By Kate Gardiner

The first things that hit the eye on a sunny day in Pilsen are the murals. There is art everywhere—on storefronts, brickwork, churches, restaurants. The Virgin Mary of Guadalupe glows blue and gold on the side of a four-story building; an unfinished Aztec god gazes down on people behind a tortilleria; in an older mural, a portrait of Che Guevara stares accusingly at passers-by, reminding the majority Mexican-American neighborhood of their collective ancestors and traditions.

These images have become symbols of the neighborhood’s identity. And throughout Chicago, emblematic public art encapsulates the people that make up the “city of neighborhoods.”

Experts say, however, that many of the city’s best “contemporary murals”—from the Public Art Renaissance that began in 1967—are in peril.

Artist Caryl Yasko painted a mural in a Hyde Park underpass near 55th and Lake Park Avenue. It has since been plagued by water damage and crumbling cement. She repainted a panel of the 200-foot long work in October, and is trying to find funding to complete the restoration, provided the city of Chicago fixes drainage problems in the underpass that are undoing her efforts.

Yasko says she returned because restoring the mural and keeping it going “affects another several generations of people.” The mural, she says, helps the neighborhood say to the world, “We think in this place.”

Artist and art professor John Pitman Weber, one of the co-founders of the Chicago Public Art Group in the late 1960s, says his mentors encouraged his group to make sure that murals from the first half of the century were preserved. With CPAG executive director Jon Pounds, Weber is fighting the same battle now, to preserve the murals they created.

“We’re continuing to lose the remaining masterpieces from the 1970s and 1980s at a very disheartening rate,” Weber says. “It’s in neighborhoods [all over the city] where it’s gentrifying and it’s more yuppie.”

Alejandro Morales stands in front of the mural he spent the past two months painting at the behest of a private sponsor, one of a few murals painted this year in Pilsen.

Pounds thinks if absolutely no effort is made to restore important murals, “we are choosing to allow them to be destroyed.” On the other side of State Street, Weber says the battle to save aging murals is succeeding. “There’s been less of a loss in the Spanish-speaking and black neighborhoods,” he says. “They have a different attitude about art.”

Marcos Raya, a Mexican painter who has been working in Pilsen since 1971, said he goes back and touches up his murals in the neighborhood, if they still exist. He said the public art he and fellow artists made together in the 1970s reflects history, and should be preserved.

“Chicago was one of the most significant cities for the public art movement,” he says. “The murals gave a sense of identity and change to the working people whocame from all over to see them.”

Weber, reflecting on his own work, says many of his murals—and murals throughout the city—have been lost. Raya said he does not know how many of his murals still exist, but that some of the best murals have already been destroyed. “The historic ones should be reconstructed, so that the younger generation are taught to give different voice to their history,” he says.

Weber says any mural restoration project does have access, at least right now, to many of the artists who painted the original works in the 1970s. “The artist can lead the restoration, or at least advise it,” he says. In cases like Yasko’s, then, the artist is able teach the classical, fine art-mural technique to the young artists helping to repaint the mural while revisiting the historic period of the mural. Mural restoration is expensive, however; the price tag on Yasko’s project, which she expects to pay for with community donations, is at least $40,000.

Weber estimates that for every mural reconstructed, perhaps two or more are lost. But mural restoration is only part of the public art movement today. Many artists are interested in creating wholly new work, and some argue that spending money on restoration may inhibit the painting of new projects in the city.  Other artists wonder if there could be a similar public art movement now.

“I don’t know if [the same kind] of mural art exists any more,” says Yasko. “We need to have a new idea, a strength of ‘saying’ to work with the public. I don’t know if it exists in the cities.”

In Pilsen, says Raya, the murals represent community identity. “One problem with not having a history, is not having a collective identity,” he says. “The murals reflect our fight to have our own alderman, [our own high school.]”

Raya says the buildings reflect Pilsen’s working class struggle to become part of the city, and that they’re being torn out to be replaced by condos. By losing that history, Raya says, “we’re becoming the city of big shoulders. And no head.”

Listen to an audio version of this story.

The sea. “It’s mesmerizing,” says Helene Steene, an abstract artist who grew up in Sweden. “I’ve seen it during heavy, heavy storms, in shades of wine-colored red to purple.” Steen stares at the water from her seaside bungalow in Paros, Greece, which she bought twenty-four years ago with her then-husband. While they vacationed with Swedish friends on the tiny island, a Greek man bedecked in gold chains insisted they look at a house for sale. “We looked at each other and said, ‘This makes no sense at all.’ But we went home and scraped the money together and bought it.”

