicated and quintessentially American history. This church lies at the heart of a neighborhood always somewhat ahead of the curve, even since its founding in the early 1900s. A neighborhood these days largely populated by those who accept music as a valid higher power, who tend to rent more than they own, and where you can enjoy a barrel-aged beer on tap should you feel so inclined.
The Pearl District, like many now revitalizing and reshaping neighborhoods in our urban centers, has seen many changes, evolutions, and occasional improvements over the years. The only constant has been the church. Yet the church itself has never known consistency. In its century-old lifespan, it has gone from a place of quiet worship to a bubbling hub for rock stars, to abandoned entirely. That is, until entrepreneur and historical preservationist Teresa Knox—a 4th generation Oklahoman—came along in 2016 and endeavored to make it a National Landmark.
What allowed for this prestigious and protected designation? Not its origins as Grace Methodist Episcopal Church in 1915, or later First United Brethren Church, then First Evangelical United Brethren Church, and lastly First Church of God. No, this designation came about given its having borne extraordinary witness to Tulsa-native and musical icon, Leon Russell, and his collaborators—fondly called the Shelter People—a group of session musicians from Oklahoma that made their way to international recognition as originators of the highly regarded “Tulsa Sound.”
In 1972, Russell—who passed away the same year that Knox acquired the church, and enjoyed a 60-year career of multiple genres and involvement in numerous best-selling records—was back home sitting in a café alongside his (common law) wife, sharing a meal with his Mad Dogs and Englishmen co-producer and Shelter Records business partner Denny Cordell. He stared out through the cafe’s window at a “For Sale” sign in the decrepit church’s front lawn. Despite its ominous stone exterior, and certainly haunted halls (Eric Clapton would later confirm this), Russell walked over and bought it on the spot. Soon, a recording studio was installed, and out came Church Studio— a site used to record Russell and Cordell’s artists on their shared Shelter Records, names that would come to include luminaries like Tom Petty, JJ Cale, Dwight Twilley Band, The Gap Band and others who hung out and recorded like Willie Nelson, Jimmy Buffett, Kansas, and Stevie Wonder. In a short amount of time, Tulsa was one of the most important music hubs in America.
Whatever spiritual or sonic pull made Russell purchase the church sight unseen that day saw Knox similarly magnetized to it. For Knox, a lifelong Russell fan and memorabilia collector, it was also a way to honor his legacy. But finding out what exactly that meant, she learned, was the real task at hand. “After I started interviewing people,” she shares, “not only consultants that I needed to help me with the project, but the people that worked in the studio —people that were in Leon’s circle, the artists, and musicians —I realized that it needed to go back to being a recording studio. Recording studios probably aren’t the most profitable, because there are a lot of viable alternatives and substitute products to a formal recording studio, but I was so obsessed with it. The building was really speaking to me that it needed to go back.”
Five years later in 2021, the church is polished in all its early-century meets gothic glory, equipped with a fully functioning studio full of brand new and vintage analog gear. On site is also the Church Studio Archive featuring memorabilia almost exclusively collected and provided by Knox, and the Church Studio Music Foundation, a haven of sorts created to inform and engage the community and visitors alike on the Tulsa rock revival. Once an exclusive spot that only welcomed friends of Russell, interesting newbies, and pretty plus ones, Church Studio 2.0 promises to be less exclusive, yet will still offer luxurious accommodations for the legendary and local alike. And, as Knox had hoped for, the response from the public has been positive. Despite what she calls a “swanky affair” that comes with investing your trust and money in a Church Studio experience, the real return is in the power felt absorbing its unique holy history.
“Every artist that walks in is like, ‘Oh my gosh, if these walls could talk,’” Knox shares with a smile, “Some of them get chills. Several famous artists walk in, and they start weeping. It’s humbling to witness the emotion that comes out. That’s really what music is all about.” Similarly, during the new Church Studio Legacy Concert Series, which has so far hosted artists such as Kenny Loggins, Bill Champlin, and soon Jimmy Webb, a dry eye has yet to be spotted as the crowd shuffles out of the church doors at closing time.
The historical power of Tulsa is something unequivocal. Known as “The Oil Capital of the World” throughout much of the 20th century, earlier this year we observed the city’s painful centennial of the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921—marked by the LeBron James-executive produced documentary, Dreamland: The Burning of Black Wall Street. Yes, this town has known extraordinary boom, decline, righteousness, and rebound. At the core of all of this, though, is the gift of music. Thanks to Knox, a glittering new bow has been placed atop an ole’ faithful, securing it a rightful and permanent place in history. “There’s a lot of stuff happening in America and in the world,” Knox concludes, “with everything from the pandemic to the economy to partisan politics, but music is this universal language that brings everyone together no matter what, and I really want that to be the purpose of the church.” And she adds in the spirit of many intrepid Americans who have preceded her in taking remarkable risks, “I want the church to play a part in what brings us all together.”
Written by Gracie Williams
