jordana – We Love DC https://www.welovedc.com Your Life Beyond The Capitol Thu, 17 Dec 2020 20:42:17 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=5.9.9 We Fight We Die: How The Disenfranchised #Occupy https://www.welovedc.com/2011/11/03/we-fight-we-die-how-the-disenfranchised-occupy/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/11/03/we-fight-we-die-how-the-disenfranchised-occupy/#comments Thu, 03 Nov 2011 13:00:00 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=77491

Jeff Kirkman III, Alexander Burton, Michael Ro

]]>

Jeff Kirkman III, Alexander Burton, Michael Rodriguez and Stanley Andrew Jackson III; Junesong Arts’ We Fight We Die. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.

Self-defined as representing the masses, it’s no surprise that a majority of Americans approve of the now-global “Occupy” movement—they understand it as the manifestation of desperation, a fight where compromise failed. Feeling powerless in the face of corporate greed and political corruption, hundreds of thousands are venting their anger in the most public, most drastic way possible: by taking to the streets.

But what about those who are neither among the wealthy one percent, nor among the “other ninety-nine”? That is, those truly at the bottom, for whom money-hungry CEOs and rotten Congressmen are perhaps the least of worries; for whom starvation, extreme cold, or gang violence are a much more real threat than losing healthcare or facing foreclosure. Where can they rally? How can they express themselves?

After watching Junesong Arts’ new stage production We Fight We Die, the answer may be that they, too, must occupy the streets…but with aerosol cans instead of pitchforks.

Playing now through November 12th at the Mead Theater Lab at Flashpoint in Chinatown, the show “tells the story of Q, a homeless, virtuosic graffiti artist who has transfixed the local city with his stunning and subversive work,” as goes the press release. Caught by police in the opening scenes, the drama unfolds as Q is forced to choose between jail time and licensing his talent to the local mayor, who has launched a Murals DC-like art program as a PR ploy to win reelection. Assigned the “pathetic” task of painting a local elementary school’s mascot—Unis the Unicorn—Q struggles until the very end with the decision to finish the mural or stay true to his graffiti roots.

At first it seems like a tired plotline, if you’ve followed any of the public debate that has transfixed DC’s street art scene. The CliffsNotes version of the drama: Now in its fifth year, the Murals DC program fills tag-prone spaces with (often urban-styled) commissioned murals, representing a joint effort by the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities and the Department of Public Works to work with local art organizations and reach a happy medium between vandalism and freedom of expression.

However We Fight We Die freshens up that story through spoken word and a (for the most part) engaging cast of characters, including the brooding, mysterious Q, and his hilarious partner in crime Wits– a fantastic comical and dramatic performance by Stanley Andrew Jackson III. Playwright Timothy J. Guillot—a Catholic University alum inspired by the artwork found along the eastern portion of the Red Line, throws in a number of twists, too: without giving away the ending, the mayor’s viciousness runs so deep it oscillates between despicable and unrealistic. Q himself, we eventually learn, has a sordid past of his own, so terrible that even Wits’ zany humor shrivels in its darkness.

But it is precisely that black or white, extremist edge that makes the play worthwhile: it might be exaggerated, but it gets you thinking. Q makes it clear, for instance, that the essence of his art is anonymity, rebellion and defiance—so clear that, again, you oscillate between rolling your eyes (really? are you going to throw a temper tantrum too?) and thinking that maybe it’s exactly true to reality, a burning need to rectify injustice through revolution. When paired with the mayor’s stunning cruelty, you start to wonder: what can a homeless man, a modern-day “misérable,” do to express himself and fight against the social nets that failed him, the government leaders that ignore him, and the family, friends and neighbors that he doesn’t have? It dawns on you then that of course the streets are his canvas. What other option does he have? By the end, you even consider that, just maybe, until the social injustices that led Q to “criminality” are addressed, the city deserves the (stunning) scarlet letter of his graffiti.

Does DC still deserve its many scarlet letters? Should our city’s walls be occupied?

Freedom of expression (perhaps) at 15th and Fuller Street, NW. A beautiful scarlet letter.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/11/03/we-fight-we-die-how-the-disenfranchised-occupy/feed/ 1
Love (of Art) Conquers All (Weather) https://www.welovedc.com/2011/10/29/love-of-art-conquers-all-weather/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/10/29/love-of-art-conquers-all-weather/#comments Sat, 29 Oct 2011 22:46:41 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=77276

It wouldn’t be street art if it didn’t stand up to …

]]>

It wouldn’t be street art if it didn’t stand up to the elements, and even today’s (ongoing) icy rain couldn’t shut down Albus Cavus’ Monster Mash Halloween paint party at Garfield Park. The nonprofit art organization, which offers workshops and after school programs and curates a series of what they call “open walls” for graffiti artists, welcomed local artists, performers, skaters and the public at large to an all-day community “expression” jam: skateboarders rode the hand-made ramps of the skate park, members of Urban Artistry got a dance cipher going and, of course, everyone from little kids to pro taggers repainted the open wall spaces tucked beneath Southeast Freeway.

Fueled by frequent stops to the community fire pit (and candy bowl), and swapping spray paints and ideas with fellow painters, the graff artists produced some seriously stunning—and seriously different—stuff, themed for Halloween. Replacing the Garfield the Cat and cartoon character faces from Albus Cavus’ earlier kids workshops, the walls, columns and fences now feature monsters— some that you may recognize (like the werewolf) and others you may not (like the ET-like figure with eyes in his palms— scary!).

Yours truly even gave it a go on the wooden boards hanging along the wire fencing of the park (my mom’s cat is a monster, so it was a legitimate project!). But I doubt those will stand the test of time (and snow). Sorry Mom!

