cu ltivate s the skills and professional development of e merging cre ative s to make in dianapolis a world-class destination for cu lture , fa sh ion , art, and music .
by inve sting in the training and mentorship of the n ex t gen er ation of talent, we will help to develop tomorrow
s cu ltu r al workforce in central indiana.
I’VE CAUGHT MYSELF FEELING NOSTALGIC FOR THE EARLY DAYS of PATTERN–early days we shared with Big Car, Dreamopolis, Oranje, People for Urban Progress, Printtext, iMOCA, PechaKucha, and many others. Do you remember Fashion’s Night Out? Maaaannnn!! It was a time when the energy and the buzz of potential in Indy was palpable. If you were here for it, then you know what I’m talking about.
SADLY, NOT ALL OF THE CULTURAL VENTURES LISTED ABOVE ARE ALIVE today. Some shut down long before the pandemic, others because of it, but driving around Indy late last fall, it was hard for me not to feel downhearted seeing Indy looking like it had time warped back to 1998, the year I moved here from Chicago.
THANKFULLY, I RECEIVED AN INVITATION TO GRAB A DRINK AT STRANGE BIRD, AND I’M NOT SURE ANYTHING could have lifted my urban spirits the way that night at a little tiki bar in Irvington did. I felt the familiar sense of pride in this city creeping back in, and once I opened up to the possibility, I couldn’t stop seeing it.
FAST FORWARD SIX MONTHS AND INDY IS BURSTING AT THE SEAMS WITH EVENTS, NEW RESTAURANTS and bars, and significant infrastructure projects throughout the region that will make our downtown and neighborhoods feel more cosmopolitan–and just maybe, more equitable?
I WAS SUDDENLY LEFT WONDERING IF I WASN’T HIP TO ALL THE NEW AND EXCITING EXPERIMENTS springing up to replace those that have gone by the wayside, perhaps others were missing out on signs of cultural spring in our city and state, too. So our team went a-lookin’, and we found plenty of new (to us!) and intriguing efforts happening all around us, all the way from Gary in the north down to New Harmony in the south.
THIS STATEWIDE SURVEY OF NEW MOJO BEGS THE QUESTION: WHAT ARE WE HOOSIERS MOST PROUD OF? If many Hoosiers stand for family values, many also stand for gay pride. In theory, why can’t these exist as two sides of the same cool coin?
AS TIME ROLLS ON, I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO THE REMINDERS OF WHY I FELL IN LOVE WITH INDY IN THE first place, and nothing rejuvenates my regard than discovering new cultural hotspots, and connecting with dreamers young and old who want to take a run at making Indy a better place for those of us who use the right side of our brains.
SOME OF THIS ACTIVITY IS HAPPENING DUE TO PENT-UP DEMAND, BUT SOME IS SURELY THE RESULT OF the unprecedented amount of financial support unleashed on culture and arts communities to prevent them from drying up completely during a two-year forced hiatus. It’s always nice to have some startup cash to get things rolling, right?
AS ALWAYS, THERE ARE FAR MORE STORIES TO TELL THAN THERE IS SPACE TO SHARE THEM … SO WE HOPE you will forgive us if some noteworthy amenity or story has been omitted. I welcome your feedback. Don’t forget PATTERN has a digital magazine as well–and we’re always looking for uplifting stories about our home state, its creatives as well as those who make creative self-expression possible.
HERE’S TO INDY & INDIANA!
PHOTO ©BENJAMIN BLEVINS POLINA OSHEROV EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
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FASHIONING A COMMUNITY
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Alexa Carr
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Kary Kovert Pray
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PATTERN ISSUE NO. 21
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EDITOR’S LETTER, 2
CONTRIBUTORS, 8
Q+A KELVIN BURZON, 18
HOODOX, 20
ALL MADE UP, 26
REVVING UP, 32
HIT PARADE, 34
Q + A CHRIS NEWELL, 45
HOOSIER PRIDE, 47
THE WHITE RIVER
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NEW HARMONY, IN
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HUNTINGTON, IN
ALI BOMAYE, ALI BOMAYE, 82
Q+A MAURICE BROADDUS, 84
COWBOY GOVERNOR, 86
IN-RESIDENCE, 92
ABOUT FACE, 100
EXTRAORDINARY GARY, 102
FRIEDA GRAVES
SAMUEL LOVE
LAUREN PACHECO
MAYOR JEROME PRINCE
DECAY DEVILS
OP-ED, 136
SATIN FINISH, 10
NEON THAW, 116
LIVING IN COLOR, 126
VOLUME 20 POP-UP, 134
ON THE COVER Angelina (Heyman Talent Agency)
Photography by Polina Osherov
Style by Laura Walters for Style Riot
Makeup by Jon Gregory and India Hall (Aesthetic Artist Agency)
Assisted by Alexa Carr
ON THIS PAGE
Joey Rose (Heyman Talent Agency)
Photography by Polina Osherov
Assisted by Esther Boston
Style by Laura Walters for Style Riot
Makeup by Kimberly Harris (Aesthetic Artist Agency)
Hair by Philip Salmon
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Clintisaphotographerwhocurrently residesinIndianapolis.Hefinds passioninhisworkbyliftingup individualsandsharingwhathe learnsaboutthemthroughvisual storytelling.Heisexcitedtocreate moreeachdayandspreadthelove. Ahandfulofyearsago,Iwas blessedtohaveapieceofwork publishedintheKurtVonnegut Museumliteraryjournal.
www.clintkearney.com
@hellohoosier
Myriam Nicodemus is a self taught photographer and filmmaker based in South Bend, Indiana. She began her career as a photojournalist while stationed in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri as a military spouse and started her own photography and videography business while stationed overseas in Germany. She is originally from Guatemala and believes her love of photography and cinema came from a longing to fit in as a newly implanted immigrant in America. She is also the Founder and Executive Director of EM EN. EM EN empowers artists to create for a living by reducing barriers to that dream by addressing issues including access to space, knowledge capital, and tools that are necessary to elevate an artist’s practice to a full-time and professional level so that they can become full time artists.
Phillip Barcio is an author, journalist, art historian, radio host, filmmaker, public speaker, plant-based Neapolitan pizza expert, cocktail aficionado, hyper-competitive amateur bowler, social media skeptic, degrowth proponent, animal protector, maker of antiracist choices, and member of the executive team at Kavi Gupta gallery in Chicago. His writing has been published in dozens of publications, including Hyperallergic, Tikkun, Momus, New Art Examiner, PATTERN, Western Humanities Review, and MichiganQuarterlyReview,amongmany others.Heholdsadegreeinfilmmaking from Vancouver Film School, and degreesinTheaterandPhotojournalism fromBallStateUniversity. One of my proudest moments occurred when I was 8 years old and some adult asked me directions how to get somewhere. I told them. Then later on they came back around and let me know my directions were right. I wasn’t surprised of course. But they said they were impressed that a little kid knew the city so well. It felt good for once to have an adult acknowledge that my brain worked just fine. I never forget that experience whenever I’m around kids. They’re more aware of what’s going on than it seems.
philbarcio.com
Starting EM EN because of my son and creatives like him. Everytime we get to meet and work with a new creative artist through EM EN, I feel incredibly grateful and proud that this exists now and that people are participating and building a community alongside us.
myriamnicodemus.com @mnphotofilm
Dylan
is
Over
he has contributed to the local shopping and fashion coverage for the magazine’s lifestyle section. He previously interned for PATTERN magazine, and worked at its former companion store on Mass Ave. One of my proudest moments was when I overcame my fear of public speaking to join a panelist discussion at the Indiana Fashion Foundation’s 2021 Making it IN Fashion industry conference where I talked about how my work intersects with the fashion industry.
@dyllhodgIris Williamson is a curator, arts upadministrator,andartistwhogrew regularlyontheFloridacoast,whereshe encounteredbothalligators and shuttle launches from her backwindow.Shecurrentlydirectsand curatesNewHarmonyGalleryofContemporaryArt,Universityof Southern Indiana and is 2021-2022 ofCurator-in-ResidenceatUniversity WilliamsonOregon’sCenterforArtResearch. co-founded HOLDING ORContemporary,agalleryinPortland, with an alternative business modelthatexaminestheprivilegeoftheArt World. Her curatorial research centers around how labor, economics, and the built environment affects individuals and communities. I’mveryproudofthegalleryI Inco-founded,HOLDINGContemporary. subsidizedlate2016,Iwasgiftedaspaceata ratetostartachallenging PearlexhibitionspaceinPortland,Oregon’s Arts District. While it was a wonderfulopportunity,itwasstill debtfinanciallybeyondreach(Istillhad frompreviousartist-runspaces).Afterresearchingdifferentgallery models within the art world as well as broader business structures outsideoftheartworld,nothingseemed feasible until we arrived at the conceptofaShareholderProgram. theConceptuallyapplyingthemodelof financial stock market to the art theworld,HOLDINGContemporaryoffers $100/eachpublic“shares”ofthegalleryfor asawaytosupportan whoemergingartsspace.Shareholders, lovers,areartists,professors,art-friends,andsupportersfrom aroundtheworld,receivefinancialandstatements,votingopportunities, dividends based on sales. TheShareholderprogramhasallowed HOLDINGContemporarytosupport whilecontemporaryartists’artandideas privilege,confrontingideasofpower,andaccessintheArtWorldofforfiveyears.Iamincrediblyproud artiststhisprojectandthankfulforthe and individuals I’ve been able to work with.
@nhgca
@holdingcontemporary
TabithaBarbourisacreative entrepreneurinIndianapolis.Shehas avarietyofpassionsincludingevent management,culinaryarts,writing, fashionandbeauty,andvlogging.
Tabithagraduatedwithhonorsfrom ButlerUniversityin2017,whereshe earnedadegreeinEnglishwithminors inGender,Women,andSexuality StudiesandPoliticalScience. I’mproudtohaveplannedand executedtheIndyPrideVirtual Festival2020and2021.
@tabithabarbour
PHOTOGRAPHY BY POLINA OSHEROV
ASSISTED BY ALEXA CARR
STYLE BY LAURA WALTERS FOR STYLE RIOT
MAKEUP BY JON GREGORY AND INDIA HALL (AESTHETIC ARTIST AGENCY)
MODELS: NEGUS & ANGELINA (HEYMAN TALENT)
DESIGN BY CARRIE KELB
Kelvin Burzon is a Filipino-American artist whose work explores the intersection of sexuality, race, gender, and religion. In his recent series of work, members of the queer community, found on the gay dating app Grindr, pose as figures from traditional Catholic imagery.
DYLAN LEE HODGES: How would you define pride?
KELVIN BURZON: Pride, for me, is more internal than a public understanding of what pride means. When I say internal, I mean that it’s more personal and should be defined per person. It’s easy to fall for Pride month and what it means to be a prideful queer. It’s part of our culture to be campy and to don our rainbows and all these things, but not all queer people are like that. And so, I kind of want to change that definition of pride to something that is going to be personal for each person. So, pride for me means the instances and the moments that I found comfort in myself, accepting who I am, and then trying to follow in those footsteps eventually.
DLH: Was it easy to find your footing and put your work out to the world?
KB: Absolutely not. I found all kinds of ways to avoid talking about it. Like, I would make [work] that had absolutely nothing to do with me, that I didn’t have any interest in, honing in on skills that had nothing to do with the work that I should be making. [I’d do that] just to avoid the subject matter and just to avoid having to communicate it to the world. And I wasn’t prideful then. There was no way I was going to wear a rainbow flag tank top. My work was what helped me develop this pride, this pridefulness, this acceptance. It wasn’t until I was able to make this work, and tell the world about who I am, that I developed into my full-grown identity.
DLH: Have you faced any challenges being an artist?
KB: It was a challenge to get over the initial shock of my work. That was the biggest thing. I tell my students to make work about what keeps them up at night. I avoided that for so long. I knew exactly what I should be doing. It was just the block of my upbring and religion. All these
external influences I knew really had nothing to do with me. It was challenging accepting that and moving on with what I was supposed to be doing in the first place. Since then, there hasn’t really been any issue with making work. It’s endless inspiration for me: religion and the queer community. The stories that are there are ongoing.
DLH: RuPaul’s Drag Race contestant Silky Nutmeg Ganache features a lot in your artwork. For instance, she’s seen as Mary Magdalene in Noli Me Tangere. How did you meet?
KB: She is a friend that I’ve known since college. I was getting my graduate degree at Wabash College when we met. That’s when Silky began doing drag. I’ve watched her drag career go from us driving to Evansville making a gown from Walmart fabric to us being on VH1. I’ve made multiple looks during her times on Drag Race.
DLH: Do you make custom-order gowns?
KB: I do, but it’s not a thing that I advertise. It’s not my profession, it’s a passion. If it was something that I had to do from this hour to this hour, then I’d lose interest. And fashion has always been an escape from the things that I had to do. I fell into it because I’ve always been around garment construction. When I was young, in the Philippines, we would get custom pajamas made by a neighbor. Our Catholic school uniforms were customdone by somebody nearby. I have a grandma who’s a seamstress that does alterations. Within the past six years, I really fell into doing more research about pattern making and actual construction methods. I started transitioning my closet out of bought clothing and started making my own clothes. Then really it was the queer community. It was drag that brought me into this level of costume design.
