More Than Just a Pretty Picture
The unveiling of her hometown mural helped Renee realize that there was more to her project than just paint on a wall. “For me, part of the [50 in 50] project is to kind of lead people to the mural and for that mural to be the starting point for them to explore the area,” Renee shared. That area, for Renee at least, is main street, or downtown. “That’s where the heartbeat is.”
Downtowns were historically the epicenter of energy, she continues. “That was the place to be; it’s where you spent time with friends and where your family grew and where everything happened.”
She’s spoken to fourth-generation business owners who recall the stories of their parents and grandparents. Even in towns of less than 5,000 people, many remember nights at the long-gone roller rink, funnel cake at the weekend markets and the buzz of an average Friday night in the summer. Much of this vivacity has fractured as industries relocated, populations feathered farther away from main street, and satellite strip malls whisked away patrons who were left with no option but to drive for errands and recreation.
What she's discovered in her conversations is that, more than anything, locals want to breathe life back into downtown. “It makes sense. That's where a lot of their roots, their history and their heritage is located. And people just love that.”
Of course, a mural won’t single-handedly save a small town from industry loss and a shrinking population, but the payoff of public art shouldn’t be underestimated. Large-scale murals are repeatedly praised for their positive impact on individual and community well-being, even inspiring neighborhood activism and a sense of belonging and safety. When I asked Strong Towns Director of Community Action Edward Erfurt whether he believes in the power of paint, he underscored the potential for public art to reintroduce dignity to a place.
At the mention of dignity, I couldn’t help but think of my own city of Philadelphia, the unofficial mural capital of the world. Many of the city’s murals overlook vacant or blighted lots, activating otherwise unassuming locations in the city’s most disenfranchised neighborhoods. I’ve witnessed public art transform unofficial dumping sites into community gardens. Neighbors who were formerly disinterested in looking after an abandoned adjacent lot readily assume stewardship with the introduction of some eye candy.
“I really learned how art could make a difference,” Jane Golden, the executive director of Mural Arts Philadelphia, once said in an interview. “How it could be a galvanizing tool, how it could take people from feeling that they were on the margins and would never be heard or seen, and shine a light on the authors of people throughout the city.”
In the Spring, Emma Durand-Wood, a longtime Strong Towns contributor, concluded the same while planning a neighborhood walk. “We typically think of public art as about adding character, personality, beauty or visual interest to a place. Part of that can be communicating ideas about a place’s values, past, hopes for the future, or its community,” she wrote. “But I had never really thought about the potential of public art as a functional part of the built environment until I was mulling over ideas for this Jane’s Walk.”
For Durand-Wood, that function can include traffic calming, such as the edge friction created by colorful curb extensions and painted median marbles in her neighborhood. That function also extends beyond the physical: “The process of creating public art, and the connections that are made and nurtured during this process, can be as valuable as the end result,” she wrote. “As Gracen Johnson says, public art ‘can change the way people feel about each other and their ability to shape their environment.’”