Town Weds Single Tax, Crafts Movement in Quest for Utopia

About midway between Wilmington and Philadelphia, scarcely a minute’s drive from the interstate highway that is Main Street for the megalopolis, lies a woodsy world built on utopian dreams.

Here, in the hamlet of Arden, artisans forge their livings from slabs of Pennsylvania basalt and spindles of Honduran mahogany. Children frolic in a greenbelt dubbed Sherwood Forest, while their parents march across village greens to stage sold-out performances of Shakespearean classics in the community’s amphitheater.

Residents govern themselves in New England-style town meetings, enforcing a unique charter that is the legacy of a largely forgotten economist. In Arden, no resident owns the land surrounding his bungalow or cottage, but everyone pools money to pay the county real estate taxes.

This peculiar lifestyle, so counter to much of the mid-Atlantic’s faceless suburban sprawl, is shaped by the curious marriage of two 19th-century philosophies: an economic theory called the “single tax” and the social doctrine known as the arts and crafts movement. Those who have embraced Arden’s way of life since its founding nearly a century ago have always drawn skeptical notice from outsiders.

“We’re not only Communists, we’re anarchists and nudists,” says Beverly Barnett, who has lived in Arden for more than two decades. “I can’t think of a name that hasn’t been said.”

Although Arden residents say that whispered suggestions of free love and radical politics were always untrue--or at least wild exaggerations--they do see themselves as unconventional, forward thinkers whose ideas may not be so off the wall.

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Consider: In several localities these days, officials are embracing versions of the single-tax theory--which favors taxing land, rather than buildings--in an effort to spur development.

And planners throughout the nation are urging a rejection of typical suburban subdivisions and a return to “neo-traditional” villages. For some, Arden is the embodiment of such a place.

“It’s a revolt against the typical suburban nothingness,” says Aaron Hamburger, a retired chemical engineer from DuPont’s Wilmington headquarters and president of the Arden Club, the community’s social hub. “Maybe we can serve as a model or laboratory for other folks.”

The cornerstone of the Arden lifestyle is the single-tax theory. The principle, advanced more than a century ago by economist and philosopher Henry George, holds that land and only land should be taxed. To tax homes, factories or other fruits of man’s labor is a disincentive to ingenuity and efficiency.

Arden was founded in 1900 by sculptor Frank Stephens and architect Will Price, two “Georgists” from Philadelphia who set out to show how one town could operate under the single-tax system. An abandoned 162-acre farm in the Brandywine Valley was purchased, and Arden was born.

From day 1, Arden homeowners have leased their lots from a nonprofit trust that owns all the town’s land. In the decades that followed, two neighboring communities, Ardentown and Ardencroft, were developed under similar systems.

That’s not to say that everyone who has moved here--including many white-collar professionals hungry for a sense of sharing and community--knows precisely what they have bought into.

“Even though 75% of the residents in the town don’t understand the single tax, it still makes the town what it is,” says Mark Taylor, a woodworker from Arden who has studied Henry George’s theories. His girlfriend, Sadie Somerville, an art gallery owner, says the system encourages neighbors to bond. For instance, residents gather at the Arden Club for Saturday night dinners most weeks of the year.

“People have a better sense of being together and sharing,” she says. “If you don’t, you have your own yard, your own pool, your own dog, and you don’t go beyond your border.”

Hamburger, the Arden Club president, says artists continue to make up a large portion of the population. A census a few years ago showed that as many as 70 are among its residents.

This influence can be seen in many Arden homes, whose owners treat them as works of art.

Rachel Grier-Reynolds lives in one of the oldest, a bungalow dubbed “The Monastery.” When she and her husband moved in, they painted the window trim royal blue and aqua, inspired by the seas of Bermuda.

She then painted the ceiling of her front porch with metallic blue auto body paint and yellow stars, to remind her of the big skies of her childhood home at the Delaware seashore. She plans to add pieces from a shattered mirror to further the illusion of night sky.

“To me, that’s the fun of having [the house], making it unique to me,” she says. “It is an artistic statement.”

Taylor and Somerville live in one of the more interesting homes, a Tudor cottage with a tower that earned it the nickname “The Castle.” On their lot is a small structure, formerly an apartment, now Taylor’s wood shop. There, he turns mahogany spindles into gate legs for tables, keeping alive the arts and crafts tradition established by the town fathers.

The arts and crafts movement, which rebelled against abuses of the Industrial Age by seeking a working life centered on the creative arts and traditional crafts, was as central to Arden’s founders’ philosophy as the desire for economic justice.

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Besides establishing a weave shop and iron forge, they sought to instill art into everyday activities, especially the design and furnishing of homes. Shakespearean dramas became a center of village life--and allowed early residents pushing the single-tax theory to hone their oratorical skills.

Cecilia Vore, who heads the club’s Shakespearean productions, says: “Here in Arden, people are always up for doing things--’Hey, let’s do a poetry reading!’ ‘Fine, I’ll bring the coffee.’

“People aren’t afraid of making fools of themselves. . . . It’s nice for the kids to see that so-and-so is a potter, and so-and-so works for DuPont, but he also enjoys acting.”

Rick Rothrock, a stone sculptor, and his wife, Sue, a painter, say the town seemed like a natural place for them to live.

“At first, I couldn’t tell whether it was a refuge or an asylum,” says Rick Rothrock, who keeps a gantry and winch in his driveway, where he turns slabs of stone into sculptures that sell for up to $8,000. “Arden is distinctly different from any other suburban neighborhood I can think of.”

Alan Burslem, a renowned potter, grew up in Arden and still lives there. “Everything about it: the setting, the people, the way they work toward community,” he says. “It’s just a creative atmosphere to work in.”

Not that just any struggling artist can afford to live in Arden. In recent years, demand has risen--and so have prices.

“Thirty years ago [homes were] cheap, maybe even 20 years ago,” says real estate agent Janet Cosgrove. “Arden had a bit of a stigma. It was junky-looking to some people.”

Now, she says, homes sell for as much as $300,000.

The single-tax concept does have its detractors in the Ardens. As recently as September, one Ardencroft resident challenged the system in court, complaining: “I don’t think it’s proper I should be asked to subsidize anyone else’s property tax.”

But after a day’s worth of “intellectually stimulating” explanations of Georgian theory, New Castle County Superior Court Judge Jerome O. Herlihy upheld the Ardens’ century-old system.

“It is clear in the court’s view that the uniqueness of Ardencroft was known, is known and has been accepted by a lot of people for a long time,” the judge said.

Barnett, the Arden resident, agrees: “We are utopians. We think that by this shared ownership of the land, the world could be saved.”