DLH: How did you manage to use Grindr to find people willing to pose for you?
KB: I got game! (laughs) Seriously though, people want to be photographed. People want to be a part of art. If you say, ‘I’m an artist and a photographer, and I would like to
have you in my studio,’ people are flattered by that.
DLH: Is there a medium you haven’t tried but would like to explore?
KB: I wish I did more technical production stuff like weaving, metal stripping, or jewelry making. I’m lacking experience in it and it’s harder to research and learn.
DLH: Do you feel boxed into religious works?
KB: No, these religious works are just what I fell into. I love [them], and I will probably keep going, but [they’re] not who I am. There are other pieces that I am working on at the same time that look completely different, which is why I don’t feel boxed.
DLH: What other imagery excites you?
KB: My next project, which I have been looking forward to for a long time, is making more textile-based work that explores my identity as a Filipino outside of colonialism. I am doing that through textiles and researching garments and clothing from before the Spanish rule in the Philippines. I’m really interested in the transition between how people dressed in the Philippines and what happened when religion came along making fabric out of pineapples.
DLH: What kind of impact do you want your artistry to make?
KB: I was giving a presentation of my religious and queer work at a national convention for photography. This young queer came up to me and asked, ‘How do I come out to my parents?’ I didn’t answer, because there is no direct answer to that question. But that kind of puts me in a space where my work stands for people, what it can do for people, and what kind of conversations can root out of it. That’s what I want for my art, to keep creating the space for these discussions. ✂
IG @kburzon
Pressing On is a great window into a technique of design you have to love in order to pursue these days. I love the texture in this film. The location and the actual process itself looks very striking on the screen. The filmmakers do a great job of making you want to reach in and get your hand dirty!
-TYSON COCKSThat’s the initial and understandable reaction to Hoodox, the first streaming service to exclusively feature nonfiction content focused on Indiana. It’s short for “Hoosier Documentaries,” and, just like a great documentary, the logic behind Hoodox draws you in quickly—and keeps you engaged as you learn more.
“There’s this metaphorical chasm,” explains Rocky Walls, the organization’s executive director and part of the all-volunteer team behind the not-for-profit. “On one side, you have talented filmmakers, putting forth their own blood, sweat, and tears—and often their own money—to tell a story they think is really, really important.” These stories, he points out, frequently explore issues like racial justice, environmental risks, or overlooked episodes in our history.
“And on the other side,” he continues, “There are all these people in Indiana who would actually love to watch something created locally, by someone who’s invested in the community.” Hoodox serves those of us, Walls theorizes, who have already committed themselves to shopping and dining and are ready, whether we realize it yet or not, to enjoy the benefits of watching local, too.
For $10 per month, or $100 per year, watching local is now a relatively easy thing to do. Which isn’t to say everyone’s going to cancel Netflix, Hulu, and their ilk and start streaming Hoodox exclusively. Even Walls doesn’t expect that; nor do any of the dozen other people on the Hoodox board of directors, which includes filmmakers, executives, and community luminaries from operations including Kan-Kan Cinema & Brasserie, Indy Film Fest, Heartland Film, and the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis.
Rather, Hoodox is meant as a carefully curated supplementary option. Living, as we do, in a world where anybody with a phone can now call themselves a filmmaker with varying results, it’s easy to be overwhelmed by the onslaught of new stuff to watch. It’s also easy to realize that, just by virtue of sheer volume, there’s bound to be more worthwhile work out there than ever before. All we need is a good way to find it. That’s why it’s so useful to see a service with which, as Walls says, “You can feel right away the sense that somebody has really done a good job putting together a certain collection. And they’ve been clear about what you're going to get, and they’re delivering on those expectations honestly.”
When We Were Syrian is this wonderful exploration of the filmmaker’s family history. He narrates the film in a very authentic and enjoyable way and invites you along for the ride as he pieces together the story of how his family came to be where they are today.
-GRANT MICHAEL
It sounds like a humble goal when you put it like that, but the artistry on display in the films of the Hoodox collection—which gets updated regularly—is far from humble. You might choose to dive into an hour-long visit with the proprietor of an urban lumber company. Or a study of the environmental conditions affecting the White River and the young people working to improve the health of this waterway. Or a 16-minute love note to the iconic Chatterbox Jazz Club. Or a penetrating look at America’s need to define Blackness through the eyes, and in the words, of five fascinating people. There’s a lot there.
All of it helps bridge that gap between inspired filmmakers and curious local audiences. What’s more, it all gives voice and visibility to Hoosiers with a gift for truly listening to others’ stories trusting in their power to inspire us—on both sides of the screen. ✂
Food biases aside, since 9th Street Bistro is truly one of my favorite restaurants, The Supper Club artfully tells a story we all probably think we know—passionate restaurant owners fighting to survive during the COVID-19 pandemic—but seeing and hearing the story in this short documentary reveals so much more emotion and raises the stakes that much more. The film is a solid reminder of how valuable our incredible local food businesses really are.
-ROCKY WALLS
One of the best things about documentaries is that they provide a space to hear from unheard voices. No Limits takes you into the lives and experiences of teens with visual impairments. Your heart will burst at the pride and effort that these teens put into raising awareness for accessibility, specifically within the walls of the Eiteljorg Museum.
-LORI BYRD-MCDEVITT
Being in my first full year as a full-time artist, the documentary is what I needed. It was hope! Brian is proof that artists can have a positive impact in the community. He is empowering artists like myself to stand up and share our voices to make a difference. This documentary is a perfect example of why following your dreams and passions are important.
-TORRIE HUDSON
In a world that wants to define the Black community's experience, Rachel Hardy's film highlights five individuals standing their own identity. Black Unscripted speaks to how we define ourselves comes from within and standing up to the external labels assigned to us. It is brave storytelling with characters stepping into the light authentically themselves.
-KATELYN CALHOUN
Documentaries are best, I believe, at telling personal, human stories, and Last Man Fishing does just that. The story is familiar—big industry using their money and power to bend the rules to benefit them, leaving the little guy in the dust—but this was about a topic I wasn't familiar with. While I don't eat a ton of fish in the Midwest, since watching this film, I have made more conscious decisions about where I buy fish. Motivating viewers to take a specific, positive action is one of the best accomplishments a documentary can have in my opinion.
-ZACH DOWNS
In the age of industrial agriculture, Genesis and Eli work non-stop to live out their passion for locally grown goods, wholly separate from commercially and federally incentivized crop production. The job is tough, the conditions are dirty, but the people are real and the produce is the star of the show. Documentaries like More Than Corn challenge us to reach outside what makes us comfortable (both on the screen and in our wallets) and that’s what great storytelling should be about. I hope we get another season.
-JARRED JUETTKatelyn Calhoun is making very important nature documentaries about local wildlife that casual Hoosiers may know nothing about. Snag in the Plan explores the importance of protecting our forests, but more importantly, what inside those forests we are protecting. This film is exactly why Hoodox should exist: educating Hoosiers (and beyond) about their own backyard with heartfelt and impassioned storytelling.
-DANIEL A JACOBSON
At a time when life has been changed for so will make you question what matters most in yours. This film does a great job of telling the story without the creators making you think that its their opinion. They cover all angles and leave enough space for you to determine what the ultimate lessons are and how to apply them best to your own life. After the first time I screened this in person, I made the 40-minute drive home without the radio on. This purposeful act was brought about by the film causing me to evaluate how I can be more present in a time when our attention is being pulled in so many directions.
-CHRIS THEISEN
Dani Oglesby and Jon Gregory are Indianapolisbased hair and makeup artists, respectively, with influence spanning all over the country. They have collaborated on shoots from editorials to bridal parties—and now they are launching BaeBar, a blowout bar and salon team, dedicated to catering to everyone. Read more about their collaborative process, ideas for Indianapolis’s creative sector, and their personal goals and aspirations.
ALEXA CARR: I understand—and have seen first-hand— how well you collaborate together. How many projects have you worked on together?
Dani Oglesby: I can't even count, because whenever I do a creative hair shoot, nobody can do makeup but Jon; I would trust Jon with my life and my career. I know that no matter what I put in front of him, I know he's going to execute it beautifully. We have the same mindset, morals, and values. He's become one of my best friends. I know it’s been more than ten shoots, because of the photos. But I’m not sure specifically, it's been a lot.
AC: How did this continued collaboration come to be?
Jon Gregory: We met at a free outdoor shoot set up through our agency for our portfolios. This was our first publication together actually now that I think of it. After that shoot, Dani and I ended up working on a styled wedding shoot, and I walked away from that shoot with a best friend. I feel so honored that she trusts my work to be featured alongside hers.
AC: That's amazing, and even more impressive to see how many projects you’ve worked on in such a short time. Dani, what's your favorite part about collaborating on shoots with Jon?
DO: It’s easy. He's not just good, he also centers me. I feel like we have the same energy. I would say, in our industry, there are not a lot of people that are okay with collaborating and giving everyone love and recognition, but we truly complement each other.
AC: Jon, what has been your favorite collaboration shoot together so far?
JG: My favorite collaboration with Dani has to be our Shuba Magazine submission. This was a collaboration with Callie Zimmerman, Sariah Borom, Chrison Wilson with LModelz, Dani and me. We shot at Healer—which is an incredible location here in Indy. It offers many different styled sets to shoot in and is full of work from local artists This collaboration really showed how well Dani and I can work together. No one in Indy was doing what Dani was doing and that was truly what drew me in. I’ve held on for dear life ever since.
AC: It's incredible to hear about the level of support that you both clearly have for each other. Tell me about creative hair/makeup shoots and your inspirations for them. DO: The first creative hair shoot I did was the summer of 2020. I don't feel like many people are taking the risk that we're taking on, and I feel like we're changing things. I feel like we're setting the standard for a photographer or hairstylist or makeup artist who probably aren't shooting everybody. As far as inspiration, this might sound crazy, but nine times out of ten, I don't know what I'm going to do when I get to a shoot. I have a general plan in my head, but as far as executing it—especially with the creative hairstyles— until I see a model's face or have my hands in their hair, I really don't know what's possible.
JG: I draw inspiration from my life and things that I see day to day in this job. I don't really necessarily like to draw from fashion magazines because that's already been done. I want to do something that's my own signature. I love putting a new spin on things from my experience and playing with color in new ways.
AC: Dani, I understand that you’ve recently launched BaeBar, and Jon is on the team as well—tell me about this and what you hope to accomplish?
DO: I want to change the industry. I worked at DryBar before, and I was the only person that could take care of Black clients. And I felt like if you're going to put Black women or a woman with textured hair on the brochure, you need to be able to accommodate those types of clients. So I want to create an environment where the people on my team are comfortable putting their hands on all hair textures because cosmetology schools don't teach that. I just want to create an inclusive business, so when you see the Bae’s name, no matter what you look like, no matter your hair texture, no matter what your bridal party looks like, you’ll know we can take care of you and you're going to be comfortable.
JG: I'm going to be putting my heart and soul into that and building the team. We have so many plans and ideas for it, and I'm so excited to see where that goes in the next five, ten years. It's so much different from what is in any industry in the United States; we're trying to show people that this is needed, and it's going to happen here in Indianapolis.
AC: That's so important, and I'm glad that Indianapolis is going to have something like that. Do you have a dream project, whether it be a celebrity or brand that you'd love to work with one day?
JG: I've always said if I do Kacey Musgraves’ makeup, I can retire happily, and I will never have to make a brush ever again. So, if I can do Kacey Musgraves’ makeup, that would be my number one.
DO: I haven't told anybody this year, but when I was in Los Angeles, I got to work with Issa Rae, and I signed with her agency. Issa Rae started an agency specifically for Black women who are celebrities to have hair stylists who are comfortable working with their hair type. But throughout the whole collaboration, I couldn't believe I was in the room with them. To fully answer the question—I would love to do Beyoncé's hair. My daughter would think I'm the most amazing person in the world if I did Beyoncé’s hair.
AC: Finally, what lessons have you learned about Indianapolis’s creative sector and navigating it?
JG: We're all together, and there's no competition. The only competition that we have here is against ourselves, and there's a space for us all here. We all bring something different to the table.
DO: Yeah, there are a lot of talented people in the community. You have to be willing to collaborate and work together, because we all win when a shoot gets published or somebody gets signed. People are going to want to know who took that picture, who did the makeup, who the model was, and what agency they are a part of. ✂
Dani Oglesby IG @dolled_by_dani AgencyTexture Management
The Rock Artists
Jon Gregory IG @jongregorymakeup Agency
Aesthetic Artist Agency
The Rock Artists
BaeBar
IG @baebarindy
“Everyone has a story about the Indianapolis 500. Everywhere I go, not just in this city but all over the country, people come up to me and tell me their Indy 500 stories. I love it,” Joe Hale, President of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum, shares this sentiment fondly. Hale and his team at the museum welcome over 100,000 guests annually from all over the world.
“It’s not unusual to walk through the galleries and see multi-generational families looking at one car next to some visitors from another country studying a different one,” says Hale. “You may have one person recounting how they saw a particular car or driver win the race, while a child asks why the wheels are so big.”
