Art and Revolution

 

Photo by Thom Lang. Quote from Paul Gauguin. Haiku on 42nd Street curated by Dee Evetts.

In 1970, after I had saved up enough money from my very first job as a waitress at Howard Johnson's, in Norwalk, Connecticut, I took my mother to New York City to see the Broadway musical, The Boyfriend with Judy Carne and Sandy Duncan. My mother, disabled in a car crash that nearly killed her, had been a child tap dancer in Vaudeville. And so, watching Judy and Sandy shuffling off to Buffalo on stage—well, it was deeply moving. Something I never forgot.

But even back then, Times Square was the definition of seedy. And by 1976 the City was way beyond seedy. It was downright treacherous. Prostitutes and pimps, pick-pockets and porn, porn, porn. It was not pleasant, but it was real life and as a twenty-something, I accepted this as part of the price of living in the city that never sleeps.

Then, the 1990's brought Giuliani and the Disneyfication of Times Square and--money, money money. But before the old buildings were completely demolished, in the middle of the big clean-up, as a hush came over the streets--there was a magical time when poetry ruled the day and the artists and writers took over the old theater marquees and spoke of revolution and change.

Today, we are living through something similar. In the name of efficiency and improvement, our imperfect country is being demolished, bulldozed, chopped down and supposedly cleaned up.

Creative Friends--the future is ahead of us, unknown and unknowable. You may be feeling frightened, but dare I say that this is a time of great opportunity. Artists have always done their best work in the liminal space--under the radar. Knowing this—it’s time to go forth and crank out those flyers, come up with a brilliantly funny, scathing and powerful slogan. Put your haiku up on a billboard, a marquee. Go ahead, write that song of revolution.

I swear it’s not too late.

Love,

Jamie