Community Spotlight: The Fight for Hudson's Future

Hudson is a city constantly reinventing itself by committee. The unending din of passionate socio-political argument has, over recent decades, reforged the 19th-century-whaling-port-turned-blue-collar-factory town, first into an antiques mecca at the turn of this century, then an arts hub, and now—a kind of mishmash, boho-chic, progressive playground, where commerce and culture blend into an overwhelming but vibrant tourism spectacle. All of it layered on top of a fiercely territorial and opinionated populace that seems to both love and hate the place in equal measure.

Rife with political turmoil, skyrocketing cultural clout, and a growing chorus of civic voices clashing over development, Hudson is living through one of the most consequential and charged chapters in its modern history. But for some reason it seems the conflict, the unease, the contradictions, are actually the secret sauce that makes Hudson so appealing for those looking to visit or live in a place that still feels real.

Hudson Portrait Pop-Up 2025

The Ouroboros of Local Governance

One of the most contentious arguments Hudson is having with itself presently revolves around gravel truck traffic at the city’s deep water port on the Hudson River. The ongoing dispute over A. Colarusso & Sons’ truck access to the dock entered a pivotal new stage this summer, as the operator is reapplying for a special use permit. The city has become divided between those who wish to put conditions on the dusty, smoggy, loud activity in the South Bay, and those who feel Colarusso’s past work to get the trucks off a route through the city’s most underserved neighborhood was concession enough.

At Basilica Hudson, cofounders Melissa Auf der Maur and Tony Stone run a popular arts and event space in a former factory across the railroad tracks from the port. “The waterfront is our front yard,” says Auf der Maur, who has been raising alarm about the environmental impact of the dock activity for years. “We are stewards of it, not spectators.”

Developer Ben Fain, who has big plans for the waterfront district, including a new Hawthorne Valley-run supermarket, a hotel, and much needed housing, says he loves Hudson but the volume of the gravel shipping activity is a serious impediment to his investment. He says the waterfront is “the shared soul of the city.”

It’s a soul Hudson’s mayor will be tasked with defending, but come November that may not be the job of incumbent Kamal Johnson. The once-celebrated progressive homegrown wunderkind is now viewed by many in his own party as an establishment insider.

Recently a Hudson building was tagged with anti-Johnson messages accusing him of questionable ties to the city’s largest property owner, Eric Galloway and his Galvan Foundation, the mayor’s landlord. Johnson posted photos on Instagram of himself smiling in front of the graffiti before it was removed.

In June, Johnson lost the Democratic primary to Joe Ferris, a newcomer who has made sharp critiques of opaque city processes. The primary didn’t end the race, however. Johnson remains on the ballot on the Working Families Party line. Meanwhile, Republican Lloyd Koedding, known for his winsomely disheveled look and eccentric, hand-scrawled policy missives, has become something of an anarchic meme for a discontented electorate.

Speaking of Memes

While it’s normal to see big-name celebrities in Hudson—it’s not uncommon to find yourself in a coffee shop staring at the saddle-brown forehead and gleaming white teeth of Walton Goggins—perhaps the most popular local presence is the Hudson Wail, an anonymous Instagram account posting memes that skewer the city’s foibles. The Wail, whoever they may be, clearly has an encyclopedic understanding of Hudson history and political systems, and manages to thread a difficult needle; being critical, caring, and funny all at the same time. “I think that the beauty is in the balance,” they say. “Make fun of everyone. You don’t have to beat people over the head with your ideas. If you bring attention to things, rational people come to their own conclusions. People interpret my stuff in different ways and I like that.”

Bard College and the Galvan Gift

In a surprise turn of events, Bard College has recently waded into the city’s messy real estate development waters, a quagmire filled with plans and projects undergoing intense public scrutiny. Bard is undergoing a due diligence process to assess a major gift of dozens of properties from the Galvan Foundation, a developer whose footprint and tactics in Hudson have long been both influential and controversial.

The portfolio includes a mix of commercial, residential, and public-use buildings, among them the Hudson Area Library, community spaces, and housing units. The announcement triggered a swift response. Ferris called it “the opportunity for a new chapter in Hudson,” suggesting it could present a chance to align local development with civic partnership rather than private control. At the same time, the Hudson/Catskill Housing Coalition urged an “immediate pause on the transaction until transparent, public conversations take place.”

If it proceeds, Bard will become a major player in Hudson’s physical and civic landscape, inheriting stewardship of some of the city’s most vital community landmarks. As with the waterfront debate, residents are left to wrestle with questions of ownership, influence, and the public good.