Steene’s abstract art paintings, currently on view at Logsdon 1909 Gallery, pay homage to her summer place in Paros. “Aegean Cove” is a series of eight panels that capture the ocean at various times. A close-up view of part of “Aegean Cove VI” shows a wooden slab layered with acrylic, marble dust, sand and oil glazing. Pure pigments and intense dry powders are next, followed by sanded aluminum shapes and blocks. The forms resemble chapel roofs and Greek columns lying sideways. “Aegean Cove” exudes beauty and poetry, energy and movement. It is Greek frescoes and a crashing, soothing, ever-changing ocean.

A section of “Dilion” shows a swath of red splashed with orange and green paint, topped by aluminum shapes. The rich layers of paint produce a depth and vibrancy that command attention. Red is the color of love, Apollo is the god of love, and remnants of Apollo’s temple are found in Dilion on Paros. Moreover, the temple area that honors Asklepios, the god of healing, gave Steene the name for her mixed media show: “My Asklepion.”

Greece is the inspiration for Steene’s exhibit, but Japanese-born artist Kenzo Okada was a strong influence. Steene discovered his work after marrying an American, moving to D.C., and studying art at George Washington University. While wandering around The Phillips Collection museum, she found Okada’s paintings. Struck by the colors, layering, and build-up of different surfaces, she ran to her teacher’s office, and said, “I don’t understand it. What is this?” It was abstract art, and she was hooked. Her love for this art form “has stayed with me through all these years—through fiber, weaving, collage, painting,” she says.

Following a 1987 move to Lexington, Kentucky, Steene worked on her art and raised her children. Then she returned to school. In 2004, she received her MFA from the University of Kentucky and committed to working as a full-time artist. Lexington may be a small, traditional place, but it has a vibrant art scene, she says.

When Steene began her seascape art, she considered painting only in blue. Instead, she put down the opposite color of orange. Then she sanded, scraped, lifted, pulled—and painted blue on top. Her work is indicative of her admiration for Kenzo Okada and her belief in Japanese philosophy. She says, “You have many disharmonies, things that scrape on each other a bit. But ultimately you can make it all come together.” (Sarah Klose)

Helene Steene shows at Logsdon 1909 Gallery, 1909 S. Halsted, (312)666-8966. Saturdays noon-5pm and by appointment: call the artist at (859)684-1716. Through December 6.

RECOMMENDED

“Headlines” is Nat Soti’s latest series of collage-based work, relying heavily on politics and pop culture. The pieces are constructed primarily from issues of Time magazine that remind the viewer of the influence the media has on our decisions regarding issues such as American politics, religion and technology.  As co-founder of the Chicago Art Department, Soti has created an environment in the gallery and his show promotes communication and debate.  “Headlines” is a show that seems to be produced by a political pundit without an agenda.  “I just wanted to get you to think about it,” says Soti in regard to the messages portrayed in pieces portraying headless, business-suited men, representative of the American politician. Although the work is accessible, it lacks a sense of opinion, leaving the viewer to fill in the blank. That blank can be filled in on the canvas hung near the entrance labeled, “ENOUGH.”  Markers are available to any viewer who would like to voice their own opinion on the piece, ultimately reminding them that the show and its political message is more than a spectator sport. (Shama Dardai)

Through September 26 at Chicago Art Department, 1837 S. Halsted

In “Under the Influence” Jaime Mendoza presents a series of five works that address the symbiotic relationship between artist and critic. These paintings, photographs and multimedia installations illustrate moments in the artist’s personal struggle to maintain an impassioned practice in the face of public scrutiny. The artist, Mendoza argues, seeks solace from the anxiety that accompanies such a struggle. He poses the question of “whether the socially prescribed salves for the soul offer an actual remedy or stifle creativity, distorting the artist’s vision.” The answer, apparently, is the latter. Mendoza skims the surface of issues such as rejection, criticism, depression and public exposure in a pathetically one-dimensional and somewhat cliché approach. In his installation, “SUBMISSIONS,” an archetypal rejection letter from a major art museum looms framed above Mendoza’s polite reply as well as a pile of shredded papers that stand as a flaccid representation of his subsequent frustration at the denied proposal. Another display of painfully hackneyed imagery and attitude is present in “‘AMA ME SIENTO BEIN – ALL BETTER MOM,” which includes a small diorama of a red figurine traveling down a path of razor blades amidst a landscape of empty prescription pill containers. The best work to come out of this show is an unseen woman’s screaming orgasm, heard in the four-minute looping video “SOLACE IN B SHARP.” Unfortunately, Mendoza’s current exhibition in entirety comes nowhere near achieving a similar effect for the viewer. (Jamie Keesling)