But Hale and his team are determined to grow and enhance the museum to appeal to new and repeat visitors. The museum sat static in previous years and had one or two rotating exhibitions. However, Hale, who joined the Museum in January 2021, and Jason Vansickle, recently named Vice President of Curation and Education in January, are already making changes.
Under Vansickle’s lead, the exhibition and restoration teams have opened three unique exhibitions this year; three more are planned within the next twelve months.
“We aren’t just trying to do more,” says Vansickle. “We are intentionally trying to do exhibitions that are not just focused on a car or driver, but on the culture of racing and what it means to Indianapolis.”
Vansickle and his team have approached this challenge from a creative and resourceful angle. For “Traditions,” an exhibition that digs deeper into the celebrations and traditions around the Indy 500, the exhibition team combed through historic photos and video footage, piecing storytelling elements together. The exhibition incorporates everything from fashion to music and, of course, milk. As you walk through the space, you see guests pointing and recounting their own stories to one another.
“IN-Focus: The Stories of IMS Photo” is a photography exhibition spotlighting the work of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Photo Team. Bright, bold images contrasting against simple white walls transport you to these moments frozen in time. The show came from a brainstorming session by the exhibition development team.
“We work with IMS Photo every day on different projects. You’ll find their work throughout the entire museum. When we were thinking of creative ways to incorporate more storytelling exhibitions about the history and the iconic moments at the track, we were looking through photographs as a part of our research. Then we realized these images were so stunning and emotional; they were the story. Let’s have them be the showcase.”
The response to these exhibitions has been just what Hale was hoping for. “Sure, our numbers are up, but what pleases me is the stream of positive feedback we have from members and guests. And it makes me so excited for what else we have planned.”
“Roadsters 2 Records: The Twelve Years that Revolutionized the Indianapolis 500” opened this spring (the third exhibition if you are keeping track) and is a more traditional, car-focused show based on the evolution of racing between 1960-72. It incorporates highlights from pop culture and historical moments to help guests connect with the story at hand.
Next is an exhibition titled “Sleek: The Art of the Helmet.” Desiring to incorporate an artist’s perspective for this show, Vansickle reached out to Amiah Mims, a local artist and creative, to serve as guest curator and graphic designer for the exhibition. The exhibition features a combination of historic helmets, modern driver helmets, and new helmets commissioned by artists selected by a committee that included Mims. Artists are asked to design a helmet representing them, similar to how drivers put their personal touches on their helmets.
The museum has two more exhibitions to come. How many times have we all thought, “What if?” “Second” explores the drivers who came close to the victory podium but never entirely made it. In early 2023, the fashion of the Indy 500 will take center stage. Over 100 years old, the race has seen some notable fashion trends.
If Hale’s goal was to enhance the visitor experience and walk away with an understanding of the importance of the Indy 500 and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, his team has creatively stepped up to the challenge. From increasing exhibitions, showcasing the collection in a unique medium, and extending an invitation to visitors to our city, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum is a destination for all.
“There is such pride for what the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and the Indianapolis 500 have brought to our city. I want people to walk through our galleries, spend time in our exhibitions, and gain an understanding of that pride. And I want them to come back again and again.” ✂
BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE. PARADES ARE ABOUT STANDING UP AND BEING PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE, CELEBRATING IDENTITY, BELIEFS AND COMMUNITY. WHERE YOU CAME FROM AND WHERE YOU ARE AT.
OPENING PAGE
BROTHERS DANNY AND CARLOS, PUERTO RICAN DAY PARADE, FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY, 1995
ABOVE
IRISH STEP DANCERS, ST PATRICK’S DAY PARADE, NEW YORK CITY, 1995
LEFT
BRONX DRUMMER WITH ST BENEDICT’S FIFE AND DRUM CORPS, ST PATRICK’S DAY PARADE,NEW YORK CITY, 1995
VIETNAM VETERAN ON FLOAT, LABOR DAY PARADE, OMAHA, NEBRASKA, 2014
ABOVE CHEERLEADERS, INDY 500 PARADE, INDIANAPOLIS, 2019
LEFT
YANKEE FANS FROM WASHINGTON HEIGHTS, WORLD SERIES VICTORY PARADE THROUGH THE CANYON OF HEROES, NEW YORK CITY, 2009
GRANDMOTHER WITH FAN, PUERTO RICAN DAY PARADE, 47TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY, 1997
MEMBERS OF THE PUERTO RICAN SCHWINN CLUB, PUERTO RICAN DAY PARADE, 5TH AVE, NEW YORK CITY, 1995
Photographer Chris Newell has immersed himself in the arts. After playing the saxophone for over a decade, studying theater, and dreaming of becoming a painter, Newell ultimately fell in love with the camera. His creative process is ever-changing, yet consistently guided by his love of playing with shadow and light. Self-expression is central in his work—whether or not he’s actually in a photo—Newell sees himself in the darkness within his high–contrast editing style. He’s had seventy photos featured in Vogue Italia digital, and his Instagram is packed with street photography and portraiture. We wanted to know more about Newell’s photo-taking process, so we had him come into the PATTERN studio to answer a few questions!
KATIE FREEMAN: What does your creative process look like?
CHRISTOPHER: It’s always changing. I start off experimenting with ideas, with physical pieces like markers, paper, and drawing. Other times, I’ll take a photo of something that inspires me and make a digital vision board. Or I’ll print out a photo, change it up, take a photo of that and keep playing with it. Maybe draw on it. A lot of times, I will hold onto ideas for weeks, take a breather from them and then come back just to check if I see them the same way.
KF: I noticed a lot of your photography incorporates black and white. What attracts you to expressing your ideas that way?
CN: When you put something in black and white, it really separates something for what it is into the purest form. Color is like a drug. It’s addicting. When I put something in black and white, if I’m still attracted
to the image, then the idea itself has even more meaning [than] it did in color. Also, it simplifies things.
KF: What draws you to street photography?
CN: I’m drawn to the authenticity of it. Those moments can never be reincarnated into something else. It can be a learning experience too, like when I end up speaking with a complete stranger and something they say changes the scope of my day.
KF: I noticed that with your portraits, you tend to put your subjects right in the middle of the frame? Is there a reason for that?
CN: When I do that, it allows me to focus on everything that I want to capture about them. It gives me a chance to see something in that person I didn’t see before.
KF: Do you draw inspiration from any other photographers’ work?
CN: Probably, but to be honest, I draw more inspiration from musical artists. Between the different people that I value and favor the most— like Pharell Williams and people my grandma likes, like Teddy Pendergrass or Freddie Jackson—I get inspired by how much emotion they invoke.
KF: Your Instagram bio reads “Lost Photography - to the same place that’s ever changing…” What does that mean to you?
CN: “Lost Photography” expresses the idea that our reality changes over time. Even if you keep going back to the same places, nothing’s ever really the same. That applies to anything: places, people,
festivals, even a state of mind.
KF: Can you tell me a bit about the photos that are featured on Vogue Italia digital?
CN: Something I found interesting when I looked back on the collection I have with them is that those particular images say more about me than most of the ones I have on my VSCO or my Instagram.
KF: Do you have any upcoming projects you’re excited about?
CN: I just started a new job, so I’ve been caught up in that. The work environment is completely different from who I am, so I’m still adjusting. I do have a personal project with a local artist who I can’t name yet that I’m very excited about. It’s called ‘Yin.’ There’s a whole meaning behind it that we’re still trying to figure out. It is a mix of instrumental music, video, and poetry. It’ll probably involve some photography too, but won’t be super focused on it, just to mix things up for myself.
KF: What are you most proud of when it comes to your photography?
CN: I think I’m most proud of my work when people say my photos look like paintings. I never saw it that way, and that’s a comment that happens every once in a while. I think that’s cool because I’ve always secretly wanted to be a painter, but I just didn’t have the time or patience for it. ✂
IG @_chrisnewell_
Through sixteen Indiana counties, the White River’s entire watershed occupies 1.7 million acres of land. In Marion and Hamilton Counties alone, the White River traverses fifty-eight miles (106 miles of riverbank), offering 11,000 acres of parks and greenspace. We talk about Indiana as landlocked, but in recent years, community leaders have recognized an opportunity that exists if we just grow our appreciation and connection to this beautiful asset.
BY
Many are investing time, expertise, and money to make the White River and all the smaller tributaries more hospitable for its wildlife and human inhabitants.
After a century of dumping raw sewage from combined stormwater and sanitary sewer systems, clearing land for development and agriculture, building impervious surfaces, installing exotic trees and plants, and using chemical fertilizers and pesticides, there is a growing movement to transform our waterways into community places of beauty, tranquility, and recreation.
Most recently, news of even more exciting investments are being announced. Here are just a few developments recently completed or underway:
• $9 million investment to restore the crumbling historic Taggart Monument in Riverside Park for live performances from groups like Indy Shakes, the outdoor Shakespeare company
• $30 million golf and entertainment center to open this summer
• $100 million development for Elanco Animal Health Campus that includes expansion of the White River State Park
• $20 million READI grant for an effort called the White River Regional Opportunities Initiative to activate projects in three Indiana counties
In addition, billions in new investment dollars are helping secure Indiana’s drinking water systems, reducing raw sewage and other pollutants, and building opportunities for future generations to better appreciate our waterway assets.
Since 2017, the Nina Mason Pulliam Charitable Trust has provided seventeen non-profit organizations with nearly $11 million to increase access to, improve water quality in, advance advocacy for, and increase awareness about the White River watershed. Local companies and foundations like Cummins, Eli Lilly and Company, and Ball Brothers, are also lifting up waterway projects and efforts across Central Indiana and beyond.
• $21 million in trails funding from the federal American Recovery Act dollars for Marion County to enhance or complete trails along waterways like Pogue’s Run and Pleasant Run
• Natural restoration projects underway at major cultural institutions including 100 Acres at Newfields and Conner Prairie
• Repurposing a gravel pit into a public use space at Strawtown Koteewi Park
• Beautiful, cultural, and nature-filled riverfront promenades at Riverside and Broad Ripple parks
• Lilly Endowment funding to create a pop-up park with sunshades and picnic tables, a tech hub, and art gallery at the formerly segregated beach-front area that is now the community-led Belmont Beach Project near 16th Street in Indianapolis
One brand-new resource, DiscoverWhiteRiver.com just launched last month and offers information about the White River, from events happening in adjacent art and music venues, parks or along trails, as well as where to stop for a meal or drink and information on local festivals. The website allows you to take a quiz to help tailor your interests to experiences. What started as an exploration and visioning process in 2018 as part of the White River Vision Plan has evolved into an incredible resource for anyone looking for a day out all year long. Even before the plan, city and civic leaders across Indianapolis launched our collective impact initiative, Reconnecting to Our Waterways (ROW), to engage community members across Marion County to connect, engage, and improve the waterway nearby. These early efforts resulted in community-led improvements working with community partner organizations and opened up views, added resting spots, overlooks, art pieces, and restored natural habitats–efforts that continue to this day. An Exploration & Celebration Guide for locating these hidden gems is available in English and Spanish at: OurWaterways.org/get-involved/explore
No matter where you live in Indiana, you are either within or very near the White River watershed. And whether you are seeking a day hiking, biking, paddling in nature, enjoying a drink or meal overlooking a waterway, there are many opportunities to explore, engage with, and improve the waterways across the state. Plan now for your next adventure! ✂
THIS TIME HAS BEEN MARKED FOR BETTER CO-EXISTENCE WITH THE MANY SPECIES, INCLUDING THE HUMAN SPECIES, THAT RELY ON OUR RIVER FOR HEALTH, WELLBEING, AND QUALITY OF LIFE.
No matter where you live in Indiana, you are either within or very near the White River watershed.
Before dozens of murals colored its walls, fences, and facades, Wabash was just the neighborhood on the other side of the tracks. Active rail lines separated it from downtown Lafayette, Indiana, and left Wabash Avenue as the only way in and out of the neighborhood. Not that people were trying to go to Wabash. The neighborhood had, as they say, a certain reputation. A storied history. There were vacant buildings and rumors of gang activity and you only went there if you knew someone, and they knew you.
In the fourteen years since Tetia Lee arrived in Lafayette, the city has gotten a lot more vibrant. That’s largely due to Lee herself, who was the assistant director of a northwest Indiana arts organization before stepping into her current role as CEO of The Arts Federation. Based in Lafayette, The Arts Federation serves as the umbrella organization and arts council for fourteen counties in north central Indiana. Places like Benton County, where 92 percent of the population is white according to 2020 census data. Small, one-thousand-person towns where doors go unlocked and gossip runs deep. Rural communities whose population is declining. And neighborhoods with a median household income of $28,000—like Wabash.
“The Wabash neighborhood is right outside downtown, and there’s this incredible retaining wall there on Wabash Avenue,” Lee says. “I was driving around town, looking for blank canvases. When I saw that wall, I knew I wanted to paint it.”
Lee brought the idea to Margy Deverall, a project manager for Lafayette’s Department of Economic Development. Deverall confessed that she too had been thinking about putting a mural there. But the more they talked, the more they realized one mural just wasn’t enough. Not for them or the neighborhood. But a mural festival? Now, that sounded sexy.
Double time to August 2018, when eleven artists arrived in Lafayette for the first Wabash Walls Festival. The artists were from around the world, and some had never heard of Indiana. The ones who had associated the state with two things: race cars and racism.