(Above: an artist paints the tentacle of a very patriotic octopus-human– can you see it?)

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/10/29/love-of-art-conquers-all-weather/feed/ 3
DC Graff: The Case for Open Walls (Part II) https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/21/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-ii/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/21/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-ii/#comments Wed, 21 Sep 2011 17:00:47 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=75715

Continued from Part I…

Just a few blocks f…

]]>

Continued from Part I…

Just a few blocks from the Capitol South metro stop, alongside children tackling the jungle gyms and dogs chasing after Frisbees, Hill staffers play pick-up games of football and soccer on the greens of Garfield Park. Until a few years ago you might have caught a pick-up basketball game, too, at the cement-paved court nestled under the Southeast Freeway. But not so true anymore, ever since a group of young skateboarders discovered the court and claimed it as a skate park, installing improvised rails and ramps, decorating their domain with sneaker chandeliers and aerosol tags. “We had never had graffiti before” says Bill Phillips, President of Friends of Garfield Park, a community group that maintains the historic Capitol Hill locale. “We’d call the city and they’d paint it over and that did nothing but create a canvas for brand new graffiti.”

A canvas perfect for the work of Albus Cavus

…who adopted the wall earlier this year as part of its Open Walls initiative. Originally founded in New Jersey as an art collective, the nonprofit promotes “the idea that art is an essential part of everyone’s life” by offering workshops and after school programs, and operating free public art spaces across the District.

“We kind of look at graffiti not as vandalism but as a sign that there is a need for more creativity in the streets… and spaces to [create art],” said Peter Krsko of Albus Cavus. “We don’t like to fight graffiti, we like open spaces.”

Albus Cavus (Latin for “white cave”—homage to the white-walled basement that served as a first gallery space for the group) typically fills these open spaces through student practice sessions and other informal projects, and began work at Garfield Park this past spring. Albus Cavus alum Tim Rodgers led the first workshop at the wall, guiding kids as they created character faces— “Various eyes, various noses, various shapes to make faces while using spray paint,” he explains—all stacked on top of one another. He then lined the multi-faceted (literally) background with black paint to form larger cartoonish faces with “silly expressions,” as he says.

Rodgers had never even picked up a spray paint can before discovering Albus Cavus a few years ago. Looking, at the time, for community resources to supplement the art class he taught once a week at Little Lights Urban Ministries, he started out with a visit to The Fridge (an Eastern Market art gallery that partners with Albus Cavus on workshops) and a subsequent painting session, and was instantly fascinated by the medium, and its communal draw.

“[When] you’re painting alongside someone, you get to see what they’re doing. You can go ‘Hey, how did you do that’ or even offer some advice yourself. You just get a nice vibe, a community feel. Rather than [creating art] sitting at a table. You can run into each other, too, on the wall. Collaborate easier.”

Leon Rainbow, a New Jersey-based graffiti artist and early member of Albus Cavus’ network, voiced similar sentiments about his contribution to the Garfield Park wall. “I thought it was real cool because you had a park and then a skate park there underneath that highway…. You had people that skate coming up and talking to us, and then people taking their kids to the park.

“It’s important for there to be free spaces for people to create public art just to have that kind of conversation, really. Where you’re creating something and trying to portray one thing and different people come by and give you your opinions and sometimes you incorporate their opinions into it…. I think it’s a good thing….”

Of course the collaborative process is not unique to open walls, as opposed to commissioned murals. Many DC-commissioned murals are created in teams, often composed of youth painters led by a lead artist.

But the key difference is who collaborates before putting paint to brick.

“When you do a public art project through the city or different organizations, you start out with one concept and what comes out in the completed project half the time isn’t really what you intended,” says Rainbow. “You have to jump through so many hoops and go through so many boards and committees…. A lot of times there are specific themes or ideas that are… imposed.” Rainbow went so far as to suggest that without steady funding, free walls represent artists who paint for the love of it, spending their own money on supplies to express themselves, to do something important, and to create art for art’s sake.

…And to practice, too.

“I would love to see more open walls in DC, more places to paint,” says Rodgers who, again, was an Albus Cavus student himself.  “[If I want to] see what these colors will look like together. An open wall is great for that. Get your skill up, play around, experiment more.”

Rainbow wholeheartedly agrees. Citing his experimental Sooopa Fly character at the Garfield Park wall, which in his mind represents the merging of two styles, he calls free walls the perfect testing ground for students and amateurs developing their own style, and still learning basic techniques. “Ways of holding your can and getting your can control together. You can’t get your can control together without practicing on a wall,” he explains.

Of course that doesn’t mean that all public art should be a rotating door of designs splashed across designated buildings (free wall works are always temporary). Indeed both artists are extremely supportive of the MuralsDC project to commission permanent murals—encouraged by the growing buzz of activity in the DC art world, encouraged by the city’s commitment to beautification through art, and excited about the emerging graffiti debate.

Still, perhaps nine permanent, city-commissioned murals in a year is a bit…ambitious? Unfair? There is only so much wall space available. And right now, next to none of it welcomes artists to learn, practice and express themselves completely uninhibited. Where else can they go? What talent are we losing? What messages are we missing?

And really: isn’t the Garfield Park wall incredible?

If you’re interested in supporting the Open Walls initiative or exploring wall painting yourself, consider checking out Albus Cavus’ Halloween paint party at Garfield Park this October.

