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RING MY BELL
Philadelphia is America's next urban hot spot. Here’s a little history lesson on how the city went from the Liberty Bell and the constitution to designer threads and electric cocktails.

Text: AMY ROSEN

1 | 2 | 3 | SEP 03

Marvin’s challenge "Whatcha doing? What are your plans? Where you girls off to?" asks Marvin Factor, our amiable host at the Inn on Locust, as my friend Miriam and I plunk down our carry-ons at the highly wired boutique hotel.

"We’re planning on having a weekend in New York City – but in Philadelphia," I inform him.

"Okay, but we’re clearly better than NYC," says Marvin. "We have everything they have, minus the crush of people and the traffic and intensity." He says Philly is a livable low-rise city, unlike New York with its imposing skyscrapers. The pace is slower here. "And because of it, the people are that much nicer. Now go try a cheesesteak."

You never forget your first combo The newly cool South Street strip of trendy boutiques, overly pierced skater kids and good eats is home to Jim’s Steaks at 4th and South, where the weekend lineup snakes clear around the block. We join the queue because anything with a lineup this long has got to be good. Inside, it’s strictly old-school Philly: Since 1937, these grizzled line cooks have been slopping out heaps of Grade A top round, translucent fried onions and cheese (in the form of Whiz, American or provolone) into soft buns to adoring fans and celebrities. The white-tiled walls are lined with awards, autographs and photos, including a particularly disturbing one of a young Larry King skydiving while eating one of their trademark specials. A wooden plaque at the entrance says, "Record Holder Alix Friedman: 12 sandwiches in 11/2 hours." The mind boggles.

The place is controlled chaos, with cashiers shouting orders and fry cooks glopping on Cheez Whiz. The stomach churns. Yet my first cheesesteak is a messy heap of nirvana in waxed paper. As delicious as it is, over the next few days, cheesesteaks from both Pat’s and Geno’s (near the Italian Market), as well as Reading Terminal Market, will prove to be serious rivals. As we’re leaving Jim’s, I overhear one teenager brag to another, "I was here last night, I’m here today, and I’ll be back again tomorrow." Imagine, 64 years on, and the kids still can’t get enough.

From city slum to Society Hill In a bid to walk off the delicious weight in our bellies, we head to Washington Square, one of the city’s many residential green spaces studded with historic structures and memorials. As we’re admiring a row of restored homes, a man, mistaking us for lost, approaches with his big black dog. "You girls need some directions?" asks the dog walker, who turns out to be local developer Howard Lander.

"No, but we just saw Ben Franklin walking by," I reply, referring to an actor in period regalia – a common sight on the streets of Philadelphia.

"Yeah, that happens," he says. "Stand here long enough, and you’ll also see Betsy Ross and Thomas Jefferson. You know, Ben Franklin actually designed my house. Over there," he points across the tree-lined cobblestone street. "It even had a two-seater outhouse, which doesn’t really make much sense."

We follow Howard to Washington Park as he walks and talks, stoops and scoops, and describes how this upscale Society Hill neighbourhood was a slum no more than 25 years ago. In the mid-1970s, city planners took back blocks of these historic yet dilapidated row houses as part of an urban renewal program. The city, explains Howard, was looking to revitalize the Old City and sold off the homes for a few thousand dollars each with strict instructions to buyers: "Fix it up or ship out." Those who did invest in costly, historically accurate renovations made a wise decision: These homes now average a cool million.

Living in harmony Avenue of the Arts is the pet name for the wide north-south boulevard of Broad Street in the city centre, which has long attracted popular theatre venues and renowned music schools. In December 2001, the Avenue of the Arts kicked up its reputation one more notch. Move over Lincoln Center and Kennedy Center. Roll over Beethoven. Say hello to Philly’s US$265-million cultural extravaganza, the 3,150-seat Kimmel Center. The opening night celebration was a fundraising concert by Elton John (including, naturally, a raucous rendition of "Philadelphia Freedom"), and the $5,000 tickets sold out in a week.

This city truly supports the arts, and you see it everywhere. A mentoring and arts program turned a 1980s graffiti problem into 2,200 downtown murals. Philadelphia was a pioneer in public art funding and now has more of it than any other American city – from the famous brotherly LOVE sculpture to statues of founding father William Penn and hometown hero Rocky.

Although the Kimmel Center is smack dab in the middle of a history-rich city, this is not your grandma’s opera house. Designed by Rafael Viñoly Architects of New York, the vaulted steel-and-glass rooftop soars above the sexy curves of its cherry-wood and slate interior. There are two performance halls, no right angles, and the warm wood-slatted walls can be acoustically "tuned" by rotating them. After taking in a superb Saturday night concert by the Philadelphia Orchestra, I can see why the city has embraced the Kimmel. It’s a wonderful place to be.

1 | 2 | 3 | SEP 03