True, Indiana isn’t diverse. The state remains 77 percent white. With those demographics, it’s easy for outsiders to assume corn isn’t the only thing on the straight and narrow in Indiana. But that’s the thing with stereotyping—it doesn’t encompass Hoosier Hospitality.
“Artists are really surprised by the amount of support from the community,” says Lee. “A lot of them come from big cities and don’t go up and talk to strangers, but these are small towns and small communities that take care of them. Overfeed them. Host them, set up meal trains, offer assistance.” Next-level hospitality, in other words, and a new experience for artists who are used to being dumped at a site and left to their own devices. Need water? Want food? Forgot a tool? You’re on your own. Good luck. Let us know when you’re finished.
Not Lee, though. And not the residents of Wabash or the small towns who welcome something new, something colorful. “The biggest compliment I can get is when artists tell me this is the most professional program they’ve been a part of,” says Lee.
Although the Wabash Walls Festival is only in its fifth year, the mural initiative itself has been in place since 2008. And the artists? They’ve been coming back to Indiana for years. Take Argentina native, Andrés Petroselli, for example. In 2018, Petroselli, known as Cobre, painted the face of a train conductor on south Second Street in Lafayette. (You’ll find it on the Lafayette Sanitation Department building, just before the road goes under the train tracks, past the rainbow-colored Wabash Walls! mural, and turns into Wabash Avenue.) In the summer of 2021, Cobre completed a mural honoring diversity and inclusion inside Purdue University’s Peirce Hall. He also has two murals in Rensselaer, Indiana, whose entire population could cruise together on a Royal Caribbean ship. Cobre is just one of the many artists of color who The Arts Federation has partnered with. They’ve also worked with Japanese-American artist JUURI, whose work is inspired by traditional Japanese art. (She often references Japanese folklore, history, and kabuki plays in her murals.) Nicole Sagar, a Miami-based artist of Latin descent, has painted two pieces on Wabash Avenue, one in small town Covington, Indiana, and one in even-smaller Wolcott, Indiana. El “Chiwi” Vickery, a non-binary artist based in Modesto, California, painted a catfish mural during the 2018 Wabash Walls Festival. And then there’s Mexican-American artist Ms. Yellow, also known as Nuria Ortiz, who painted a peacock mural as vivid as a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper.
“DEI IS INSTILLED IN THE FABRIC OF THE ARTS FEDERATION,” SAYS LEE. “I LOOK FOR TALENT, BUT IF WE HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO WORK WITH A VERY TALENTED ARTIST WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE AN ARTIST OF COLOR, ALL THE BETTER. WE ARE VERY INTENTIONAL ABOUT PROVIDING PLATFORMS LIKE THE WABASH WALLS FESTIVAL TO HIGHLIGHT UNDER-REPRESENTED ARTISTS.”
Inviting under-represented artists to under-served rural communities is another way The Arts Federation combats the belief that art is elitist. “People can be intimidated, but public art brings the art to the people,” says Lee. “And if we’re talking about equity, art should be accessible to everyone.”
That includes rural Indiana, whose residents may not be able to afford admission to a museum. Or have the means to travel to the city. But when Korean street artists like Royyal Dog—who paints African-American women in traditional Korean clothing—come in, Hoosier Hospitality comes out. Community members hang at the site and develop personal relationships with the artists. They take artists as their own and create an environment where creativity can flourish. As a result, artists have started to view Indiana as an arts-forward state, a place where two-story sunflower murals are the norm and art has turned towns into cultural destinations and people drive past two hours’ worth of cornfields to Fountain County, where they admire a wall of spray-painted peonies, then order a tenderloin with pickles from a diner across the street. A place where gravel lots become greenspaces, like in Fowler, Indiana, a town of two thousand and where just one piece of art, one mural, reinvigorates the community.
Like in Francesville, a blip of a town one hour north of Lafayette. In the spring of 2021, Brooklyn-based artist Jenna Morello painted a mural of different flowers in various stages of bloom. Lee describes the dedication ceremony as one of the most touching she’s ever attended. “Residents talked about the symbolism of the mural, that all the flowers in different stages of development represented the growth of their town, that they’re still alive. They’re focused on celebrating their assets and not focused on things they don’t have,” says Lee. Lee thinks The Arts Federation’s programs have influenced the number—and the quality—of art in Indiana and beyond. She says she’s fielded phone calls from various communities asking how they can implement their own mural festivals. Just like how art can—and should be—anywhere, so can community pride. In Wabash, the dozens of murals have kindled the economy. Before the first Wabash Walls Festival, the median home price in Wabash was $80,000. Now, homes are valued at $120,000 and up. Can the mural festival claim credit? Yeah, some of it. Because you don’t pass through Wabash anymore; you pause and admire. You get a coffee from Sacred Grounds and walk around, to the peacocks, to the catfish, to the chip factory where Jenna Morello painted the head of a cello and turned an eyesore into art. ✂
THE IDEA OF CRUISING DOWN WABASH AVENUE TO SEE THE ART WAS LAUGHABLE. THERE WASN’T MUCH TO SEE, UNLESS YOU COUNTED THE EYESORE THAT RESIDENTS CALLED “THE CHIP FACTORY.” BUT THAT WAS BEFORE.
KEARNEY
LYLES STATION: LOOKING AHEAD TO THE NEXT 200 YEARS
“It all started with a forty-five pound pig,” says Stanley Madison grinning and holding his hand up in the air as if he was presenting his prized pig to my mother and me. Our eyes are wide and mouths agape as we sit in an auditorium in the lower level of the Lyles Station Historic School and Museum in Lyles Station, Indiana. Madison is recalling the story of how he began his journey as a farmer. When he was a young boy, his grandfather gave him a small feeder pig as a way to earn money. “I raised pigs until I was twenty-six years old, starting with that small feeder pig who had more piglets that I raised to full grown to sell at the market.”
TABITHA BARBOURBY
WORDS
Stanley Madison, born and raised in Lyles Station, founded the Lyles Station Historic Preservation Corporation (LSHPC) in 1997. He is the chairman and museum curator at the Lyles Station Historic School and Museum (LSHSM).
MADISON IS PASSIONATE ABOUT INCREASING THE NUMBER OF AFRICAN AMERICAN FARMERS IN THE UNITED STATES. ACCORDING TO AN ARTICLE ON INPUT FORT WAYNE, “SINCE 1920, THE NUMBER OF BLACK FARMERS HAS DECREASED DRASTICALLY FROM ABOUT ONE MILLION TO JUST UNDER 45,000 IN 2021.”
It is a small farming community and is the last remaining and oldest African American settlement in Indiana. It was first settled by Thomas Grier, a freed slave who purchased farm land in Gibson County over 200 years ago. Lyles Station is named after Joshua Lyles, a prominent leader in the settlement community, who “… donated six acres of land, valued at $50 on September 16, 1870, to the Old Airline Railroad, now called the Southern Railroad, on the condition that the company would maintain station in Lyles Station.”
On February 4, Lyles Station celebrated the 100th anniversary of Lyles Station Consolidated School. It was founded in 1922, and Madison remembers when he was a student at Lyles Station Consolidated Schools in the late fifties. When I ask Madison what he’s most proud of when he thinks of Lyles Station he says, “I think the most proud is to know that you are following the legacy from your forefathers and you are continuing that legacy.”
The LSHPC hosted a weekend of events including a documentary screening. The events had around seventy community supporters in attendance. The Lyles Station Consolidated School site is now the LSHSM with a replica heritage classroom, two exhibition rooms with Lyles Station history, and an auditorium.
Speaking of his hopes for Lyles Station over the next hundred years, Madison says, “I am looking at two hundred years down the road because one hundred years is very short and two hundred years is what we need to make Lyles Station a higher education development for the future.”
At the end of the museum tour, Madison shows us a map of the LSHPC site’s future plans, where the board hopes to expand the programmatic offerings and impact. This includes a dining hall and cafeteria, log cabins for overnight field trips, school bus parking, expansion of youth programming, and an agriculture teaching facility for young adults who are interested in learning about farming, business, and research.
Madison laughs, “People think that anyone can become an ol’ dirt farmer.” He continues sternly, “…But the farmer of yesterday is not the farmer of today.” Madison points out that being a farmer today requires you to be a marketer, a manager, a sales person, and to have a good understanding of technology. “I want to build a program that allows young people to have a six-month immersion experience in agriculture to discover if they can see themselves as a farmer or researcher.”
When I ask Madison how people can support Lyles Station, he states, “You can donate to our project via PayPal!” Madison would love to work with Marion County and surrounding area schools to bring students to Lyles Station for farming and Indiana history activities. The LSHPC hosts a variety of activities throughout the year at Lyles Station, including Night at the Museum and Juneteenth Celebration. ✂
LYLES STATION IS ONE OF SEVENTEEN HISTORIC AFRICAN AMERICAN SETTLEMENTS IN INDIANA, WHERE FREE BLACKS MOVED FROM THE SOUTH AND PURCHASED LAND TO START A NEW LIFE AFTER ENSLAVEMENT.
is what we need to make Lyles Station a higher education development for the future.
Located at the southwest tip of Indiana near Evansville on land originally occupied by the Mississippian culture, New Harmony is approximately 2.5 hours drive from Indianapolis, and just over two hours from St. Louis and Louisville. Twice the site of utopian experiments in communitarian living, New Harmony is a town rich in beauty, culture, and history. And it makes the perfect location for people to enjoy moments of respite and reconnect with others through conversations about roles of art, design, and place in society. This spring, Big Car Collaborative brought together more than twenty notable authors, artists, designers, researchers, and philosophers from Indiana and around the world—to look at the role of utopian thinking yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
It’s winter, late-pandemic. I’m in my home office perusing images of handwoven textiles by an artist named Docey Lewis. In her seventies, Lewis stepped away from her successful global textile business to restart the art practice from which she walked away in her twenties.
Glancing away from Lewis’s delightful abstractions to the headlines on my muted TV, I see that a million Americans are now dead from COVID-19; six million dead worldwide; Russian troops are fighting Ukrainian citizens in the streets; and somehow 45 is back on the news, calling some petty dictator a genius. Optimism is in short supply. Yet, turning back to Lewis’s rugged, elegant, geometric compositions, I see something in their patterns and interconnected layers that suggests a beautiful, Bauhausian dream—a better world run on systems designed by artists, not authoritarians.
I’m one of those people—the ones who think abstract art is inherently political, because it opens doors of perception that increase conceptual literacy, or something like that.
Wondering if she is of the same ilk, I give Lewis a call. She is, after all, uniquely qualified to speak about the intersection of politics and abstract art—not only because she’s an abstract artist, but because she’s
descended from the founders of one of America’s earliest Utopian societies: New Harmony, Indiana. ORIGINALLY CALLED NEU HARMONIE, THE CITY WAS ESTABLISHED IN 1814 BY JOHANN GEORG RAPP, LEADER OF AN END-TIMES CULT FROM PENNSYLVANIA. RAPP’S FOLLOWERS BUILT 180 STRUCTURES AND ESTABLISHED A THRIVING ECONOMY. BUT BY 1825, THE SECOND COMING HAVING FAILED TO COME, THEY MOVED ON, SELLING THE TOWN TO A WEALTHY INDUSTRIALIST ROBERT OWEN, LEWIS’S GREAT-GREATGREAT-GRANDFATHER.
Owen attempted to establish a second Utopia in New Harmony, based on the principles of universal education and equality. His sons joined him. One, Richard Owen, was the first President of Purdue University. Another, Robert Dale Owen, was elected to Congress, and introduced the bill establishing the Smithsonian Institution.
Despite their means and influence, the Owen family, like the Rapps before them, saw their Utopia fail. In Robert Dale Owen’s autobiography, he postulated that Americans don't naturally want to work together— particularly those who came to the United States after leaving structures where they were trapped. Like her abstract textiles, Lewis has a tangled relationship to both perspectives—the one that thinks structures can and should be constructed that will foster harmonious relationships, and the one that prioritizes independence.
“For me, Utopia is kind of a squishy word,” Lewis says.
The original Greek ou topos literally means no place. There’s a metaphor there I guess.
“The work I do is about creating structures on which pictures might exist,” she explains.
Doesn’t that relate to everyday life, I ask?
“Every day is a new opportunity to help make other people's lives better,” Lewis says. “So what structures do you put in place to make that happen?”
Lewis returned to her ancestor’s field of Utopian dreams a few years ago. In an art studio above a bakery in downtown New Harmony, haunted by the ghosts of her successes and her losses, she is trying to make peace with her past while literally pulling at the threads of her personal history.
Lewis’s roots in the woven world reach back to age nine, making potholders in the attic of her family home in Northford, Connecticut. Her first real textile training came while in college at Stanford.
“The university had a Jane Goodall Center, and I’d applied to go to the Gombe Stream Reserve over the summer,” Lewis says. “I was in the middle of that application and I met a man. You know, there's always a man hidden away in the story when you’re young. I was very conflicted about whether to go to Africa or stay and have this romance. I chose the romance.”
That summer, Lewis enrolled in a weaving class and learned the basics of working with raw fiber.
“I was hooked,” she says with a laugh.