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/21/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-ii/feed/ 7
DC Graff: The Case for Open Walls (Part I) https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/20/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-i/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/20/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-i/#comments Tue, 20 Sep 2011 17:00:30 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=75677

Murals DC Piece at Fuller and 15th NW

The debate i…

]]>

Murals DC Piece at Fuller and 15th NW

The debate is fresh but the line seems to already have been drawn.

On one side, facing an uptick in tagging that has cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars in removal fees this year alone, DC officials agree that illegal graffiti is criminal before artistic: “I appreciate art,” said Nancee Lyons of the Department of Public Works (DPW) at a panel discussion on the issue earlier this summer, “But if Picasso made a painting on the side of my house—it may be beautiful but if I didn’t ask him to do it it’s still vandalism.”

While the event—titled “The Art of Vandalism: A Closer Look at DC Graffiti”—featured an eclectic panel of experts on the art form, including a former graffiti artist, DC new brow art collector Philippa Hughes, a graffiti documentarian from Georgetown University, and Cory Stowers, Art Director at Words Beats Life (a hip-hop nonprofit), the debate still served as the official kick-off for the MuralsDC Project—the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities’ answer to tagging.

Launched in 2007 in partnership with DPW, the program aims to “replace illegal graffiti with artistic works” and “promotes respect for public and private property as well as community awareness for the young people [involved].” According to the website, sites are chosen “in collaboration with the Department of Public Works’ assessment of areas with high incidents of illegal graffiti. Each mural reflects the character, culture and history of the neighborhoods in the District.”

But the character, culture and history according to whom? While the Commission has done an excellent job recruiting former (illegal) graffiti artists to weigh in on and even contribute murals, are these works authentic examples of artistic expression, or—as one angry audience member at the panel discussion declared—simply a means of censorship, or even propaganda?

As said by Jonna McKone in a recent (and brilliant) Washington City Paper piece on the District’s tagging debate:

In the eyes of community groups and government bodies, graffiti is crime. But a sociologist will tell you it has other functions: It’s an expression of identity. It’s about achieving recognition among peers, particularly for youth who feel marginalized. It’s about one-upping other writers. It’s about the thrill of tagging the most dangerous spots. It’s about saturation—repeating a tag or image until it punctures the public consciousness. Some tags are ugly, but they also having meaning. When graffiti is forced onto a piece of paper in a classroom or onto the walls of a corporate-funded art space, it doesn’t.

So what’s the answer? How do we curb vandalism yet foster not only the action of creation but the freedom of expression (dare I mention it, our first amendment right)?

Graffiti purists will balk (since illegality is part of the culture, arguably); but I think more so than the nine murals underway this year alone through the MuralsDC project, the answer is free walls. The answer is Garfield Park.

Stay tuned for part 2…

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/09/20/dc-graff-the-case-for-open-walls-part-i/feed/ 1
Greetings from DC! https://www.welovedc.com/2011/08/25/greetings-from-dc/ Thu, 25 Aug 2011 13:00:22 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=74649

For fifteen years, the West-facing wall of Mama …

]]>

For fifteen years, the West-facing wall of Mama Ayesha’s restaurant on Calvert Street stood bricked and barren, save for a narrow painted banner of Middle Eastern desert. In 2007 it was time for a tune up, decided manager Mohammed Abu-El-Hawa, whose family has owned and operated the Adams Morgan icon since 1960.

Originally founded as Calvert Café by Ayesha Abraham, a Palestinian immigrant who arrived in Washington in the late ‘40s, the restaurant has “served ambassadors, foreign dignitaries, and U.S. officials,” according to its website, and found a regular in one DC institution in particular: reporter Helen Thomas.

The distinguished (and now controversial) White House correspondent seemed the perfect fit for his DC venue, and Abu-El-Hawa envisioned a mural of Ms. Thomas interviewing every president since the start of her career, beginning with Kennedy and on through, at the time, George W. Bush.

He just needed an artist.

Meanwhile, Karla “Karlisima” Rodas needed a project; and the Virginia native—by then a prolific area muralist— had painted several decorative portraits for Old City Café on nearby Columbia Road, a Middle Eastern eatery owned by Abu-El-Hawa’s cousins. At their recommendation, he hired her to take on Mama Ayesha’s.

“I prayed to God to give me this opportunity,” says Karlisima, gazing now at her completed piece. Initially the project was to take up only a small portion of the restaurant wall; but when Helen Thomas—too modest, says Abu-El-Hawa, for such publicity—declined his offer to make her the subject of the mural, Karlisima spread her wings.

“I didn’t think that [having multiple images of Ms. Thomas interviewing Presidents] would work—it would make for an awkward composition,” says Karlisima in fluent French. (Born in El Salvador, raised in Virginia, and having worked in England and Germany, Ms. Rodas is more than a bit worldly.)

Following Ms. Thomas’ suggestion, the mural was to feature Mama Ayesha instead; and quickly, plans for the mural evolved to make it “DC’s biggest postcard,” a political family portrait of sorts spanning the entirety of the restaurant wall. (By the end, “I prayed to God to help me finish it,” jokes Karlisima, in reference to the mural’s daunting size—the project took two years to complete.) Drawing from the original vision in which Ms. Thomas was to be depicted interviewing every President since the start of her career, Mama Ayesha was to stand among every President since her landing on American soil.

A simple concept, to be sure; and indeed at first glance, with its bright colors and linear composition, almost excessively so. But the beauty lies in the details: the shadows of every column of the Lincoln Memorial, White House, and Capitol building; the sliver of light reflecting on the Presidents’ fingernails; Easter eggs lying subtly on the White House lawn; and the precision of each President’s expression…. Stunning.

Like the richness of DC’s wildlife.