Culture with Consequence

Political theater may be fundamental to Hudson’s identity but so too is regular theater, dance, music, and art in all its forms. At Hudson Hall, the historic opera house-turned-cultural hub, the fall season will bring chamber concerts, avant-garde performances, and residencies that merge art with civic conversation. Down by the dusty docks, Basilica Hudson fills its cavernous space with experimental programming, from the return of SoundScape (September 19-20) to an expanded Farm & Flea (November 21-23) making it as much an arts showcase as a marketplace.

Other spaces, like the gritty and uncompromising Time & Space Limited, keep Hudson’s artistic edge sharp with independent films, radical theater, and public forums. Along Warren Street, galleries such as Carrie Haddad, Susan Eley Fine Art, Turley, Limner, and Front Room present everything from conceptual installations to finely crafted painting and sculpture. Together, these venues, and many others, create a cultural ecosystem where art is never just background decoration, but an active force in shaping the culture.

Creative Commerce and Cuisine

This summer saw the long-awaited reopening of the Hudson Diner, a stainless steel temple to greasy spoon Americana. A collaboration between Ashley Berman of Mel the Bakery and Brent Young of the Meat Hook, the project reclaims a beloved uptown landmark (once the Diamond Street Diner, then Grazin’) with new energy and old-school charm.

“It’s the dream, right?” Berman says. “We wanted to keep that neighborhood feel while adding something beautiful, respectful, and really delicious.”

The menu is hearty, smart, and built on local sourcing. Think Greek-style half chickens, chop steak, grass-fed burgers, fried shrimp, decadent desserts, and cocktails. “We weren’t trying to make it retro. We wanted to make it real,” says Berman, who’s the business half of the Mel the Bakery team with baker Nora Allen. Opening here less than two years ago, Mel has itself already become an addictive, glutinous landmark.

Down by the river, across from the Amtrak train station, Hudson’s vital umbilicus to Manhattan, Kitty’s, has become a staple business as well—a cafe, specialty grocer, and inventive restaurant serving dishes from Vietnamese-coffee glazed crullers to beef cheek ragu.

Choices for fine dining options have never been as robust here as they are now. Swoon Kitchenbar is celebrating its 20th anniversary and still stuns with its seasonal, elegant menus, and Wm. Farmer & Sons, a swanky inn and restaurant, is a style guide for contemporary Hudson’s upscale rustic aesthetic. As is The Maker, with its luxuriously manicured hotel, lounge, restaurant, and gym.

The culinary scene in Hudson is refreshingly diverse, too. Once the new kid in town, after almost 10 years and a couple James Beard Award nominations, Lil’ Deb’s Oasis has become a tropical, queer, performance art shrine to gorgeous gay gastronomy. Little Rico, serves up soulful Puerto Rican classics in approachable and surprisingly healthy ways, and a small wave of high-quality Mexican restaurants including Casa Latina, La Mision, and El Sabor de Oaxaca add traditional, subregional flavors to the mix, providing spaces to celebrate the local hispanic community.

There’s also been a bit of a beer boom in recent years, with four breweries setting up shop. Return Brewing, Upper Depot Brewing Co., Union Street Brewing Co., and Hudson Brewing Company have turned Hudson beer into a cottage industry, each bringing distinctive styles, seasonal releases, and spaces for events.

Hudson’s retail life mirrors its cultural one—historic, creative, and constantly shifting. Longtime fixtures like Lili and Loo, with its worldly homewares, and the ever-eclectic Five and Diamond vintage shop still draw loyal customers and curious newcomers. John Doe Records, run by founder Dan Seward, remains an offbeat, sweaty sanctuary for vinyl obsessives and all the weird, old heads who put Hudson on the map in the first place.

The antiques business that pulled the city out of the economic doldrums post 9/11 still thrives too. Stair Galleries’ high-profile auctions, which have featured estates from Joan Didion to Keith Richards, have long been major events, and stalwarts like Arenskjold Antiques, Neven & Neven Moderne, and the White Whale Limited are just a few of the shops that color the city with both high-style and rusty-rustic patinated ambiance.

Even as demographics shift and rents rise, the blend of old-guard dealers and new-wave entrepreneurs keeps the streetscape as checkered as the city’s history. Here, commerce isn’t just about what’s bought and sold, it’s about what endures.

There is a mythic romantic quality to Hudson that’s hard to define. Even now, as the city appears more civilized than ever, it retains its ungovernable spirit just below the surface. According to the Hudson Wail, “the cracks in the sidewalks aren’t the flaw, they’re the story.”