The Art of Footprints and Conversation
Much of this city is unlike the Chicago-land suburbs where I come from. The noise is, by all standards, louder than a small suburban town. There are subways, an above-ground Metro rail, and buildings a thousand feet tall. While these things were always obvious, I thought nothing of that fact’s significance. The city buildings are tall, and they are there, and someone built them at some point. So what?
An art teacher of mine had a sign on his blackboard that he would frequently quote, “everywhere, everyone, everything is art”. When he referenced it, I always told him how much I agreed, how I always sought out to find art everywhere I found myself. It was not until coming to Chicago that I questioned that viewpoint. All it really seemed to me was loud people, and ample transportation, and most noticeably, it was big. I noticed as I grew older, my creativity was thinning. I had never used to think like that.
Tonia Hill quotes artist Kalief Dinkins talking about a piece of optimistic art he made on a billboard meant to foster a sort of hope for those who see it. Dinkins says, “When you’re a kid, you’re very optimistic. You feel like the world can’t slow you down and I think that’s something that we should hold on to, so the billboard kind of tries to hone in on that feeling” (Hill). The idea of viewing the world in a child-like way is something I used to have because I was still actually a child. Now, it has become a decision I make from day to day. I decided to view the city in questions. So, for my Walk Chicago class, I challenged my thinking. We talked about art, deeper meanings, and finding the answer to our own questions. To tie it all together, of course, was Chicago. While my mind started blurring the lines of each state’s respective cities, I decided to identify my surroundings by a definition that was unique to Chicago. The question I set out to ask myself was what made the art of Chicago, through all of its mediums, stand out beside the profound cliché of “everything is art”?
The art in my hometown was literal. I saw ceramic pieces in the art hallway of my school, and interior murals at local cafes. It was not much, I thought. I, however, made one brutal mistake. I looked in all the wrong places. So, as I learned Chicago, not in its entirety, but a version of it I’ll quote, I found the little things I had been searching for in my hometown. I came to realize that the whole “everything is art” mindset was not a mindset at all. It is an adverb. My realization, more simply put, was that art has a prerequisite of a mindfulness I had yet to discover. There is no point in the thought if there is no person to discover the “everything”, think about it, and carry the discovery with them. The obvious things carry the story, like those massive buildings, and the architecture on the expansive blue sheets that neither I nor the average person can get to see. History is art, too. The creator, or the viewer, take an artistic title as well. The verb that receives that title is a multitude of actions. Someone could see the building, read the papers, draw the blueprint, and on goes the list of artists. Such mindfulness towards the finished result or, for it once completed, recognizes a more profound type of connection through each artist, by my definition, and their path through this lifetime.
While I could pick apart the meaningful history behind every piece I find to be “art”, I think what is more important are the people who decide to find the art. The persons that set out to discover the “everything” drag along a life story, a history of their own, that ties us all together. We have connections through art because it gives us topics to talk about, people to meet, and places to visit. The Flaneur, a person who plans to discover nothing in particular, is a keyway to find art. Be it a person, maybe, that is the art, or perhaps an Interaction between other people.
Another example I have found is one of movement. Not physical, but political, and a topic I wrote about in a question about political art. There is no movement without some form of art. Any type of two-plus-sided argument has its propaganda, its stickers, and its murals. A good example of one of the most prevalent, current, and famous movements, the Black Lives Matter movement, has a mass amount of art. It appears in just about anywhere, even in the most random places. The internet is filled with pieces about the support of the movement. Many people take an interest in art that tackles topics like police brutality, victim justice, race history, oppression, and BIPOC representation. Having a collective, organized method of support makes a topic go viral. Murals make unknowing onlookers think about its meaning. In these works, it is common to see symbols, such as the fist for the Black Lives Matter movement. These symbols get carried to marches, to logos, and even just profile pictures showing an anonymous person’s stance on the side of activism. This movement was everywhere thanks to the internet and thanks to artists everywhere. It is interesting to wonder what story we would have gotten on the movement without its popularity through the arts, if any story at all. Movements will always need visuals.
The art inspires a message beyond the yes-no, good-bad argument of whatever problem is at hand. It shows the humanity behind politics by bringing people together and fostering common ground. We exist to connect, and art only furthers our understanding of each other as society gets more complicated. Art brings people together, much like Joe Ward proves in his article about Uptown’s Black Lives Matter mural. Ward says that “the mural is a collaboration between 18 Chicago artists. Each of the 16 letters in the mural was painted by a different artist or artist collective…”. One of the artists Ward discusses, Kelsey McCellan, explains that “We wanted to show support for the movement, and this is the best way we know how” (Ward). Through the movement, the artists collaborated and tackled an objective together. The street art was physical, but their legacy and impact on each other was an art too.
With the theme of connection, Pupovac details the experience of a muralist by the name of Hector Duarte, a muralist that painted dozens of culturally significant pieces throughout Chicago. She states, “Duarte says his bold and colorful murals are intended not only to beautify the neighborhood, but to carry on a strong Mexican muralist tradition that seeks to educate, inspire, and engage with the public. His chosen canvas is deliberately accessible to all…Duarte thrives on public engagement — whether in schools, where he’s taught and worked with local youth; in museums like Pilsen’s National Museum of Mexican Art, where, in 2009, he created a mural in public view; or on the street, where curious passersby often ask him about the mural that blankets his home” (Pupovac). With his art, Duarte found a life of connection. Those connections, I will continue to argue, is just as beautiful as the art itself.
Lastly, while researching the communities of Chicago, I found a group of Chicagoan artists who found a group within each other. John Weber, the Chicago Public Art Group co-founder and artist, writes, “Chicago Public Art Group supports art that enhances public spaces and fosters community participation. Our work is rooted in the principle that everyone deserves to engage with art, that every community deserves a voice, and that public art encourages community investment,” (Chicago Public Art Group.) He mentions the importance of community and its relation to art, and how their art group is dedicated to finding it. There are entire groups impassioned towards giving the people art. Art drives conversation and thinking, and that is a process I consider part of art.
I took away a lesson that I know I will carry with me for the rest of my life. There is purpose in exploration, and art to what seems regular. Rather than “another discourse”, I see the collective efforts and community that blossom. And rather than just viewing the world as an artist, I can walk the world and find artists. Art is rooted in its discovery, and it exists for us to find it.
Works Cited:
- Hill, Tonia. “‘we Grow Here Too’ Art Installation on 95th and Cottage Is an Ode to. Roseland.” The TRiiBE, 19 Apr. 2022, thetriibe.com/2022/02/we-grow-here-too-art-installation-on-95th-and-cottage-is-an-ode-to-roseland-kaliefs-kanvas/.
- Pupovac, Jessica. “Hector Duarte: Muralist.” WTTW Chicago, 26 Mar. 2018, interactive.wttw.com/my-neighborhood/pilsen/hector-duarte.
- Ward, Joe. “Black Lives Matter Mural Painted by 18 Artists Takes over Uptown Street.” Block Club Chicago, 4 Aug. 2020, blockclubchicago.org/2020/08/04/black-lives-matter-mural-painted-by-18-artists-takes-over-uptown-street/.
- Weber, John. “Chicago Public Art Group.” CPAG, 12 Oct. 2023, chicagopublicartgroup.org/.
