Art, at McDonough & Sawtell

The Living Walls Conference, a street art event, was in Atlanta this month, from August 15 to 19.  This year the featured artists were women, and as part of the conference, new works of art were created in several Atlanta neighborhoods.  The conference's murals didn't go up in Morningside or Virginia Highland or Garden Hills; they are in the Old 4th Ward, and Reynoldstown and other neighborhoods that I don't even know where they are.  I only made it to one of the Conference's events, the lectures and discussion on August 18, and that was terrific, but I've been trying to make the rounds to see the murals.  None of the them are on the way to anywhere that I go, so it requires a special trip.

The weekend before last I went to see the mural on Irwin Street and the ones or or near Edgewood Avenue.  There are multiple murals on Edgewood -- some from previous Living Walls events, possibly -- and I'd never just walked around the neighborhood before.  There are some bars and restaurants that look like they'd be worth visiting, and a small art gallery, and some vacant commercial space that could become something interesting.  Living Walls had a block party on Edgewood on August 16.  I'm sure the bars and restaurants were full that night; I hope that some of the people who came there for the first time that night come back.  If the nearby apartments ever read reasonable occupancy rates, there will be enough population density in the area to support more businesses.  There are wonderful storefront spaces there, just waiting for more people.

But the big news out of Living Walls was the mural by the Argentinian artist Hyuro in southeast Atlanta.  On a bleak wall across the street from the grounds of the Federal penitentiary are multiple images of a woman, like frames from a movie.  In the first image, if the beginning is on the far left, she is facing forward.  She turns to her right, and then, with her back to the view, something appears, that may be hair, that gets denser and darker and by the time she completes the turn, it has become a jumpsuit.  She keeps turning, and she slips the jumpsuit off her shoulders and then -- her back once again to the viewer -- she steps out of it.  The garment lies at her feet and as she once again faces the viewer it is transformed into a wolf.  The wolf walks away, and the woman disappears.  It's a wonderful, evocative, magical work that engages the viewer and provokes thought and conversation, and -- at the time I am writing this -- it may no longer be there.

It does feature, prominently, multiple images of a nude woman, and because of that, there was some controversy.  It's not clear to me that it was real controversy -- much of the neighborhood seemed to be supportive -- but the kind that the media stirs up just to stir something up, until the property owner finally gets tired of the phone calls and says the paint the damn thing over.  

I was afraid this would happen, so last Sunday Sarah and I went there to see it.  It was amazing to see.

When we arrived, we were the only people there, but others came while we were there.  There were three women and a little girl, and then later another woman came.  Like me, the other adults were taking pictures.   It was like visiting a museum, there on the corner of McDonough and Sawtell, across from the prison.  I wished there had been someone to thank, or a cafe or coffee shop nearby where we could have stopped for a bite to eat or something to drink and told someone we were glad we had a chance to see the mural.  But there wasn't, so we walked back to the car and went home.

We had parked a block or two away on a residential street, and Sarah spotted this sign there:

But I think it's too late.