Next thing she knew, she was on a train crossing Canada solo for the Albion Hills School of Weaving, Spinning and Dying. She spent three months there living on a sheep farm and learning the grass roots of the textile process. Edna Blackburn, who ran the school, brought children with emotional or behavioral disorders to the school and had her students show them the basics of the craft.
“They found it was a very calming activity,” Lewis says. “I was exposed to this other aspect of the effect of weaving on a human being’s mental health. I saw that it could be a broader thing than just me playing with a loom and making something with it.”
Lewis then headed south in a VW van to the Ganado, Arizona, Navajo reservation where she learned a different kind of spinning and weaving and experienced the Navajo dye process. Meanwhile, back in California, the man for whom she had given up her dreams of Africa was busy building her a studio in a geodesic dome on a forty-acre property in the redwood forest.
“It had been a bootlegger's weekend extravaganza,” Lewis says, “kind of falling apart, but cool.”
In that redwoods retreat she built the loom on which she made her first textile artworks. At her debut exhibition, in a library in Redwood City, a collector invited Lewis to do a large private commission for his home.
“He was a mucky-muck in the corporate world in San Francisco,” Lewis says. “So that led to other opportunities. I ended up with an agent, Bridget O’Hara, who was a character. She’d been a chef on a submarine. She was Irish, her son was gay. I met my first transvestite. I was so naive. I broke out of my New England cocoon. It was the early 70s in San Francisco and I was exposed to a very colorful world.”
Looking back to her experience at Albion Hills, Lewis was always looking for ways to make a concrete difference in people’s lives with her work. Wondering if business had a better chance of making a social impact that art, she decided to start her own line of clothing, made from her own fabric.
She enrolled in the San Francisco Fashion Institute, learning to cut and sew handmade fabric by day, and attended night school to learn accounting—“just enough to understand a balance sheet,” she says.
Lewis’s first patroness in fashion was Doris Khashoggi. Yes, that Khashoggi.
“She had married the brother of Adnan Khashoggi, the arms dealer,” Lewis says.
After her divorce, with her fortune Khashoggi set up retail stores in Palo Alto and San Francisco. Lewis was one of several independent clothing designers she took under her wing.
The success of Lewis’s clothing line inspired her to expand by making fabric to sell to other designers. To do that she needed more weavers, so she put together a business plan and took it around to embassies from countries where there were weavers who needed work. Her timing with the Philippine embassy was perfect. “They were doing a trade mission and they invited me on it,” Lewis says. “March Fong Eu, the Secretary of State of California, headed the tour. Texas Instruments was there looking for overseas production, and little old me with my hand weaving workshop.”
Her second day in Manila, Lewis had breakfast with President Marcos. Soon, she had investors helping her establish a workshop in Baguio.
“Imelda Marcos was one of my best customers,” Lewis says. “She commissioned me to do all the fabrics for the interiors of the summer palace. Kept me busy for years.”
Gradually, Lewis expanded her operations into other countries, including Bangladesh, Indonesia, and Nepal. The list of companies that have sold the products made in her workshops includes Sears, Hallmark, Bergdorf’s, Lord and Taylor, Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s, Henri Bendel, Gumps, Horchow, Neiman Marcus, and Sundance Catalog.
The real payoff for Lewis, however, was mentoring the local female weavers she worked with to become entrepreneurs. She also recalls many difficult decisions along the way, and many tragedies, losing friends and colleagues to earthquakes, volcanoes, and floods.
Regaled by the tale of her journey from a tiny redwood forest studio to the top of a global design empire, I can’t help but ask Lewis why she walked away—and why she chose the soil of her ancestor’s disappointments as the place to revisit her own sidelined dreams.
Her answer:
“Do you know David Brooks, the New York Times columnist? Well, two or three years ago, he started something called the Weave Project. The idea was that our social fabric has come unraveled. Brooks got these dinners going where you would invite your town council member over to dinner and talk about things you have in common, and have a civil conversation and not name call and de-base the other side. So I thought, this is a chance to take that metaphor, reweaving the social fabric, and make it real.”
In addition to trying to heal herself through her art, Lewis is involved in an initiative to bring disadvantaged kids from all around to learn weaving in New Harmony. They’ll take classes and see what it’s like to camp and hike and live in a rural village.
“I’ve got selvedge waste of silk wallpaper from a workshop in Nepal, and stacks of samples and lines of products and yada yada, all gathering dust,” Lewis says. “It’s like an archaeological dig of everything I've ever woven or designed. I thought maybe I could turn it into something—take this detritus, take the stories, take everything, and weave it together and see if I can bring some measure of peace to my own life.”
Originally called Neu Harmonie, the city was established in 1814 by Johann Georg Rapp.
WORDS BY IRIS WILLIAMSON PHOTOGRAPH BY CLINT KEARNEY
People often speak of New Harmony as a “utopia” with its public art and labyrinths, its mix of early-nineteenth-century and mid-twentieth-century architecture, its quaint art scene, and its Mayberry-esque sensibility. If you’ve been here, you know what they’re talking about. It’s hard to not wonder what’s behind this idealistic veneer, which is what drew me from Portland, Oregon to New Harmony Gallery of Contemporary Art (NHGCA).
FOUNDED NEARLY FIFTY YEARS AGO, NHGCA’S ARTIST-RUN VIBE PERSISTS THOUGH IT WORKS WITH REGIONAL, NATIONAL, AND INTERNATIONAL TALENT. THE GALLERY RECEIVES INSTITUTIONAL SUPPORT AS PART OF THE UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN INDIANA, AND WE PRIORITIZE THREE AUDIENCES: THE LOCAL COMMUNITY IN NEW HARMONY; UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN INDIANA STUDENTS, FACULTY, ALUMNI, AND STAFF; AND VISITING TOURISTS.
Despite this support and the widespread exposure, the gallery itself lives out on its own—it is an in-between space shrouded in the myth and magic of two failed utopian experiments. For good or for bad, I tend to find myself professionally in the in-between. Whether it’s from my natural curiosity or from something I learned from escaping a religious cult, I believe there’s a freedom found in the process of letting go. So this in-betweenness appeals to me.
Since joining NHGCA, we’ve made an effort to work with artists that have stories to tell that are different from what has been seen in the area in the past. Allowing the community to explore the idea that what is utopia for one person can easily be a dystopia for another. At NHGCA we ask our visitors to consider questions such as: What are the stories we tell ourselves? What is this space we occupy? What is sacred here, and to whom? Who belongs here? What happens when we hang on too tight, and what happens when we let go? Listening and questioning can help us see more of ourselves, and we can choose to embrace that process. It’s stronger some days than others, but I sense that I’m living through these questions here in New Harmony myself. ✂
What are the stories we tell ourselves? What is this space we occupy? What is sacred here, and to whom? Who belongs here? What happens when we hang on too tight, and what happens when we let go?
If we’re talking politics, Indiana’s more purple than most folks think. There’s more than blue in Indianapolis, and there’s a whole lot more than red across the state. In every corner and pocket available, Hoosiers are building exceptional communities and creative practices. From the enclave of potters living in Goshen to the unexpectedly large Pride Festival in Spencer, there’s a lot of cool shit going on off the well worn paths of Indiana than many of us might imagine. And Hoosiers are the ones making it happen.
WORDS BY JENNY WALTON
Michigan native Sadie Misiuk took over another potter’s studio in Goshen, Indiana, in order to establish herself in the ceramics industry. Recognizing Goshen for its supportive arts community and affordable living, Misiuk, an On-Ramp grant winner, saw the city as the perfect place to grow as an artist. “If you live in Goshen and work hard, you can make it as a potter.” Misiuk says. “I’m proud of my On-Ramp award and winning it helped solidify my feeling of being a Hoosier.’
The Goshen arts community continues to grow with a strong emphasis on local, handmade items and its location serves as an influence for creativity. Potters draw inspiration for their work from the scenery and settings around them. “One artist draws inspiration from the woods he lives in,” Misiuk says.
A thirty-year Marion, Indiana resident, Wendy Puffer of Marion Design Co. saw a different side of the city when she moved downtown. “Marion has struggled with poor self-esteem,” Puffer says. “Parts of the city’s history have tamped it down.”
A mecca for pottery, the last weekend of September marks the annual Michiana Pottery Tour. Ceramic enthusiasts flock to the area to stop at the six-to-eight studios on tour, which creates a boom for the town’s shops and restaurants. “It’s really awesome to see different mediums and artists come into the area,” Misiuk says, “The tour continues to get stronger and stronger each year.” ✂
The concept of a community-based design studio served as Puffer’s MFA thesis. With the support of seventeen Indiana Wesleyan college students, Marion Design Co. was born in 2016 inside an abandoned bank. “We had everything we needed for this type of initiative,” Puffer says “But we just needed to develop the confidence.” Now independent of the college and its own LLC, the studio continues to help revitalize Marion and produces innovative work in areas such as graphic and interior design and placemaking. Maintaining a solid community focus, Marion Design Co. hosts events such as the 2018 Merry Maids Fashion Show. Partnering with local quilters, the studio created a workshop to teach area high school students sewing and design. Using Goodwill clothing, participants went on to compete for one of twenty spots in a fashion show that was held in a blighted downtown alley. “The students took items that were very scrappy and transformed them into something that was very high-end,” Puffer says. “Residents who had never before been to downtown Marion attended this event, which became standing room only.” ✂
“IN THEIR MINDS, THEY SEE THE LANDSCAPES, PRAIRIES, BIRDS, AND ANIMALS IN THE SURROUNDINGS, WHICH WILL PLAY INTO THEIR WORK.”
WORDS BY CORY CATHCART PHOTOGRAPHY BY CLINT KEARNEY THE PRIDE FESTIVAL
Travel southwest from Indianapolis down to Spencer, where the largest rural Pride festival in Indiana takes place every October. The festival is held on Spencer’s town square. In the center is the historic Owen County Courthouse, surrounded by local restaurants, stores, and well-kept nineteenth-century buildings filled with friendly Hoosiers. Jonathan Balash, who is a board member of the Pride festival, is an unflinching leader focused on making the citizens in his town feel accepted, loved, and celebrated.
Spencer Pride’s biggest event is the festival, but LGBTQ+ resources and community can be accessed year-round at the Spencer Pride commUnity center directly on the town square. The commUnity center is an old brick building; and the front windows are welcoming with flags, plants, and crafts.
The center serves as headquarters for the Spencer Pride team. It is open to the public as a retail store, a community center, and a soon-to-be event space. The store carries local merchandise such as honey and Hoosier-made arts and crafts. The leaders and volunteers of Spencer Pride have been working since 2007 to make their resources more accessible and widespread. Over one hundred volunteers and twelve members on the Board of Directors work throughout the year to build community in Spencer and promote allyship through the festival and commUnity center.
Jonathan says he focuses on the fact that all Pride festivals are different. Spencer Pride is family friendly, so they centralize their teachings around the basics of LGBTQ+ support and allyship.
“I don’t want anyone getting the impression that we’re in some kind of liberal bubble, or getting the after effect of a liberal bubble nearby; we’re really in the middle of very red, very conservative America. We deal with all the challenges that come with that, so it’s a lot about education and a focus in particular on allyship,” Balash says.
When the Spencer Pride festival was in its early years, someone tried to sabotage the event by dropping roofing nails in the streets surrounding the town square before the festival started. Balash heard about the incident, and immediately got to work letting vendors and volunteers know what was going on. Balash points out that a deputy sheriff heard about what happened and was upset that someone would do that in his town. He started helping pick up nails and eventually a street sweeper showed up to clean the streets. Through this challenge, Spencer Pride found allies they might have never made.
“The youth that we have today will still be dealing with prejudice and bigotry and this hate aimed towards them if we don’t work to create a better world for them,” Balash says. ✂
Established in 1947, Clarksville Little Theatre (CLT) started with a musical performance at a local school that netted $300. Armed with the dream of having a community theatre, funds were raised through the community and land was purchased from the town of Clarksville. “The Theatre has always been built on community and this is what we try to continue today,” says Cindy Smith, CLT’s board president “People want live Theatre and we’re here to serve the community.”
Being the only community theatre in Clarksville, auditions are open to anybody who has an interest in Theatre.
WORDS BY TERRI PROCOPIO PHOTOGRAPH BY COURTNEY SCHMOLL AN ARTIST’S PLACEThe 2022 performance lineup includes Footloose, A Christmas Carol, and Something Rotten, which will be the first time the show is performed regionally outside of Broadway.
Next year marks CLT’s seventy-fifth anniversary, a major accomplishment for a 100 percent nonprofit, volunteer organization. Dedicated volunteers continue to give their time and CLT relies on donations and support from Clarksville’s Town Council. What makes CLT unique is the fact they own their own building.
“The entire rehearsal process takes place in the space where you will actually perform,” Smith says. “You’re blocked, staged, and rehearsed in the same place. It sounds like a little thing, but most companies rehearse someplace else and then move everything to a performance Theatre for tech week, but not CLT.” ✂
An immersive artist-in-residence program, PlySpace was created in 2018 as part of an Our Town grant through the National Endowment for the Arts in collaboration with the City of Muncie and Ball State University. Prospective applicants submit both a personal and public art project, and those selected are granted studio space along with connections to local manufacturing companies for equipment needs. The program has attracted applicants both nationally and internationally, including artists from countries such as Germany, Argentina, and Austria. “Muncie is a small place outside of people’s maps,” says Erin Williams, Residency Coordinator at PlySpace. “It’s a really great exchange of artists, who may not be familiar with Muncie, coming from all over the world to be a part of this. “
In 2021, PlySpace collaborated with dancer and choreographer Indya Childs, founder of Peace, Love, and Dance, for a virtual panel discussion on social practices. The focus of this discussion was to explore how to creatively use differences between demographics, race, attitudes, and political beliefs. “How we’re different can be a catalyst for art,” William says. “The content from this panel was then choreographed into a dance piece for a twentyminute film and later a final dance performance by Ball State students.”