“You see there, how beautiful?” she says emphatically, pointing at a picturesque view of trees just beyond Mama Ayesha’s. “[Nature] is a source of inspiration,” she explains. “[This city] has so much of it—it had to be shown.” Karlisima made sure to include the Potomac River (on the right side of the mural), and the changing seasons, too, were carefully designed. The scene begins at the left with the brown and orange hues of fall, transitioning into the barren trees of winter seen behind President Kennedy’s smiling face—a symbol of sadness at his death.

But much of the mural depicts the cherry blossoms of spring, and ends with a dramatic sunset, “in the spirit of optimism,” explains Karlisima.

“When I wrote the proposal for this piece”—Karlisima applied for and received a grant from the DC Commission of the Arts and Humanities—“I wrote of this country’s ideals. Even in [an economic] depression, there is always hope and optimism. That is the sentiment.”

All photos by the author.

]]>
Why I Love DC: Jordana Merran https://www.welovedc.com/2011/08/03/why-i-love-dc-jordana-merran/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/08/03/why-i-love-dc-jordana-merran/#comments Wed, 03 Aug 2011 19:00:23 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=73869

Raised in Potomac, where I attended private sch…

]]>

Raised in Potomac, where I attended private school and then a public school whose parking lot doubled as a BMW showroom (my 1990 Honda Civic fit right in), everyone I knew growing up was “going somewhere.” Something like ninety-eight percent of my classmates went on to four-year colleges—an impressive achievement, according to the Montgomery County School Board; many hoping to be doctors and lawyers like their parents, or investors like their neighbors….

And at just a thirty minute drive down the GW Parkway, DC was our “big city.” As kids, my brothers and I ate snow cones at the zoo and rode the merry-go-round on the National Mall. Older, I snuck into Fur nightclub the summer before I turned eighteen; tried hookah at the Prince Café in Georgetown over a college Spring Break; and had my first twenty-first birthday shot at Tom Tom in Adams Morgan.

So when I first moved back home after college, my thought was: capital of the free world? NBD. Yes, “everyone is so smart and motivated and worldly”—gush the newbies; but so is everyone else, if only in their own way. The faceless white stone buildings housing our nation’s treasures, our most powerful leaders—not especially impactful to someone who did not, at the time, know the names of her state senators (well, the one besides Barbara Mikulski— she’s been there for ages). And anyone who whispered a single positive word about the Metro system… clearly wasn’t that worldly after all. (Really, WMATA, have you considered investing in light bulbs?)

But by June 2010, a year out of college, eight months into a temp job, and zero success at landing a new one anywhere else, I was ready to claim my independence, as imperfect as it might be. For weeks, I religiously monitored listserves and Craigslist housing ads for a room in DC. And though the red line had been my yellow brick road to Washington for years, fate sent me along the yellow Metro rail to Columbia Heights.

It was love at first sight. The single pine tree on my street—that one’s mine, guarding my house (poorly, I guess, but that’s another story…). My bank, grocery store, the Circulator, the 50 buses, the S buses, the 42 and 43 buses are all just blocks way, just like the best thrift store in town (a secret I’m keeping for now!), mouthwatering pupusas (bean and cheese is my favorite), and the restaurant that took my Pho virginity (don’t worry, the love affair continues).

The intersection of 14th and Irving hums with the energy of an eclectic crowd. Every once in a while a group of activists (extremists?) flashing posters crowds the corner, preaching; but much more often, artists line the sidewalks, showcasing their colorful paintings; tiny kids jump and squeal their way through the solar-powered fountain on Park; and near the DCUSA complex or heading west toward Mount Pleasant, women sell sweet, freshly cut mangos—two dollars a bag—drizzled in exotic seasonings. I’m too embarrassed to practice my Spanish with them, but we figure it out.

Then, riding the bus (or my Bikeshare bike) down 14th: a small park where men argue over chess; a skateboard shop selling Tom’s shoes right next to an El Salvadorian restaurant whose menu is strictly in Spanish. Cutting across is Meridian Hill Park, where every Sunday a mob of strangers drum to a collective beat. Headed east again, U Street: countless Ethiopian restaurants, world-famous chili, street musicians drumming on shopping carts and trash cans, and every third weekend of the month, a “Get Sweaty” funk dance party.

I can’t believe this is DC, I sometimes reflect. K Street, Congress, Capitol Hill…It’s the pulse of the nation, for sure; but it has a heart of its own, too. And it has breathed a certain life into me, affording me opportunities in the way of learning—about politics and art and urban development and community; and writing—about murals and architecture and theater and fundraisers; and living—in a place home to a melting pot of histories and cultures. DC surprised me, and that’s why I love it.

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/08/03/why-i-love-dc-jordana-merran/feed/ 9
A True Adams Morgan Original https://www.welovedc.com/2011/07/21/a-true-adams-morgan-original/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/07/21/a-true-adams-morgan-original/#comments Thu, 21 Jul 2011 19:00:35 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=73283

All photos by the author.

From a lofty brick thro…

]]>

All photos by the author.

From a lofty brick throne, a voluptuous redhead rules over Adams Morgan, watching and goading all manner of revelry like a contemporary Doctor T.J. Eckleburg. Her territory spans the 18th Street strip; her image an iconic symbol of throbbing crowds, vodka cranberries, and Jumbo Slice pizza.

But just two blocks away from her Madam’s Organ palace stands evidence of a rich heritage that long precedes her reign. Near the corner of 18th and Adams Mill (and now overlooking a Zipcar parking lot), a community has danced, sung, painted and played in the faces of danger and greed for over thirty years, their history preserved in a three-story mural titled “A People without Murals is a Demuralized People.”

