Yeah, ain’t it the truth?

My friend Aaron Nathan directed me to these walls on 16th Street where it crosses Ashland in Chicago’s Lower West Side Pilsen neighborhood. I appreciate the advice; I never would have found them on my own. Pilsen is home to many Mexican families, and you can see the Latin American influence in the Day of the Dead images, among others.

Not everyone here shares my enthusiasm for this unauthorized public art. One local politician calls graffiti “a cancer on the city” and “the second biggest problem that we have, after shootings.” That seems a bit hyperbolic, doesn’t it? Meanwhile, the mayor of Chicago wants to increase the fines for graffiti from $750 to between $1,500 and $2,500. I suppose that the hand-wringing over graffiti is directed more toward people who tag public property with gang symbols than it is toward muralists like the ones who create the images I’ve been posting. But the law makes no distinction between a gang tag and a work of art. It’s sometimes hard to tell the difference.

Under the “broken windows” theory of policing, graffiti can make people feel unsafe, which causes people to shy away from the places where they see it, and which in turn creates a situation where the bad guys rule the streets. Perhaps that’s true. I also understand that not all graffiti is as beautiful as the murals I’ve photographed. My point is only that when I saw these walls in Pilsen, I felt more safe. The street felt happy, joyous, loved, and like a real neighborhood. I would actually have felt a little apprehensive walking around the area if I only saw ugly blank decaying concrete and cinder block walls.

When I arrived in Chicago, among the first questions I asked friends and acquaintances was where to go to see good graffiti — unauthorized public art. Betsy Rubin, who, like me enjoys photographing such stuff, suggested I check out 27th Street where it crosses Kedzie. Yesterday morning it was clear and sunny here for a change, so I took her suggestion.

The intersection turned out to be in Little Village, a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood with a friendly feel to it. The walls that elevate the METRA tracks there have been turned into a de facto outdoor gallery that shows off some amazing work.

I was here:

The images lining the walls are strong and precise. They’re perfectly proportioned. The colors pop and reveal often intricate details. Now consider that the artists who created them didn’t have control over their site and that they were working illegally, probably dodging police patrols during the night hours. Consider, too, that their work could lawfully be painted over, sandblasted, and destroyed by the authorities in a day. As I suspect the artists intended, I kept thinking about those challenges as I walked along the walls. There’s a certain how-did-they-do-that boastfulness in their works that, for me, contributes to the sense of wonder and delight I got when I was looking at them.

There are many murals here in Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago, and more are apparently in the works.

People stand under the METRA viaduct at 56th and Harper. They cluster in groups like this, each with an answer to the question, Where are you going?

This mural is painted on rough concrete and exposed to the harsh Chicago elements. Close-ups show the graceful decay of the images. This art isn’t static; it changes with the winters.

Under the viaducts, short quotes from neighborhood residents were painted on the columns, all answering the question, Where are you going?

Further down the wall, another mural began.

I was struck by the fact that these murals were painted or refurbished years ago and still look good. They haven’t been tagged or painted over by graffiti artists. While I usually prefer unauthorized and unofficial public art, perhaps the METRA is on to something here. If you put up good publicly-sponsored art, then people will respect the city’s overpasses far more than if you leave them concrete blank or put up bad art.

South along the METRA tracks, at 57th street, there are other murals, these definitely more political. They have been criticized as being “leftist.” (I can’t help but wonder if the murals had shown a happy managerial class if they would have been considered “rightist.”)

It’s a pleasure to walk through these underpasses. It gives the neighborhood a friendly vibe, as if the folks under the viaduct are there to welcome newcomers. And new workers, as well.