Now in its fourth year, PlySpace has produced over seventy community projects and continues to emphasize the importance of making emerging art more accessible. “We want to be able to give more people the chance to engage with forward-thinking, contemporary art,” William says. ✂
“WE TRY TO MAKE OUR SHOWS AS BROAD-BASED AS POSSIBLE SO DIFFERENT TYPES OF PEOPLE CAN BE INCLUDED,” SMITH SAYS.
“ANYONE WHO WANTS TO BE A PART OF CLARKSVILLE LITTLE THEATRE CAN BE A PART OF CLARKSVILLE LITTLE THEATRE.”
Another Hoosier enthusiastic about accessibility and education is Toni Ridgway. She is an artist and Assistant Librarian in the Reference and Local History Department at the Crawfordsville District Public Library. In her art, she will use any medium necessary to tell her story. Ridgway attended Herron School of Art and Design and trained as a book artist and printmaker, but she considers herself a visual storyteller. Ridgway makes paper and book arts using natural materials. Some of the paper feels fragile, like skin peeling off a sunburn. Other papers she has made are thicker and heavier with different textures, like shapes and words, worked into the fibers. She has documented tombstone reliefs of lettering onto book pages that tell the story of her family history. Ridgway uses these creations in different ways to portray her life and where she has been. The story of her family and her connection to rural Indiana are themes in her work. Ridgway says she relies heavily on memory in making art.
“The storytelling aspect came from the fact that my family always told stories around the dinner table, on the porch swing, snapping beans, or any other tasks that encouraged us to gather,” Ridgway says. Ridgway uses her learning and voice to bring accessibility to art. She understands the importance of art in every community, and challenges the idea that art is “elite” or only for certain groups of people. She wants people who don’t feel comfortable walking into an art gallery to know that it can still be accessible wherever those people do feel at home. Ridgway teaches accessibility through teaching art basics, like how to safely use scissors and how to mix color, to preschoolers. She is also a lecturer and talks with adult artists about mature concepts, such as how to get art into a permanent collection at a museum.
“The arts, whether that be visual, performance, musical, whatever the arts are to you. A lot of communities have forgotten that [art] is what makes a well-rounded, happy, healthy person,” Ridgway says. ✂
WORDS BY CORY CATHCART PHOTOGRAPH BY RACHEL CIRULLO MIAMI INDIAN CULTURE
Katrina Mitten is an embroidery-style bead artist living in Huntington, Indiana, and celebrates being a member of the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma. In the nineteenth century, the Miami Tribe was pushed out of Indiana, Ohio, and Great Lakes area into Oklahoma. While there have been no full-blood Miami people in many years, storytelling through education and art keeps their culture alive. As a young girl, Mitten was interested in her culture and decided to learn more through art. In the 1970s, Mitten started working with beads by making a bead loom and teaching herself how to use it.
Today, Mitten’s work can be found in two different Smithsonian Museums, the Eiteljorg Museum, and the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma’s Council Building; and she has shown her work at countless art shows and markets around the country. Her decorative beadwork includes accessories like earrings, purses, and bolo ties. Mitten has also worked with bigger items like cradle boards, vests, and vintage briefcases. One of her next ventures is working on a traditional Miami ensemble from the 1830s. She describes her beading style as contemporary, but she uses traditional images and themes in the beadwork. About ten years ago, Mitten told the creation story of the Miami people on a vest with beadwork. She worked the scene of the “emergent etory” onto the vest. “We come from the water, and we say that the Creator told us to take hold of tree branches and to pull ourselves out on top, onto the land,” Mitten says.
Mitten’s life as an artist is complemented by her passion for teaching. She has taught people of all ages about Miami culture. From showing kindergarteners traditional Miami clothing, to giving corporate lectures, to sharing her artform with her grandchildren, Mitten is dedicated to sharing her culture’s story. Mitten says she feels hopeful for the future when she is teaching her grandchildren and they are excited about their culture. She has eight grandchildren, two of which she has taught beadwork to. Katrina says of her nine-year-old granddaughter, “She’s been very excited about learning our beadwork, traditions, and the meanings behind it.” Mitten’s enthusiasm for teaching people about a misunderstood culture is a vivid example of keeping a culture alive through story and art, then passing it down through her lineage.
“The hope for me is that all my grandchildren will pass this knowledge on; and feel the pride of the family, the family connection. And that this gives them a sense of self,” Mitten says. ✂
The official Seal of the State of Indiana, adopted in 1816, depicts the clearing of “wilderness” to make way for “civilization.” These days, pollution, deforestation, industrial agriculture, and fossil fuel dependency strain our symbiotic relationship to what’s wild—while nature itself teases the solutions we need. A living tree, after all, is still the best technology for absorbing carbon. And the sun and the wind are just waiting to power your world. * The more vulnerable our forests, land, air, and water, the harder some Hoosiers are striving for a new equation. Behold: a menagerie of heroes using design, education, justice, spirituality, and beauty to help restore the connection of people to place.
At 73, Garry has spent a lifetime helping people fall in love with
Herbalist, woodswoman, forager, chef, and mom, Courtney runs an online apothecary called Venus in Vina and is a plant-power prophet extraordinaire.
SOIL IS THE FOUNDATION OF ALL THINGS LIVING. IN A HEALTHY SYSTEM, IT’S NOURISHED BY TREES, INSECTS AND MICROORGANISMS. IT HOLDS AND FILTERS WATER, AND KEEPS TEMPERATURES LOW. WE NEED A FUNDAMENTAL SHIFT IN HOW WE SEE AND INTERACT WITH WHAT’S REAL…AND WILD.
Andy and his partner Kara Schmidt are turning the site of a former tomato cannery (sometimes visited by vultures) into an arts gathering space.
WE’RE COMMITTED TO WORKING WITH HISTORICAL PROPERTIES. THERE ARE 17 ACRES AND THE CANNERY PROPERTY IS INDUSTRIAL WASTELAND.
The Monon railroad ran right by here. There’s also a quarry from which limestone was cut to build the railroad and bridges, and tons of invasive plants. But there’s not really industry here any more. So we think about what it means to be in relationship to these wounded places.
JAMES MOSLEY ENVIROKINETICS, INC. | EVANSVILLE
In one of the most polluted spots in the nation –southwestern Indiana – James Mosley is a pioneer in the movement for environmental justice.
SUSTAINABILITY ISN’T SUSTAINABLE IF IT DOESN’T INCLUDE ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE. WE MUST ENSURE THAT LOW INCOME AND PEOPLE OF COLOR AREN’T DISPROPORTIONATELY IMPACTED BY POLLUTION.
A project I'm proud of was a green infrastructure program for Evansville. When flood waters rise, they combine with sewage and pollute waterways. I worked with University of Evansville engineering students and a Black church [Memorial Baptist] in the urban core to capture the rainfall. Together we addressed aesthetics, job creation, and environmental improvement: a triple bottom line.
“Fall in love with the river and its music will pull you back from wherever your life may lead you.”
GARRY HILL
WILDCATGUARDIANS | GREENTOWN canoeing, kayaking, and Indiana rivers. We need new people to fall in love with it. I work to clean and protect Wildcat Creek and helped originate the Wildcat Guardians, working to preserve the creek’s natural and recreational qualities.
Ian is a farmer, a.k.a. landscape steward, at Groundwork Indy, a non-profit that rallies citizens and youth around regenerating neighborhoods and nature.
I WORK IN NICHE-MAKING AND EROSION CONTROL, RESTORING THE MEANDERING CONDITIONS NATURALLY GENERATED OVER TIME. A TREE FALLS AND BREAKS DOWN SLOWLY AND MYCELIUM EXPANDS AND RELEASES MORE BIOAVAILABLE NUTRIENTS THAN I COULD HOPE TO ADD, SO I LAY TREE BRANCHES AND TRUNKS INTO THE GROUND AS GARDEN BORDERS. THESE CONDITIONS FAVOR LOCAL SPECIES BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THEY EVOLVED.
Art therapist, Natural Dreamwork practitioner, and poet, Liza draws on ancient spiritual traditions to process a very modern problem.
I RECENTLY FORMED A VIRTUAL COMMUNITY OF “EARTH MONKS”— INDIANA SEEKERS WHO RECOGNIZE THAT HEALING OUR RELATIONSHIP TO THE LIVING WORLD IS THE PRIMARY SPIRITUAL NEED OF OUR AGE. WE ENGAGE IN CONTEMPLATIVE PRACTICES TO STRENGTHEN OUR PARTICIPATION IN THE COLLECTIVE STRUGGLE THAT LIES AHEAD.
We need wise elders who are working to remember, reclaim and create anew such soulful culture. My hope is that our small community of Earth Monks give rise to new sapling communities emerge, with a growing root system engaged in life-restoring communication, like trees.
the power to produce our own food.
I’VE SEEN HOW TRANSFORMATIVE A GARDEN CAN BE, AS A GROWER WITH KHEPRW INSTITUTE'S GROWIN’ GOOD IN THE HOOD PROGRAM. WITNESSING WHAT WAS ONCE AN ABANDONED LOT BECOME A LITERAL LIFE SOURCE IS ONE OF THE MOST INSPIRING THINGS.
That is what I hope to bring to schools and students in my work. Show them they have the power to not just change the land they occupy but also become self-reliant while doing it.
Indiana Black Expo in the 1980s was the kind of function where you planned an outfit for months in advance. Held in the middle of Indianapolis, the Expo was an affirmation, an overdue education, and a celebration of Blackness for us midwestern Blacks who often found ourselves isolated from other Black people because of geography, demographics, or gas money.
The Expo was also a place to get loose with community. The same year I met Muhammad Ali at the Expo, Spike Lee was selling Free South Africa tee-shirts in a convention booth for $10 a pop and DeBarge was the headlining musical act. Which gave my friend Ché the magnificent idea that we would have a better chance of talking to the girls in attendance if we pretended to be distant DeBarge cousins. Anything was possible at the Expo after all.
Nobody asked why we were wearing knock-off Sergio Tacchini track suits or why we were wandering the convention floor instead of being backstage in the green room with our relatives. It almost worked, too, until one savvy young lady asked us to speak Spanish, and all I could remember from Spanish class was ¿Dónde está el baño?
Everything is possible at the Expo, including a failed DeBarge impersonator getting to meet The Greatest and for just for a moment, be near true Black brilliance.
WORDS BY ADRIAN MATEJKA ILLUSTRATION BY CARRIE KELBTHAT DAY AT THE INDIANA BLACK EXPO, INSIDE A VORTEX OF KENTE CLOTH, AFRICA MEDALLIONS, & REACHING HANDS, ALI WAS THE STANDING— EIGHT COUNT ANY FIGHTER ENDS UP AS AFTER TAKING TOO MANY STRAIGHT RIGHTS. SO MANY DUCKS & FEINTS OVER THE YEARS THAT DODGING FEELS LIKE A JOB. BECAUSE IT IS A JOB: THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD’S JOB. ALI SAID HE TOOK 29,000 PUNCHES & HOPSCOTCHED THE REST— HOOKS, UPPERCUTS, & JABS EACH AS MONUMENTAL AS THE NEWS HE’D JOINED THE NATION OF ISLAM IN 1964. BUT THE REAL NUMBER IS 200,000: ONE AFTER ANOTHER TO THE FACE LIKE A WRONGWAYS WIND. LEFT THEN RIGHT TO THE RIBS, AN ABSENCE OF CONTRITION. HOOKS & CLINCHES AS BRISTLY AS BEING IN A SMALL KITCHEN WITH A SPITEFUL DEVIL. IT TOOK SO MUCH PRIDE UNDER THE MIDDAY RING LIGHTS TO KEEP HIS HEAD UP DURING THOSE FIGHTS. IT TOOK SO MUCH DIGNITY TO KEEP HIS HEAD RIGHT BEFORE THE LINES OF SNAPPING POLICE & THEIR HUNGRY DOGS. ALI WAS ONLY 45 WHEN I MET HIM THAT DAY, VERBAL ROPADOPE ALREADY A WORD BOUQUET. THIS MAN HAD A THESAURUS IN HIS BRAIN & A NO-SHOW TONGUE & WE ALL LISTENED ANYWAY: BOMAYE, BOMAYE.
Self-professed Afrofuturist Maurice Broaddus has been changing the literary landscape with his passion for words and love for storytelling for decades. He artfully connects the past and present to create a means for creating stories foretelling our future. His work alongside the Kheprw Institute, particularly the establishing of Café Creative, serves as an economic awakening for artists throughout the community. His relationships with the arts community have opened the door to the successful implementation of a writing convention empowering the next generation of storytellers to use their life experiences to change the course of history.