Originally painted in 1977 by Chilean brothers and artists “Caco” (Carlos) and Renato Salazar (the first of whom studied at the Corcoran and founded the now-defunct Centro de Arte organization), the work is touted as one of the oldest and largest of DC’s few remaining Latino murals, the last beacon of a wider Latino artistic movement in the city, according to Quique Aviles.

“It was…the heyday of the Nicaraguan [and] El Salvadorian [revolutions], so there was all this artistic, cultural movement in the city,” says Aviles, an El Salvadorian immigrant who landed in Columbia Heights in 1980. “This mural tradition [started] in the Latino community. A bunch of murals were painted.”

Unfortunately, only a handful have survived, he continues. Many were done on plywood panels on the sides of decrepit buildings, eventually torn down to make way for renovations and development projects. Sun-faded, rusting in some places and crumbling in others, the Salazars’ mural was slated to meet a similar fate. Aviles—by then an Adams Morgan resident, artist, activist, and founder of Sol y Soul (an organization promoting social justice through art)—fought to save it.

Through the support of the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities, the Mayor’s Office of Latino Affairs, Ward 1 representative Jim Graham and various community organizations, Aviles secured funding to, in effect, remuralize the “Demuralized.” Over the course of three weeks in the summer of 2005, using latex and spray paints, graffiti artist Juan Pineda repaired the wall and repainted the work.

Some areas of the mural had so deteriorated that “I had to use my imagination to fill in the blanks,” explains Pineda, noting for instance that the once-vibrant reds had long-since faded to pink. Photos of the original piece guided his project; but to his surprise, the Latino community emerged in support, too.

“The coolest part [of the project] was having locals come up [and observe]…. A lot of them have been here for generations, and they all came and shared their stories with me…of the mural, little scenes here and there—what the neighborhood was like,” remembers Pineda. “[Many] offered me breakfast and lunch [while I worked]. They had a personal attachment.”

The mural is certainly striking enough to merit a fan club. Informed by the artist’s interest in Picasso at the time, the cubist accents render the piece at once vivid and demure, simplistic and perplexing. “The flat, plain colors with thick outlines gave the figures more strength and, [like] poster art of the 70s, a more powerful view at [a] distance,” says Caco in an e-mail regarding his original design. (The geometric shapes and straightforward coloring were a practical decision, too. As the original Centro de Arte team worked with area youth to complete the piece, “Quality control was difficult… I had to develop a quick technique…,” explains Caco.)

The composition is divided into three distinct but complementary pockets of activity: one along the bottom row, depicting community festivities; a second in the upper left corner—home life in greater detail; and a third in the upper right corner, consisting of a dark and suspicious trio of figures. On the far left, a large, white, ghost-like figure (a Big Brother-esque Cyclops according to The Washington Post; the Holy Spirit according to Pineda) seems to hold the three pockets in place, balancing the images as the eye follows the “yellow brick road” that connects them all.

But more than aesthetics, the mural’s appeal undoubtedly stems from its enduring message. Amid scenes of everyday neighborhood life—dancing, music and, in a nod to the artistic movement of the era, mural painting, symbols of corruption and danger pervade. At the center, one figure, his hands half-shielding his eyes, gazes in horror (or at least, bites his nails in anxiety) at a blazing television screen. Directly above it, the portrait of Augusto Pinochet (according to Pineda) hangs in a living room, his red eyes a menacing reminder of the Chilean dictator’s infamous cruelty—once a reality for some members of the community (or at least, for the Salazars). And sneakily, in the top right corner of the composition, it is three businessmen wearing suits and malicious grins, playing Monopoly with the neighborhood—raising rents and driving out immigrants.

Indeed, a plaque adjacent to the mural offers a brief description of the 2005 renovation, followed by a dedication in both English and Spanish “to all those who struggled to make – and keep – this neighborhood their home.”

“It’s an early depiction of life in a barrio,” admits Aviles, “But it was also demarcation of territory. We’re here. We have a voice. We paint.

“It’s important to retain [these] types of artistic statements, and to remind people in the city that even though there’s not as many of us because of the prices, the rent, that we still maintain a presence, we are part of the fabric of the city.”

Hear that, Madam?

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/07/21/a-true-adams-morgan-original/feed/ 3
Old Lovers Meet at 14th and Swann https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/27/old-lovers-meet-at-14th-and-swann/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/27/old-lovers-meet-at-14th-and-swann/#comments Mon, 27 Jun 2011 15:00:15 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=72170

Faded, crumbling, unlikely to survive too many …

]]>

Faded, crumbling, unlikely to survive too many more DC winters or 14th Street-area renovations, I love this mural. It raises a million questions.

From the perch of an old row house wall overlooking the Swan Auto parking lot, emerging from a pool? pond? ocean?—two Dr. Seuss-like figures—humans? balding angels? fruit flies?—share a fading yellow apple. Lips locked on the fruit, their eyes are closed passionately. One wears a small bejeweled crown, but otherwise they appear naked. They are LOVERS, says the painting in simple black font, a status reinforced by the word “madreselva” painted in upside-down and backwards letters below. Madreselva means honeysuckle in Spanish, a flower that is supposedly associated with “the bond of love,” or according to other sources, “generosity.” Either way, we are getting a sneak peek at two individuals’ affection through this mustard yellow, circular window….  Or is it a puzzle piece? (What are those little nodes around the frame?)

The ocean, the apple, their nakedness; that the left figure’s wings? body? appear to fit the curves of the water perfectly—not quite drawn from dust, but certainly drawn from nature… all allude to Adam and Eve. But these figures are completely androgynous. Or at least, not male and female. An ode to homosexuality, then, maybe? But especially with the crown in the picture, their relationship is unclear.

