art in storefronts - part 3

The experience:

In all of the hustle and bustle to install my window I remember at some point questioning my sanity and asking myself, “ How did I get myself into this?” There are challenges that come with transforming your work from a standard display and creating it into a window display. It didn’t help that the walls were made of plaster and nails just crumbled the surface and flew out under the smallest bit of pressure. The fact that the floor was uneven and the ladder wobbly didn’t help either. It also didn’t help that here I was walking onto a block as the outsider among people who at first glance seemed a bit intimidating. Sure I’d lived in this area of the city yet that was more than 20 years ago.

I introduced myself to the owner of the store on the corner. In fact, the store is called ‘Da Corner’. He was a really cool older guy with a mellow disposition sitting in his store watching court TV shows in between his sales of t-shirts, hats, jeans, shoes, movies, gum, hair accessories and other apparel. At one point he even let me borrow his ladder. I also met a few of the neighbors who lived in the apartments above the storefronts. A guy named Ruben offered to help me and said just to knock on his door if I needed anything. He told me his wife Renee had just given birth to a baby boy and I congratulated him as he stood in his work clothes telling me about some kind of moving dolly he had if I needed it and beaming like a proud papa as he spoke of his son. When I told him about the art in storefronts program he seemed excited and pleased.
One day I saw two Mexican women coming out their door. We greeted each other and I said hello but our conversation didn’t go much further because they didn’t speak much English and while I can understand some Spanish, I cannot speak it. Meanwhile there was the crew of guys hanging out on the corner in front of the liquor store. I didn’t find out until later just how much talk had been going on among clusters of people as they tried to figure out what was happening behind those veiled windows. One day when I came out of the store to go home, and an older black woman greeted me from the passenger side of a car that sat out in front. “I heard you are opening an art studio! Welcome to the neighborhood!” She and the older gentleman in the driver’s seat both smiled. I told them about the storefront installation and they asked me when they’d be able to see it. The woman pointed to her apartment and told me how excited she was that they were “putting in something uplifting in the neighborhood.” She reached out for my hand and said, “Thank you for being an artist”. That really moved me.

I watched the block and they watched me. I saw a mother getting off the train at the same time each day with her child, a little girl wearing a pink plastic backpack. I saw a construction worker returning home from work. I saw that dancing lady I’d seen the first day I’d gone to the storefront. Each time she walked the block in a different state of lucidity. I saw kids come and go, families boarding the train, people delivering packages. I saw a neighborhood with its daily routine of life and found myself excited to share art with people who might not necessarily go to openings and museums. I’ve always wanted to make art less intimidating, more accessible, a part of life.