Wynwood: A Model for American Blight

Over Labor Day, I flew to Miami to jet ski frothy white caps as Gordon blew in from the Pacific. The rain pelted and my adrenaline pounded. It was naturally euphoric and wonderfully memorable. Miami showed me something equally important. I saw Wynwood.
Wynwood is a neighborhood in Miami. Once known as “Little San Juan” or “El Barrio” where Puerto Rican immigrants settled in the 1950s, it grew into an industrial area of cinderblock warehouses, a few restaurants and shops, small homes, and a rail yard. There were jobs, a real community, and opportunities.
By 2000, Wynwood had declined. Property values had fallen, jobs had disappeared, crime had risen, and blight had crept like a gray shadow over the land. Buildings fell prey to graffiti and vandalism. Like too many neighborhoods in America, Wynwood seemed beyond repair; some would say, lost.
Local officials struggled to address their community’s distress. The traditional methods sprung up — rebuild housing stock, encourage new businesses, tweak tax policy. Very little worked, or worked well.
In 2003, these commonplace approaches gave way to a new invention. Mark Coetzee gathered a group of art dealers, artists, and curators to propose the Wynwood Art District Association. He modeled it on a similar project, Art Night, that he had launched in his home of Cape Town, South Africa. The idea was simple — draw art to Wynwood, make it the centerpiece of a new neighborhood, turn vandals into VanGogh, graffiti into Gauguin.
The association started small. It drew in local talent to paint manholes and doors, erect banners on street corners, and publish maps of all association members. As more artists took up residence in Wynwood, like moths to a flame, and galleries popped up to showcase local and regional talent, the association started the Second Saturday Gallery Walk.

Momentum built, enough to attract Tony Goldman, a real estate mogul. Elsewhere in America — Philadelphia, Miami Beach, New York City — he had shown that he believed in the bones of good neighborhoods, in the people who lived there, and most of all, in the art and culture of communities. For Goldman, creative possibilities could erupt, if only wanton energy could be channeled into good works.
In 2009, at the height of America’s Great Recession, Goldman sponsored the Wynwood Walls. He wanted to develop the pedestrian potential of the area, allowing visitors to walk and admire, to stop and snap pictures, to hop from one gallery to another and eat lunch in between at a great restaurant.
The Walls let local artists paint murals, but soon drew eager artists from elsewhere in America, and then other countries. With growing appeal, and coverage in radio, TV, and newspapers including the New York Times and the BBC, the tourists came and walked the Walls and visited the galleries and ate in the restaurants. They took photos and told their friends.

Once a dilapidated industrial area of blight, Wynwood has become one of the must-see destinations of Miami. It now boasts over 70 galleries, five museums, three prominent collections, seven art complexes, 12 art studios, five art fairs, and the Wynwood Walls, which is one of the top 20 most highly posted sites on Instagram.
Other communities in America — each struggling under yokes of joblessness, vandalism, and limited opportunity — should heed the lesson of Wynwood. Not all problems need to be solved or can be solved by government; in fact, many of the best solutions come from or can only come from a small handful of hard working citizens with big hearts and good ideas.
The dry policies of government stem from the sober minds of politicians. But citizens bring heart and soul, and with them, art and culture. All low income communities can use a lot of both.