Sadly, it might stay that way for a while.

The DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities has no record of the mural in its database, as it was not a publicly-commissioned piece, says Deirdre Ehlen of the Commission. (Though, notably, the organization operates an ever-growing website that continuously maps public art and allows viewers to share information on anonymous or otherwise cryptic pieces.) Robert Gamzeh, a realtor who handles some of the adjacent properties, could not speak to the mural’s history. Mark Johnson, co-owner of the Hunted House vintage furniture store (part of the same complex), only knows that it has been there since as long as he can remember. Maybe two decades, he says.

Long-lasting love!

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/27/old-lovers-meet-at-14th-and-swann/feed/ 5
DC Street Art Scene: G40 Summit is Just the Beginning https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/07/dc-street-scene-g40-summits-artapalooza/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/07/dc-street-scene-g40-summits-artapalooza/#comments Tue, 07 Jun 2011 17:00:14 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=71028

When I first introduced myself as the newest We L…

]]>

When I first introduced myself as the newest We Love DC arts writer to Lauren Gentile, Director at Irvine Contemporary art gallery on 14th Street, she warned me that I would struggle to find works that would meet my “street art” beat. At the time, I was researching the P Street Shepard Fairey mural, and she was quick to point out that neither he, nor any of the other artists represented in that tiny gem of an alleyway, were DC-based.

This was true, of course; but as it turns out, maybe not for long.

The DC blogosphere has been buzzing lately over “vitaminwater uncapped LIVE’s” month-long takeover of 1213-1217 14th Street. In a last hoorah before its scheduled demolishment later this year, the multi-story building has played host to a “cultural extravaganza” of musical performances, fashion shows, and Art Whino gallery’s second annual G40 Summit.

Playfully (or something like that) named after the G20 Summit that unites political heavyweights, the exhibit unites leaders in “New Brow”—contemporary underground art that draws from graffiti and skater culture—with thousands of pieces from New York, California, DC and around the world on display. While DC is no stranger to galleries and art shows, the truly unique nature of underground art literally exploded onto the street last Saturday, when Art Whino hosted its “Artapalooza” live painting session in the parking lot adjacent to the venue.

Open to the public, Art Whino Executive Director Shane Pomajambo offered curious visitors old disc covers, paints, and Sharpies (and screws, to attach the ‘canvasses’ to the side of the building) to create their own street art.

Meanwhile, armed with glosses, spray paints, permanent markers and duct tape, a handful of Art Whino artists went to work on white-washed Masonite boards, which the artists themselves had painted, drilled and hung to the surrounding wire fence earlier that morning.

Within just a few hours, one canvas depicted a neon green and purple landscape of electric wires; another a busy black-and-white labyrinth of abstract shapes. Painting side-by-side over the course of the afternoon, Miami-based artist Wes Roos connected with DC-area native Bobby Moore, agreeing to join in a scheduled painting session the next day, when Art Whino would be hosting its first “Creative Art Market” at Navy Yard.

And just like that, DC became ever more “a scene.”

For a long time, that was not the case, explained Pomajambo, a New York City transplant and Catholic/Virginia Tech graduate. It was “very, very, very underground,” he said of the art scene. “You wouldn’t know about it unless you [were part of it yourself].”

Frustrated with the limited opportunities for street artists in the area, Pomajambo used his own personal collection of New Brow works to open a gallery in Virginia nearly five years ago. Over 1500 people attended the grand opening; and in his mind, the scene has continued to pick up since.

“The more people producing events, the better the scene,” he said, citing the positive efforts of Phillipa Hughes, Ready Set DC, and other “institutions” working to build out DC’s art culture. This is why, he says, he organized the G40 Summit, and now the Creative Art Market series at Navy Yard (notably, inviting prominent local DJs to each of these). “And it’s working—people are flying down. Artists feed off each other [here]. Next thing you know we’ll have huge [New Brow] collectors.”

And what does the DC scene look like?

“DC’s a very different beast [from California and New York],” said Pomajambo. “You have those pocket cultures. The scene doesn’t fit in Georgetown.” It doesn’t quite fit in Adams Morgan, either, he continued. Nonetheless, “They run the whole city in their own way.”

“What’s cool about DC is that [the city] has super DC spirit,” he said, noting how nowhere else do so many residents have tattoos of their own flag. “That’s what I love about [it.] They’re diehards.”

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/06/07/dc-street-scene-g40-summits-artapalooza/feed/ 3
When God Gives You Junk… https://www.welovedc.com/2011/05/25/when-god-gives-you-junk/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/05/25/when-god-gives-you-junk/#comments Wed, 25 May 2011 19:00:31 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=70390

For several weeks between March and April, memb…

]]>

For several weeks between March and April, members of Luther Place Memorial Church combed through their garages, recycling bins and—in some cases—the very streets of DC for junk: old newspapers and office supplies, takeout containers and bottles, even rusty appliances. Then, at weekend workshops, supplied with glue, paint and chicken wire, they got to work… building a garden.

Plastic soda bottles and bottle caps bloomed into red and yellow daisies. Painted and jeweled hubcaps formed the centers of brightly-colored sunflowers. A string of soda cans slithered menacingly near a papier-mâché nest (of dinosaur eggs). And Pastor Karen Brau’s plucky pug (modeled after her own dog at first, and then a stuffed animal when he wouldn’t sit still) explored his new backyard, trying to mark his territory against the local (and much more intimidating) alley cat.