DENISE HERD: You are originally from London. What brought you to Indiana? You grew up in Franklin, right?
MAURICE BROADDUS: My dad grew up in Franklin, but went into the Air Force and traveled all over. He spent some time in Greenland, and while there, he and my mom became pen pals. Meantime, my mom was in nursing school in London. They fell in love, he moved to London, and when she graduated, we ended up moving to Indiana. So yes, from London to Franklin—no culture shock at all. After moving here, one of the first things my brother and I did was work to lose our accents because we got tired of being the object of curiosity.
DH: You describe yourself as an Afrofuturist. What does that mean?
MB: A futurist looks at things and tries to project different trends. An Afrofuturist is the same thing, except just doing it through the Black cultural lens. So, everything I’m doing is rooted in our historical past. I’m projecting using our culture, history, and technology.
DH: Is your writing fiction or nonfiction?
MB: It’s not fiction or nonfiction. It’s a reflection of Black cultural art. When you think of music, it’s like Sun Ra, Parliament-Funkadelic or Missy Elliott or Janelle Monáe. When you think of art, you think Basquiat.
The term popped in the cultural consciousness in
the past couple of years because of the movie Black Panther. People saw that film and thought Afrofuturism is something new. It’s not. Afrofuturism is what we’ve always done. It goes back to Martin Delany or W.E.B. Du Bois, who was a science fiction writer which is something a lot of people did not know. We’ve always projected ourselves in the future. We’ve always planned for tomorrow. We’ve always dreamed about what could be for us.
DH: Based upon your writings, how many of your stories have you seen come to fruition?
MB: I wasn’t always a futurist; I spent the first half of my career as a horror writer, and I was writing from a place of anger about the history that led us to this point. Anger about the circumstances we find ourselves in and injustices we face. As an Afrofuturist, I am writing from a place of hope and what could be. Don’t get wrong, there are still problems. But we’re here, and we’re dealing with those problems.
DH: You clearly have a love for words. Can you tell me a little bit about when you developed a love for words and storytelling?
MB: When I first came to this country, they didn’t know what grade to put me in, so they kept skipping me ahead in school. But then, they had to stop. My teacher put me in the back of the room, gave me a stack of paper and said, ‘OK, I know you’re not supposed to be in this grade, so we’re just going to have you create and just write stuff.’ I did this basically the whole school year. So, you know, I was thinking, ‘Wow! The American school system is wonderful. All I must do is sit here and write stories all day.’ There was a love of story instilled in me by both my parents. My dad was a consummate storyteller. It didn’t matter what it was. He always told the best stories. So even if you ask him about his past, about the same incident in his past, he will tell it one way one day, and it was like he completely remembered differently the next time he told the same story.
Then there’s my mother. She’s from Jamaica. At night, you know, she would always regale us with the best stories.
She would drive us nuts with her stories. We didn’t have a television so all we had were stories to pass down to each other. I didn’t appreciate that at all. But, you know, now coming up as a writer, I can’t get enough of her stories.
DH: Is there an overarching message or theme in your writing?
MB: One theme is identity. I’m always asking, ‘Who are you and who are we?’ Then there’s home. What does home mean to you? After that, it is the celebration of culture. I love culture and history.
DH: Who are some of your favorite authors?
MB: N.K. Jemisin is at the top of that list. Walter Mosley because I love crime fiction. Sheree Renée Thomas, and there’s also Victor LaValle.
DH: Where do you find inspiration?
MB: My neighbors and my community.
DH: Tell me a little bit about your work at the Kheprw Institute.
MB: I’m a part of the Café Creative team that is using entrepreneurial experiences to train up young leaders. Café Creative engages artists in the community. We’re focused on the concept of community wealth building. We ask ourselves what does it look like for artists to be about community wealth building? How do we build wealth for the entire community through different artistic opportunities?
DH: What’s your favorite color and why?
MB: Green. There was a comic book series I read called Mage. There was a phrase that a wizard by the name of Mirth would say to Kevin Matchstick (the main character). He’d say ‘The magic is green.’ That’s why green is my favorite color. It represents magic, life and celebration. ✂
IG @mauricebroaddus
TECOVAS, THE STANDARD BROWN BOOT. THIS PAIR IS THE WORK HORSE, GIT-ER-DUN PICK OF THE DAY.
MOVE OVER, COWBOY POLITICIANS. The footwear most associated with winning elections isn’t just a prop for Indiana Governor Eric Holcomb; it’s been part of his style much longer than he’s been in politics.
You’re just as likely to see Gov. Holcomb in boots at the office as you are on a day off. “If you buy a good pair of boots that form to your foot, they feel like a leather glove,” he says. “I can scoot around my office in my boots easier than a pair of penny loafers.”
The two-time governor says he has always loved cowboy boots, but his taste ramped up during a three-year stint in Jacksonville, Florida, where he served in the United States Navy just out of college. “It’s a cross between a collection and an addiction,” Holcomb says. How many does he own? He guesses the current count exceeds single digits. That number isn’t likely to shrink because he never discards.
In the mix are old, comfy boots, boots in different skins and styles, and sentimental boots like the pair with Indiana embellishments, a gift from his wife, worn the day of his first inauguration. On any given day, the chosen boot “just depends on your mood, and what’s going on throughout the day, whether you’re in a leather or suede kind of mood,” he says.
Among his favorites are a pair made by Lucchese, resurrected after an unfortunate encounter with a family pet. “They were a wedding gift, and they probably cost more than the used car I was driving at the time,” Holcomb says. “I came home and my wife’s new dog had eaten the toe off one of the boots.”
Janet Holcomb reached out to Lucchese to see about getting them repaired. Lucchese agreed to fix them, and the boots were returned to the Holcombs in perfect shape. “When she asked about the charge, they said, ‘No, we’re not going to charge you because you will tell this story a thousand times, and it’ll be worth it,’” Holcomb says. “And here I am, decades later, retelling that story.”
After leaving Jacksonville, Holcomb gained a larger lens on the world by finishing his U.S. Navy career in Lisbon, Portugal, where he was stationed for three years. “I’ve had a lot of opportunities to see life all over the world, but there’s no place like home, and being able to come back here, be involved in multiple administrations, and see our state turn around,” he says.
Holcomb is upbeat about Indiana’s economic future, justifying his stance by several indicators. “A lot of people don’t realize this, but we’re the smallest state west of the Alleghenies in the continental U.S. in terms of land mass, with only a couple of percent of the nation’s population, but we’re 16th in GDP, so we punch way above our weight class,” he says. “We are organized to make the math work with a tax and regulatory environment that can foster growth and cultivate an environment where a small business can grow at their preferred scale and speed.”
PECAN TECOVAS, THE ALL-TERRAIN PAIR CAN DRESS UP JEANS OR MAKE A BLUE SUIT POP.
As proof of Indiana’s robust economy, he rattles off a list of distinctions: 28 percent of the nation’s steel production, makers of 80 percent of the world’s RVs, the top manufacturing state per capita in the U.S., producing everything from jet engines and automobiles, to limestone products and medical devices.
He considers the Regional Economic Acceleration and Development Initiative (READI) one of Indiana’s most creative initiatives for retaining and attracting people and businesses—a top concern since at least 2014, when Indiana identified population stagnation and a shrinking pool of talent as the top threats to the state’s economic growth. Designed to accelerate economic and population growth in 17 regions throughout the state, the READI program has invested $500 million in regional projects intended to improve the quality of life in communities. That money multiplied through matching investments from municipalities, private and philanthropic sources.
UNPRECEDENTED GROWTH, UNPARALLELED HOSPITALITY
“For every dollar we put in the kitty, they put in four,” he says. “That $500 million has attracted $9.8 billion, an investment the likes of which we’ve never seen before. It turns out that good money chases good money.” No one benefits more from these targeted investments than small businesses around the state, according to Holcomb. Since the program started, Indiana has enjoyed several consecutive years of positive migration and population growth in contrast to surrounding states. Holcomb cites a U-Haul survey that ranks Indiana sixth in the U.S. for inbound migration.
Other signs that Indiana is on a good trajectory, he says, are the state’s 2.7 unemployment rate—the lowest in 46 years—and a record number of new business permits issued by the Secretary of State in 2021. “We also had a record year of new job commitments during a global pandemic,” he says. Similarly, he says 2021 was a recordsetting year for capital investment and new payroll.
“What I’m most proud of is the culture and the welcoming demeanor we exhibit,” Holcomb says. Hoosier hospitality was on full display a couple of months ago when the last of 700 Afghan evacuees left Camp Atterbury and restarted their lives. “Camp Atterbury was their Ellis Island, and our state showed well,” he says. “That’s what we do. You throw in basketball, throw in racing and a tenderloin bigger than my head, and I’m good.” ✂
IN THE MIX ARE OLD, COMFY BOOTS, BOOTS IN DIFFERENT SKINS AND STYLES, AND SENTIMENTAL BOOTS LIKE THE PAIR WITH INDIANA EMBELLISHMENTS, A GIFT FROM HIS WIFE, WORN THE DAY OF HIS FIRST INAUGURATION. ON ANY GIVEN DAY, THE CHOSEN BOOT “JUST DEPENDS ON YOUR MOOD, AND WHAT’S GOING ON THROUGHOUT THE DAY, WHETHER YOU’RE IN A LEATHER OR SUEDE KIND OF MOOD,” HE SAYS.MOST SENTIMENTAL PAIR BLACK, STATE OF INDIANA ON FRONT, BRAND--BLACKJACK. HOLCOMB’S WIFE GIFTED HIM THIS PAIR FOR HIS 2017 GUBERNATORIAL SWEARING IN. A REPLICA OF A PAIR GIFTED IN 2011 THAT HAD BEEN REPAIRED SO MANY TIMES THAT SHE INSISTED ON REPLACING THE ORIGINALS IN THE ROTATION.
GRAY TECOVAS, BECAUSE EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS NOT BLACK AND WHITE, NOR ARE BOOTS.
“I WEAR THESE, BECAUSE MOST PEOPLE DON’T.”
JOHN SMITH
DESIGN BY MEGAN GRAY
At the start of the new year, I was cleaning out my apartment in Brunswick, Georgia, packing my car, and driving towards Indianapolis. I had a singular vision: to start a new artistic venture. Up until this point I worked as a photographer and marketer for a small clothing store on Saint Simons Island, taking interior design photography gigs on the side. As a recent art school graduate, I was anxious to once again create work for purposes other than advertising; and in order to do this, I knew I needed to put myself around other artists again.
When I reached out to the Harrison Center, I expressed my interest in being back in a gallery context, experimenting with photography and other media in a studio setting. Fortunately, this led to a temporary residency that has since evolved into a year-long fellowship. The following entries describe what it’s like on a day-today basis as a Harrison Center artist in-residence.
week
Thursday
Today has been spent preparing for tomorrow’s Open Studio Night. This means cleaning up scraps of paper and hiding unused frames in my studio. As part of my artist residency, I’ve been provided with a studio space on the upper floor of the center where I can create freely. My space has turned into a photo studio/mixed-media haven where, when I’m not editing images in Photoshop, I like to experiment with manipulating paper and fibers, or cutting into printed photographs to create collage-style artworks.
FridayTonight, I’m exhibiting a fashion portrait series I shot in February with a few long-term neighbors of Indianapolis affectionately called “The Greatriarchs.” This series was made in collaboration with local costume designer Stephen Hollenbeck and ended up being lots of fun to shoot. As a non-traditional gallery space, the Harrison Center is always thinking of outside-of-the-box ways to share its artists’ work with the community; so tonight we decided to project these images onto an empty wall in the building’s gymnasium. This is my first Open Studio Night at the Harrison Center, and there’s plenty of art, energy, and wine to go around.
SaturdayI met Yuta not long after I moved to Indy in January. I showed up alone to a RuPaul’s Drag Race viewing party at Tini one Friday night and he was kind enough to offer me a seat and introduce me to his friends. We’ve been trying to plan a just-for-fun photoshoot for the past couple of months, and today we finally made the time. We shot at our friend Chad’s house using a simple monolight setup.
I’ve been itching to go skating since I moved to Indianapolis, and I finally got my chance this afternoon. A couple of my friends are visiting Indy for the weekend so we met up at the Roller Cave. There’s something about the dim, psychedelic atmosphere of a skating rink that always hits me with a huge wave of nostalgia. This was a challenging environment to photograph because of the low-light, but I love how the resulting photos seem to have a film-like quality.
I’m enjoying an afternoon with my volunteer host Pam Allee. Pam is a previous Harrison Center administrator and long term Indianapolis art patron. She now volunteers as a host for out of town artist residents, and kindly offered me a room in her home in the Old Northside. Pam (along with cats Midge and Phoebe) have been helping me acclimate to living in a new city.
The morning was spent filling in at the front desk and helping finalize the center’s art sales from Friday night. One of my favorite parts of being a photographer in a gallery setting is the possibility of selling prints of my work. Because modern photography exists mainly in the digital world, it’s always nice to have opportunities for people to connect with my photographs in-person. There’s nothing more affirming than seeing someone interested in buying a piece of your artwork; it’s like they’re saying “This is something that I want to bring into my world.”
