Magazine

Saving the House That Gave Voice to Nina Simone

Rescued by a group of artists and restored with the National Trust for Historic Preservation, Simone's childhood home reemerges as a beacon of Black cultural memory
From left Ellen Gallagher Brent Leggs of the National Trust for Historic Preservation Adam Pendleton and Julie Mehretu...
From left: Ellen Gallagher, Brent Leggs of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, Adam Pendleton, and Julie Mehretu at Nina Simone’s childhood home in Tryon, North Carolina, which was purchased by the three artists with Rashid Johnson (not pictured) and restored in collaboration with the National Trust.

From her birth in 1933, to 1937, Eunice Kathleen Waymon, the musician and civil rights activist known to the world as Nina Simone, lived in a three-room, 650-square-foot house in Tryon, North Carolina, nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was here that her prodigious talent as a pianist first emerged, a gift that would later carry her far beyond the town of 1,700, where a downtown mural and a bronze statue now immortalize her local ties. Yet few outside Tryon have known that the white clapboard structure, which had fallen into disrepair, was once her family home. Today, after years of planning, fundraising, and careful restoration, the house is entering its next chapter as a site of inspiration for artists, thinkers, and stewards of Black cultural memory, with plans to open to visitors in the future.

It was late 2016 when painter Adam Pendleton first heard that Simone’s childhood home was on the market. The call to action was even more surprising: Would he consider buying it? Pendleton’s friend, the curator Laura Hoptman, who owns a home in the area, reached out to him hoping she could find a steward of sorts. At risk of demolition, the property was up for sale, and its future hung in the balance.

A view of the home from downhill a new ADAcompliant ramp has been added.

A view of the home from downhill; a new ADA-compliant ramp has been added.

The porchs ceiling was painted haint blue in keeping with regional customs.

The porch’s ceiling was painted haint blue in keeping with regional customs.

Pendleton mulled over whether, and how, to get involved. The famous final line from June Jordan’s 1978 “Poem for South African Women” echoed in his mind: We are the ones we have been waiting for. Recalls Pendleton, “I realized that the someone to spring into action, the someone to do something, was me.”

Pendleton connected with Rashid Johnson, who shared his deep admiration for Simone as both a musician and a radical thinker. Together, they reached out to fellow artists Julie Mehretu and Ellen Gallagher, envisioning a shared project that could expand the house and the story it held. “We all reconciled our enthusiasm and recognition of how these kinds of sites—these kinds of opportunities—provide things that sometimes are hard to articulate,” says Johnson. “Sometimes it’s just the feeling of being in a place that matters, and that tells the story of someone that matters.”

Simone performing circa 1960.

Simone performing, circa 1960.

Photo: George Pickow/Getty Images

In 2017, the group purchased the house together for $95,000. The decision to act as a collective of Black artists was more of a strategic partnership than a financial one. Pooling their names, networks, and perspectives, they wanted to signal that the preservation of Simone’s legacy was a shared cultural responsibility. The four then partnered with the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund, a division of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, which led the restoration effort and launched a long-term plan to safeguard the space for generations to come. The team is also exploring the space’s potential as a forum for performances and other programming.

“Our role was to ensure the home wasn’t just preserved, but protected forever as a living symbol of Nina Simone’s life,” says Brent Leggs, the Action Fund’s executive director and strategic advisor to the CEO of the National Trust. “And our vision was to create a singular place where her legacy will endure.”

One of the houses three rooms now restored.

One of the house’s three rooms, now restored.

The building itself, perched on brick pillars atop a gentle hill, is unassuming. Such sites can pose a challenge for preservationists, Leggs notes, as modest structures—even those that hold deep cultural and historical value—often don’t get the attention they deserve. With this project, he felt “we could shift the way that our nation respects and considers what is worthy of preservation.”

The thorough restoration worked to maintain as much of the home’s original fabric as possible. Stamped tin roof shingles were replicated and replaced; remnants of linoleum were preserved; and original pine walls and wood flooring were refinished. The porch ceiling was repainted in haint blue, a hue believed to ward off evil spirits, with roots in the traditions of the Gullah Geechee people, descendants of enslaved Africans in the American South. Modern systems, including geothermal heating, fire-suppression infrastructure, and an ADA-compliant ramp, have also been discreetly integrated to support sustainability and accessibility.

Simone circa 1968.

Simone circa 1968.

Photo: Gilles Petard

The grounds now feature a replicated swept dirt yard, echoing a practice rooted in African tradition and once common across the rural South. Archaeologists uncovered remnants of original outbuildings, including the foundation of a work shed, which has since been outlined for visitors. And standing at the rear of the property is a towering magnolia tree, now nicknamed “Sweetie Mae,” that was present during Simone’s childhood and that is believed to be nearly a century old.

Pendleton still speaks of his first visit to the home with a reverent awe. He recalls standing on the porch, looking out at the church where Simone once played the piano, struck by the feeling that he was standing where she once stood. “That overwhelmed me, this idea that everything begins somewhere,” he says. “And this is where it began for her.”

This story appears in AD’s December issue. Never miss a story when you subscribe to AD.