The pieces formed Luther Place’s Community Junk Art Garden, part of Brau’s mission to turn the church’s 14th Street façade into “a sacred common”—a concept stemming back to her nearly twenty years serving as a pastor in inner-city Baltimore where she worked to transform several of the city’s countless vacant lots into gardens and other public spaces.

Indeed Brau had initially planned to plant a real garden in the plots of dirt that line the back of the Thomas Circle building; but when she found that, “Well, it’s really hard to grow plants there” (she laughs and shrugs), she searched for other alternatives. Inspired by congregants’ participation in the Smithsonian Community Reef Project earlier this year (an art project in which over 800 people across the globe contributed to a crocheted coral reef displayed at the Museum of Natural History), and eager to connect with the artsy heritage of the U and 14th Street corridors, the junk art garden concept emerged.

Brau and ministry organizer Marquita Jones used Facebook, posters and old-fashioned word-of-mouth to “commission” weatherproof junk art sculptures of plants and animals from congregants and the wider community. While two-thirds of the pieces were created by church members, several local community organizations contributed to the project, including N Street Village—a local women’s shelter (they had been active contributors to the Coral Reef Project, explained Jones)—which crafted the dinosaur eggs; and the Whitman Walker House (whose barbecue crab “truly captures the meaning of junk art,” said Jones).

That meaning, of course, being open to interpretation. Explaining her church’s commitment to art, Brau explained, “God is about creativity,” citing how music, for example, is so important to religious services. The junk art garden “was one outlet through which to bring forth that creativity.”

But for a wider, perhaps less religious circle, Jones said, “It was about bringing people together for the beauty of art and community…. People are smiling when they’re walking by.”

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/05/25/when-god-gives-you-junk/feed/ 4
The P Street Fairey https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/28/the-p-street-fairey/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/28/the-p-street-fairey/#comments Thu, 28 Apr 2011 13:00:59 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=68929

Heading west from the 14th Street corner of P Str…

]]>

Heading west from the 14th Street corner of P Street, as jarring as a fence or brick wall, you’ll crash into a young Cambodian soldier, a machine gun hanging off his shoulder, a brilliant red flower pinned to his beret. The alley wall ends, but his steadfast gaze does not; and whatever his destination, it seems to lie far beyond the world of Whole Foods shoppers and restaurant patrons that cross his path.

Instinctively, the work represents thoughtful propaganda: a bold color scheme; simple, stylized shapes; and a gash of scarlet that draws the eye along the line of the machine gun…. When for the past decade the American public has consumed a war of desert operations and afghan uniforms, the brooding child fighter surely serves as a loud reminder that our war is not exceptional—others have preceded it, as equally horrendous and powerful in public memory. Titled “Duality of Humanity 2,” it could also mean just that— like his arm that carries a weapon while bearing a peace sign patch, how ironic is it that we fight wars to forge peace.

Or, in another twisted layer of irony, the whole thing could mean nothing at all.

As part of a street continuation and expansion of the gallery’s 2008 exhibit “Regime Change Starts at Home,” Irvine Contemporary on 14th Street commissioned the piece to internationally-renowned street artist Shepard Fairey; and though he is widely known as the creator of the now-famous Obama “Hope” poster, Fairey’s fame originates from a decidedly apolitical view of art. In 1989, while still a student at the Rhode Island School of Design, Fairey launched a sticker campaign  in which he and a “posse” of friends plastered a stenciled image of Andre the Giant all across Providence (and eventually the East coast). Even after changing the tagline from “Andre the Giant Has a Posse” to “Obey Giant” (after the WWF filed copyright complaints over rights to the wrestler’s name), Fairey’s “Obey Giant” gained momentum within the skating and underground art community, soon becoming its own brand, and the artist’s logo.

Though he refers to the original image distribution as the Obey sticker  “campaign,” in some ways, it was anything but a “campaign.” Like Warhol and Lichtenstein before him, Fairey appropriates and reworks popular images “in the name of fun and observation,” according to his own Manifesto. A self-proclaimed “experiment in phenomenology,” “The sticker has no meaning but exists only to cause people to react, to contemplate and search for meaning in the sticker.”

“Meaninglessly,” then, the image appears throughout Fairey’s body of work, and the alley-long P Street installation is no exception. The Obey face figures prominently in the soldier’s armband and surrounding patterns…

…and shows up in nearly all of the separate wheat-paste posters that compose the backdrop of the collage (see the armbands in the below examples):

These back drop images are in fact recognizable, stand-alone Fairey pieces. In the bottom right corner of the collage, brushing the young soldier’s lips, is Fairey’s “Revolutionary Woman with Brush” (pictured first above). At the top left corner, my personal favorite: “Peace Guard” (pictured second). Flanking the boy’s beret are “Afrocentric” and “Kiss Me Deadly” (among others).

All in all, the entire alley contains just one “never-before-seen” Fairey stencil (“Rose Girl,” below, was released through Irvine Contemporary in 2008)– everything else (besides, of course, the non-Fairey pieces, to be reviewed in a separate post) is a previously-released stencil.

But the mural is still unique, says Irvine Contemporary Director Lauren Gentile. Firstly, the posters were hand-collaged by Fairey and his crew (over the course of a week, and with intermittent help from DC Fairey enthusiasts); and each poster was an original print of the image.

Explaining Fairey’s work: “They’re not [commercial] posters. [There’s] the screen print, which is usually in an edition of 450…and they’re the most price-accessible work. Then [Fairey] does…hand-painted multiples [HPMs]…on wood and metal. They’re usually editions of two. He also does them on album covers. Then he does HPMs on paper—they’re usually an edition of 10– that’s what’s out [in the alley]….” Ultimately,  says Gentile, “The edition number is related to how many times the screen is used for the black image. But the backgrounds are all different.”