Through September 27 at Antena, 1765 S. Laflin

John Riepenhoff's poster design at Suburban

Many new and established art galleries function as gallery spaces and homes. Outside the clusters of galleries, these spaces, such as Pilsen’s Antena, Oak Park’s Suburban and Albany Park’s Swimming Pool Project Space make room for art beside the furniture. Profit is not the motive; rather, it’s all about exposure, for artists and viewers, and creative expression. “We have an art world that doesn’t value artists,” notes Michelle Grabner, co-owner of the nine-year-old Suburban gallery. “Dealers and curators are running the shots, artists really don’t have the kind of control and decision making they once had.”

Filling that void, art spaces such as Suburban and Antena allow artists free reign in terms of artistic and curatorial control. Antena, a new space that opened in March, is run out of founder Miguel Cortez’s apartment. “Artists are allowed to repaint the walls, transform the space for a show,” Cortez says, who shifted focus to his new space after running Pilsen’s Polvo gallery for years. Polvo continues to publish a quarterly magazine with artist profiles.

Art openings at both Suburban and Antena provide a gathering spot for the arts community. At Suburban, openings now take place on Sunday afternoons in the yard of Grabner’s house, with bratwurst and beer during the warm months, coffee and sweets during the winter. Antena’s openings, which take place in Cortez’s apartment, are equally informal. And through these events artists gain access to networks and visibility.

“We are neither a commercial nor a non-profit space,” notes Grabner. And the same goes for Antena, which aims to be a forum for artists in need of a middle ground alternative space.

Swimming Pool Project Space, opened July 2008, appearing as a commercial storefront, provides a springboard for emerging contemporary artists from Chicago and abroad. Pool parties—openings that take place around the glossy blue wooden floor that resembles a swimming pool—provide a place for artists and community members to interact. “This where people meet, artists or not, it’s public space where conversation occurs, not a bar but an art space,” says co-owner Liz Nielsen. The next exhibition, “Video as Video: Rewind to Form,” is curated by art critic Alicia Eler and artist Peregrine Honig, and opens September 20. (Marla Seidell)

Are The Lucky Dragons artists or are they musicians? Who cares. This cross-genre, Los Angeles-based duo is spending nearly a week in town, with a full schedule of concerts, talks and workshops and a warm-up band in tow. Harvard graduate Luke Fishbeck and compatriot Sarah Rara, along with friends from the electronically driven band Hecuba, aim to deliver bite-sized increments of their grand art vision all across town. Fronted by the musical irony of their cheeky yet cerebral chums from out west, the Lucky Dragons have a subtle, but accessible, art assault planned for us that shouldn’t be too hard to swallow.

Starting on August 29 with a concert at High Concept Labs, and then moving onto Fulton Street’s dual-purpose venue AV-aerie on Saturday, the bands will perform and offer an array of interactive, musical treats ranging from situation-based activities to homemade instruments provided for audience participation. While Hecuba’s approach is more straightforward—sometimes sounding like Peaches if she hadn’t cheapened her act with sophomoric, sexual one-liners—The Lucky Dragons interact directly with spectators and encourage them to become part of the performance. Providing objects like ropes with embedded microphones and rocks whose minerals transfer frequencies through human flesh to produce theraminesque sounds, Fishbeck and Rara invite willing participants to explore their vision of art and music as ends in themselves.

Their charming, wacky act and art-worldview will continue on August 31 at the Golden Age Bookstore in West Pilsen. There, the two will unroll a huge piece of fabric, upon which art folks and unassuming locals will paint their asses off, producing the latest in an ongoing project that they call the Sumi Ink Project. Sumi calligraphy, originally based on East Asian wash painting in black ink, might serve as a nice basis for their would-be hubris project, if only they were egotistical enough to force their vision into an ego-based project. Instead, The Lucky Dragons focus on all-ages venues and develop artworks and performances that give access to earnestly curious people. (Andrew Loughnane)

The Lucky Dragons perform at various venues August 29-September 2. Visit www.hawksandsparrows.org for complete details.

