On a bitter winter day three years ago, Tom Krueger walked into a long-vacant church on Wurts Street in Kingston for an informal tour and felt an immediate pull. The building had been empty for years, its future uncertain, its interior frozen in time. “I’m walking through the place and every bone in my body was saying yes,” Krueger recalls. While touring the space, he spotted water gushing through floorboards in the basement—a frozen pipe had burst. Not knowing how to contact the owners, he knew he needed to act. He paid a plumber out of pocket to stop the flooding. “It had to be done,” he says. “No one else was going to do it.”
That instinct—to step in, to take responsibility before everything is fully figured out—has shaped the slow, steady emergence of Tempo Performing Arts Center, which officially opens February 13 with an inaugural concert by the Swedish folk duo Vasen and the Canadian string ensemble The Fretless. Housed in a former church in Kingston’s Rondout neighborhood just steps from the Wurts Street Suspension Bridge, Tempo is a new nonprofit venue devoted to music and dance, with ambitions that extend well beyond concerts.
Krueger himself has a physical presence that mirrors the space he’s brought into being. Tall and thin, with long salt-and-pepper hair and a slightly rumpled air, he rarely stands still. When he led me through Tempo on a cold January afternoon, he moved ahead in quick bursts—small hops, sudden turns, an almost dancerly way of navigating doorways and staircases—like someone thinking with his whole body. He talked while walking, gesturing, doubling back to point something out, his energy buoyant and lightly restless, as if the building were pulling him forward from room to room. It gave the impression of a delighted jester, pleased not just with what he was showing, but with the act of moving through it at all.
Krueger’s path to Tempo was indirect. A musician, dancer, filmmaker, and cinematographer, he had long been looking for a place to work—something communal, flexible, and rooted in live, creative exchange. Around the same time, the church was moving through a series of stalled plans. Its owners had considered turning it into a residence. Sloop Clearwater briefly explored making it their headquarters, then demurred. When Krueger first toured the space with local musician and unofficial neighborhood ambassador Peter Wetzler, the timing aligned. Within a year—after months of conversations, planning, and nonprofit logistics—the building was donated to the newly formed Tempo organization, with guidance from the Ashokan Center, where Krueger had served on the board for eight years.
The main hall seats 300, with flexible seating allowing the room to shift between concerts, dances, and other events. A sprung floor—installed directly over the existing one—supports both dancers and musicians. Downstairs, former church rooms have been converted into rehearsal spaces, classrooms, and gathering areas. The furnishings are informal, many sourced secondhand. “People kept saying it felt like a lounge,” Krueger says of the downstairs. “That helped clarify what we were aiming for—a place that feels welcoming and lived-in.”
A Three-Part Misson
Tempo’s mission has three main components. The first is performance, with an emphasis on live music and dance rooted in traditional forms and contemporary practice. Programming leans toward folk traditions from around the world, experimental work, and forms that foreground human interaction—string instruments, voices, bodies in motion. To keep performances accessible, Tempo uses a tiered ticketing system, with lower-cost community tickets alongside standard and supporter options.
The second component is education and community use. Classes in dance and music are already underway downstairs, including swing, tap, and flatfooting, with more planned. Community groups can rent the space at reduced rates, with the understanding that affordability extends to participants as well. “If we’re helping you,” Krueger says, “we expect that to be passed on.”
The third pillar—artist residencies—is still taking shape. The adjacent parsonage, a 3,000-square-foot building that had been abandoned for decades, is now under renovation and will eventually house visiting artists as well as Krueger himself. The long-term vision is to offer musicians and dancers a place to work, rehearse, and develop new material, with opportunities to present it at Tempo. Advisory conversations are ongoing, drawing on local artists and organizers with experience running residency programs.
An Interactive Sculpture
Krueger is open about the challenges. For much of the past three years, he has worked without pay, while covering expenses and overseeing renovations. Operational grants and individual donors now help cover basic costs, and staff are beginning to come on board. Laura Crimmins, formerly of O+, has joined as events coordinator, and Sarah Bissonette-Adler is serving as managing director. Krueger himself holds the dual role of executive and artistic director.
That structure reflects both necessity and temperament. “I think of it as an interactive sculpture,” he says. “Something that responds to the people who come through it.” He is careful about programming decisions, balancing openness with the need to define Tempo’s identity. “If it fits, yes,” he says. “If it doesn’t, I have to say no—even when that’s hard.”
The building itself plays an active role. The church’s historic organ, dating from the turn of the 20th century, has been restored and is now fully functional. Bard College organist Renee Anne Loupret has been instrumental in bringing it back into use, and recent performances have demonstrated its range and power. Across the street, Cornell Park offers additional performance possibilities. The city has expressed interest in supporting outdoor programming there in the park’s natural amphitheater, with Tempo serving as a nearby indoor option when needed.
A Flowering of New Performance Spaces
Tempo’s opening arrives amid a broader expansion of small-to-midsize performance spaces in the Hudson Valley, including St. Rita’s Music Room and Savage Wonder in Beacon, the Stissing Center in Pine Plains (and it’s soon-to-open Grace Note speakeasy), The Ellis in Newburgh, the Indigo Room at the Mahaiwe Performing Arts Center, Assembly in Kingston, and the Lucky Dog Listening Room in Beacon. Together, they reflect a growing appetite for venues that prioritize intimacy, experimentation, and direct engagement between artists and audiences.
For Krueger, the project also marks a personal transition. As work in film and cinematography becomes more precarious, music and dance offer a different kind of continuity. “I can play music every day,” he says. “I can dance with someone and be fully present.” That emphasis on listening—on responsiveness—runs through Tempo’s design and programming.
Asked what Tempo will look like in five years, Krueger is cautious. “We’re still figuring out what it wants to be,” he says. “The community will tell us. The city will tell us. The artists will tell us.” For now, the focus is on opening the doors, hosting people, and letting the space begin to do its work.