And making it all the more unique to DC? The Cat AIDS graffiti painted over the boy soldier’s face. Slap on a logo and maybe it’ll be the next Obey– the line is already everywhere! (Below: corner of 14th and Euclid.)

All photos by the author.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/28/the-p-street-fairey/feed/ 2
The State of Arts Education https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/14/the-state-of-arts-education/ https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/14/the-state-of-arts-education/#comments Thu, 14 Apr 2011 13:00:18 +0000 http://www.welovedc.com/?p=67917 Last week, the Huffington Post ran an opinion pi

]]>

Paul Ruther (Phillips Collection), Gail Murdock (DCAHEC Board member) and Michael Bobbitt (Adventure Theatre) at the DC Arts and Humanities Education Collaborative gala. Photo by the author.

Last week, the Huffington Post ran an opinion piece by Michael Kaiser—President of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts— lamenting Millennials’ low “culture IQ.” “We now have an entire generation of young people who have had virtually no exposure to the arts,” Kaiser declared, citing anecdotal examples of young colleagues clueless of Caruso’s tenor or Giuseppe Verdi’s place in history. He warned that unless we bolster arts education (and make the arts more affordable to young people), arts organizations will flounder in a few years’ time as their donors, board members, volunteers and patrons age without anyone to replace them.

Unsurprisingly (and as noted on Friday by our arts editor Jenn Larsen), Kaiser has since faced a hailstorm of online criticism, with dozens of self-proclaimed art-loving Millennials labeling him “ageist,” “elitist,” and even delusional. In a frequently-linked post, blogger Liz Maestri accuses Kaiser of “[making] the ridiculous assumption that all young people are stupid, drooling rabble, when in fact young people are more culturally savvy than ever.” Challenging Mr. Kaiser’s “self-defined ‘high art,’” she concludes that “major arts organizations need to go away. They are their own worst enemy.”

In some ways, I agree with her. “Stuffy art”—to steal one of the HuffPo commenters’ jargon—is not the only form of art out there. I cringed when, strolling through Eastern Market a few months ago, my friend pointed out “bad art” at a local artist’s stand. In my mind, there is no bad art, just as there is no “high art.”

But that very mindset is something I learned. Unlike Ms. Maestri (or half of the HuffPo commenters, it seems), my dad is not a musician, nor are my brothers; I never had season tickets to “the BSO” and I haven’t worked for an orchestra. During my junior year in Paris, I sped through the Rodin Museum and dreaded Picasso exhibits. Where is the art in grotesque shapes? I asked myself.

Two years later, I see it now. In fact, I see art everywhere: in the Dupont Circle fountain sculptures, the Gothic architecture of neighborhood churches, and the countless murals speckled across the city. And what changed me from an apathetic, art-less Millennial to an art lover (and now art writer!) was (a quite institutionalized) introductory art history course senior year. The class taught me the importance of art—how modern humans have almost never been without it. I learned about the evolution and mechanics of art, helping me to appreciate architecture in a time of ropes and pulleys, for example. Most important of all, though: I learned how to look at art, and articulate my thoughts about it. Caravaggio’s work wasn’t just “wow;” it was powerful because of the sharp light contrasts—a technique called chiaroscuro used during the counterreformation to infuse drama into religious images. Picasso’s paintings weren’t ugly anymore; they were a challenge to traditional use of composition and perspective.

It’s possible that talking about art in a meaningful way—putting it in a historical context and identifying and describing its various components—requires critical thinking skills that come standard to HuffPo readers and many DC Millennials. But the truth is not all young people are taught (either by a teacher using the teacher chronicle 2020, or an art-savvy parent or sibling) to talk about and appreciate art (whether it’s Van Gogh or street graffiti; Chopin or gogo music). And that is lamentable; because as Jade Floyd of the DC Arts and Humanities Education Collaborative (DCAHEC) explained at a benefit gala last Friday night, “[Children are] one day going to grow up to be our architects, our musicians, our designers.” They need a source of inspiration.

DCAHEC aims to fill that need in DC by providing public and public charter schools with art and music teachers, student feedback tools, art supplies, and education opportunities through some of the area’s prestigious arts organizations. More importantly, though, they advocate for arts-integrated curricula. Reflecting on her experience with elementary students who learned about O’Keefe and Van Gogh alongside botany and plant parts, DCPS teacher and DCAHEC board member Gail Murdock explained, “What I see is the [kids] develop a self-confidence; and higher-level thinking skills, synthesizing, making connections….” “High art” suddenly becomes more accessible, too. “You’re not saying, ‘Look at this artist; he can do this but you can’t,’” continued Murdock. Rather, “It opens [students] to the wider world of art.”

And it is a wide world. “…Everything from this building [the French embassy] to your car design to the colors that you see [in this room]…” said Floyd (surrounded by Corcoran, Phillips Collection and yes, even Kennedy Center patrons). It all counts, because art is everywhere. You just need to know how to look (and listen) for it. And so to Millenials: rather than voicing outrage at Kaiser’s (albeit tactless) words of wisdom and shunning Kennedy Center plays as obsolete, try embracing them as part of an open, ongoing and personal arts enlightenment.

Beginning this week, catch Jordana’s own continuing arts enlightenment as she examines the murals, mosaics, sculptures, columns, colors, architecture, and then some that make DC the “State of the Arts.”

Rachel Levitin contributed research to this post.

]]>
https://www.welovedc.com/2011/04/14/the-state-of-arts-education/feed/ 6