Female powerhouses of contemporary urban art from Chicago and across the country are being featured in a group show this Saturday to benefit the Connections for Abused Women and their Children (cawc.org). Featured artists include the organizer Monstrochika, who has painted various murals around the country including at the B-Girl Be Summit, a celebration of women in Hip-Hop, in Minneapolis. This summit was where she became inspired to put together the Defenders of the Earth Show. Defenders also includes work by TooFly of NYC, legendary Chicago graffiti writer Stef, spoken word performances by Lady Death Stryke and rap artist PoR. The evening is likely to be a smorgasbord of socially interactive events including tarot card readings by Divinita Lunare, a handmade craft market, and raffles. With the aesthetics of urban art multiplying into all aspects of culture while all too often remaining a male dominated genre, these women are not only defending but also redefining. The event will be preceded by a free children’s fair from 12pm to 5pm with food crafts and face painting. (Sara McCool)

1100 W. Cermak, Saturday August 23, 6pm-12am. $5 cover.

High Hopes
From shelter to shelter, hope poses as a novelty that always falls in high demand, but this week, after an effort fronted by local mural specialist Augustina Droze, a renewed sense of optimism will take root at the Great Hope Family Center—a homeless shelter located in Pilsen—and will make its way into the shelter from the outside-in. “I designed the mural to be garden-themed as a play on words with the shelter’s name,” the artist explains. On display on one of the shelter’s outside walls, Droze’s latest, completed with quite a bit of help and inspiration from Chicago Public School students, encapsulates the message of “Great Hope” and converts it into a slightly more sustainable “Hope Garden.” Incorporating student-designed flowers based off of their dreams of the future, the final result—to be revealed on location this Thursday—depicts the future as something capable of cultivation regardless of circumstance. “Whether they enjoy painting or painting on walls in general, the kids love it,” Droze says.

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From the street, you may think it’s hay. Grass. Something organic, harvested from right from the gallery floor. It streams out of the walls, tapering down into tail formation, filament-covered knolls flowing across the Chicago Arts District. The illusion, however, is short lived, and quickly the landscape shows itself for what it really is: paper. Tons upon tons of shredded paper, culled from a single address. During a residency at BauerLatoza Studio, artist Barbara Hashimoto collected staff members’ junk mail for one year, hand-shredding the unsolicited deliveries daily. The resulting roughage—all 3,000 cubic feet of it—became the primary medium for “Junk Mail,” which continues to evolve with each performance by Hashimoto and her guest artists. The message behind “Junk Mail” is obvious, but subtlety is not the point here. It seems that for all our “Inconvenient Truth”s and green marketing, it isn’t until we are slapped in the face with some tangible evidence of our eco-ignorance (say, 3,000 cubic feet of evidence) that society recognizes the true weight of their actions. Though “Junk Mail”’s performative elements are exhibited only on select dates, the sight of so much day-to-day waste collected in one place is a harrowingly effective wake-up call, even for those who think their eyes are already wide open. (Jaime Calder)

Through September 12 at Chicago Arts District, 2003 S. Halsted, (312) 738-8000. 

RECOMMENDED

“Death” comes in myriad forms, as is made plain by the twelve photographers—six from Chicago and six from New York—who give us suites of Polaroid images in this tight conceptual show, inspired by the demise of instant-print technology. Among the memento mori here are Brett Ryan’s decommissioned and derelict prison, Gina Mauro’s relatives who have passed away and appropriated images dredged up from garage sales to which Anthony Vizzari has appended stories that he made up about their subjects, giving them lives they never had—perhaps the ultimate death. The most intriguing take on Thanatos is curators Nicole Kenney’s and K.S. Rives’ project of taking headshots of anyone they can seduce and having their prey write beneath their “portraits” their answers to the question: “What do you want to do before you die?” A study in democratic existentialism, Kenney’s and Rives’ ever-expanding grid is an acid test of authenticity that most of their subjects fail, with exceptions like the young man who writes, “I want to LIVE.” (Michael Weinstein)

Through August 31 at the Chicago Art Department, 1837 South Halsted, (312)226-8601.