Wednesday
From the rooftop of the Harrison Center you can get a bird’s eye view of the Old Northside neighborhood. Before moving to Indianapolis, I was living on the southeast coast in the city of Brunswick, Georgia. Indy, with its colder weather and midwestern sensibilities, has been a noticeable change of pace. I’m looking forward to seeing the city begin to liven up as spring approaches, and for all the upcoming projects and excitement that this time of year has to offer.
The northwest side of Indy is the hometown of Jazmine Kempin, who writes under the name of Spaceyamzz, and Ariana Beedie, who writes under the name of Ari Attack. In many ways, it’s the Indy art scene that raised them. Musician parents, school bands, and artist friends and family defined their childhood. But after returning to Indy post-college, they noticed a problem. No one was paying attention to the Black, brown, and minority artists they knew so well. In 2016, the pair co-founded Face A Face Collective, known as FAF Collective: an independent media outlet that shines a light on Black, brown, and minority voices that make up the Indy art scene.
Allison Troutner: When you returned to Indy, you noticed a lack in coverage and conversations around minority artists. Why is FAF Collective a solution to that gap?
ARIANA BEEDIE: We’re fans of these people. We’re community supporters. The whole reason that I took to music journalism is that I was surrounded by musicians. My dad's a musician. I come from a family of artists, and so art is the most important thing. It was important for us to come back and cover these people.
JAZMINE KEMPIN: When we reconnected, we realized we both like music, and we’re both journalists. We were back in Indy and wanted to know what’s happening in the city. But no one was talking about it at the time. Then we said, ‘Hey, why don’t we?’
AT: FAF Collective highlights Black, brown, and marginalized voices. You also ask some hard questions about Indianapolis’ support of local art. What are those questions you’re asking of Indy?
AB: Right now, the main question I have is, are we all going to be able to afford to live here in a few years? Are we going to be able to have grocery stores in
neighborhoods and stop the food apartheid? Arts and music are our bread and butter, but the community, news, and so many other things weave into our arts and music community. We are all neighbors and average citizens trying to pay our bills.
JK: I’ve had three generations of family here. Like I got stories. I know this city inside and out. It’s weird to see how it’s changed. I want to know, is there still going to be room for me, my family, my kids, and my grandkids?
AT: What are the challenges minority local artists have faced when starting or growing their careers in Indy?
JK: Beyond the obvious, funding, location, and recognition, the thing about Indy is that everyone is cliquish. Ari and I are from the northwest side. But other people are from the south side or east side, north side, and donut counties, and we don't mesh well. It’s not on purpose; it’s just how Indy is.
AB: I feel like we have a gift to step across lines and connect. We know the Indie white boy rockers; we are steeped in the hip-hop community. We know the weird installation artists, the fashion community, and skaters. We work to get out and connect with as many people as possible. I think a big challenge people have is making those connections.
AT: Why is work like yours, as a Black and femaleowned media group, important in Indy today?
JK: We’re reflecting on Indianapolis as we see it. We know the people, we know the shows, we know the venues. We want to make sure they’re getting their shine. We keep telling our stories so they can live on because if we don’t, no one else is going to. ✂
PHOTOGRAPHY BY MYRIAM NICODEMUS
DESIGN BY CARRIE KELB
Founded in 1906 by the United States Steel Corporation, Gary, Indiana’s got one hell of a story and a list of monikers to match. It’s located directly between the Indiana Dunes National Park and the Chicago Loop–not much more than a thirty minute drive to either and easily accessible by the South Shore Line commuter train. In the past decade a $28 million grant supported the restoration of Marquette Park in the Miller neighborhood along Lake Michigan. The Hoosiers we’ve met through our exploration of this city have blown us away in their kindness, imagination, and ability to mobilize. All we can say is don’t sleep on Gary.
A N D T H E N
T H E R E
G A R Y
THROUGH MUCH OF THE EARLY AND MIDTWENTIETH CENTURY, GARY, INDIANA, SERVED AS A STAGE FOR LABOR PROTECTION, FOR EFFECTIVE MULTI-RACIAL ORGANIZING, AND FOR BLACK POLITICAL POWER. IN THE LATER DECADES THE CITY WAS GUTTED BY THE SHIFTING TIDES OF THE STEEL INDUSTRY, WHITE FLIGHT, AND REDLINING. THE NINETIES PLAYED OUT THE DEVASTATING ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL AFTERMATH, AND MOST HOOSIERS WERE HANDED THE NARRATIVE: THERE’S INDIANA, AND THEN THERE’S GARY. AND YOU DON’T GO TO GARY.
A native Hoosier myself, I lived by those words without much question until I took a 2018 trip on the South Shore Line from Michigan City, Indiana, to Chicago. From my window seat I saw a pristine minor league baseball field, bright and colorful murals, and a small downtown that looked decidedly past its prime but not dangerous. It wasn’t what I expected.
Anyone with internet access can find that the population of Gary has dropped more than 60 percent from its height in 1960 and that the median household income is currently less than $32,000. That means there are a lot of living units with no one to live in them, a lot of used-to-be business spaces, and not a lot of money in the hands of the people. These aren’t great numbers for a traditional urban environment, but the people of Gary seem to have something else in mind.
Not unlike the urban garden movement in Detroit, many residents of Gary have repurposed vacant lots throughout the city. Anecdotally, there are ten functioning urban gardens in Gary. I spoke with Gary native and former nurse Freida Graves about one of them.
S
Graves joined FAITH Farms around 2015 as the farm administrator within a few years of its founding by Curtis Whittaker, Sr. Whittaker was an accountant and the pastor of the FAITH congregation. Concerned about climate change and access to quality food for his community, he saw an opportunity to both feed and educate his neighbors through an urban garden. He funded it himself.
Within a decade and with the support of more than fifty volunteers and a couple staff members, what started as a handful of raised beds in an empty lot has grown into four hoop gardens, a flock of chickens, a raft of ducks, a growing herd of goats, honeybees, and a grove of pawpaw trees.
In addition to the educational opportunities and exposure offered through multigenerational programming, FAITH Farms sells at local farmers markets, accepting EBT, SNAP, WIC, and vouchers from the Senior Farmers’ Market Nutrition Program (SFMNP). They also supply a public, outdoor, and unlocked refrigerator for those who need access to fresh food.
Graves says, “We want to rebuild our community, and we think it can be done.” The dreams of FAITH Farms are big and include a tiny house village with backyard gardens. It could provide housing, community, and purpose to kids who have aged out of the foster care system and to senior citizens. They also want to start a produce co-op. That could make more affordable produce easily accessible—perhaps with a juice bar and a wellness center.
Gary native Samuel Love is rooted in social practice including the traditions of oral history, making him a natural fit to be the editor of The Gary Anthology, a collection and organization of stories from Belt Publishing. About the publication, Love says, “The nicest part is that it’s an introduction to talking about thirty-five other people.” He also acknowledges that because it is part of a series of anthologies about the Rust Belt, it is able to get larger reach and traction than a local zine might have found.
The anthology reflects this by including personal narrative, poetry, and photography and ultimately represents every neighborhood within the city. Through this book, Love was able to put his social practices down in a physical form and give the people in and from Gary the chance to read their own stories rather than what has been circulated about them.
Love’s introduction to the collection offers the nuance and context missing from so much of what is said about Gary in the media. The history is thick. The people are not a monolith. The possibilities are endless and precarious.
Ask Love what his dream for Gary is, though, and it’s transformational environmental justice. He also hopes for everyone in Gary to have a chance to speak up for themselves, their neighbors, and their communities. Community-organizing groups such as Brown Faces Green Spaces and the Decay Devils are making headway in these directions, but it’s a long road no matter where you start.
Lauren Pacheco, originally from Chicago’s Southside, grew up regularly passing through Gary with her family on their way to property further east. It wasn’t until later when she was looking for outdoor space of her own, that she considered the city as more than a shortcut to elsewhere.
After moving into the Miller neighborhood, Pacheco started exploring Gary to get a sense of the space and the communities living there. She says, “When you drive around Gary as a creative, you’re compelled to do something.” Now, she’s collaborating with local artists and presenting mural locations to the city for approval, not unlike work she’d previously done in Chicago. She funded the first summer of the #PaintGary mural project with her own money.
“The work I’m doing—and I’m not alone in this—is taking an opportunity to claim space, to call attention to the state of the city, to bring some creative, beautiful moment to the city in an unexpected place. But with #PaintGary I’m asking myself what do I actually want people to do?”
The answer turned out to be simple: She wanted people to come to Gary. Pacheco created Destination Gary, an initiative that encompasses public art, cultural mapping, policy thinking, place making, vacant space activation, and a hybrid multidisciplinary incubator downtown.
As the Director of Arts Programming and Engagement at Indiana University Northwest, she’s constantly looking for opportunities to bring institutional resources to the table and to pivot the perception of the city. She is also urging the people of Gary to be clear on what they really want. Pacheco says, “I stand by the idea that we can be this new interpretation of a creative city. All I see is potential.” ✂
Mayor Jerome Prince was born and raised in Gary, Indiana. He was sworn in as Chief Executive Officer of the City of Gary in 2020. Mayor Prince has a long tenure of public service, including serving in the U.S. Marine Corp and serving three terms as the Fifth District Gary City Councilman. In 2014, he became the first AfricanAmerican County Assessor in the State of Indiana. His administration’s strategic vision is to Re-Imagine Gary through technology innovation, economic development, and creating a safer and cleaner city.
TABITHA BARBOUR: What was it like to grow up in Gary?
MAYOR JEROME PRINCE: I had a great childhood. We did not have all of the things my friends had, but I did not feel like we missed a beat. I lived in the Miller area. It was a great place to raise children
TB: What do you think is particularly unique about the African American history of Gary?
MJP: When folks migrated here from the south, this was considered a hub because it provided employment opportunities. At one point US Steel employed about 30,000 residents. My dad, my grandfather, and his brothers worked at the mill. From a cultural perspective, there was absolutely a lot of pride here in the city. I believe that started
with our schools. Gary was known for its educational system. In a lot of ways, the Gary model became a model for folks around the country. I want to acknowledge the importance of Roosevelt High School. A lot of famous folks attended and went on to do great things in the city and across Gary, including what I consider to be the most famous entertainment family in the United States—the Jacksons.
TB: What efforts are being made to preserve this history?
MJP: Roosevelt High School was the first school that African-Americans were integrated in. There have been different efforts to preserve it as a museum.
TB: WHAt inspired you to run for mayor?
MJP: Experiences from my past public service, a love for the city, a vision that I had, and a desire to see the city return to its greatest.
TB: WHAT are your focus initiatives?
MJP: My primary focus is to establish a cleaner and safer city. It’s a vision of remembering what Gary was, but re-imagining what it can and should be in the future. This involves creating a technology hub and capitalizing on our broadband or lack of broadband.
Secondly, we want to make it a destination city. We want to capitalize on the tremendous location with it being just twenty minutes from the third largest city in the United States—Chicago.
Recently, we have realized tremendous advancements in terms of technology. One is Fulcrum Bio Energy Plant. They are in the process of establishing their home office here, as well as an opportunity to turn waste into jet fuel. This is a $600 million investment touted to provide at least 137 full time jobs to residents of the city. There is also our GIVE (Guaranteed Income Validation Effort) program. We are in the last six months of the program. What we have realized is that by giving people an opportunity
to help themselves, they have certainly done just that. Our efforts there were to collect the data to share with our national leaders to consider universal income for all persons in the United States.
Lastly, we are working to make Gary Airport the third regional airport. We are working to expand our cargo operations. In the last few years, we have welcomed UPS. UPS continues to expand their operations here. There is an aspect of passenger service where we do have customs and border patrol operations and we are able to accept international flights. We believe that this will play a part in making Gary a destination city.
TB: What do you think has been most impactful under your administration to overcoming some of the city’s challenges?
MJP: I think what has been most impactful is the vision that we have for restoring the core basic values that our residents hold. Everyone wants to see a clean city. We are making tremendous progress in that effort by engaging all of our city employees and our residents. The name of our cleanup effort is All In. Because we certainly know that it takes the effort of everyone.
TB: What do you see when you imagine Gary ten years from now?
MJP: I see Gary as a major player in the tech industry. We firmly believe that Gary can become a technology focal point for Northwest Indiana and possibly a model for the country.
TB: What inspires you to lead your community?
MJP: I’m inspired by all of the challenges and opportunities that exist. I believe I was led here on a natural progression and find myself with the opportunity to lend a hand to continue the progress of moving the city forward. ✂
Returning to Gary from college in the late 2000s, Tyrell Anderson scarcely recognized his city. “It was blighted and abandoned. It was almost culture shock. It was almost a totally different city.” This led Anderson and other like-minded residents to form the Decay Devils in 2011. Starting as an urban exploration group adventuring beyond Gary, the Decay Devils quickly turned their attention home.
Now in their twelfth year, the Decay Devils continue to blend arts, preservation, and community engagement in their mission of restoring abandoned historical landmarks.
They recently launched the online Unapologetic project—an ongoing, multi-agency portraiture project. “Unapologetic 2022 is now online at www.unapologetic.art,” says Anderson. “It’s our way to connect with our peers and highlight our similarities versus our differences.”
Lori Gonzales, Decay Devils co-founder, pointed out that the online presence “increases our reach and creates more exposure on the topics of culture, celebrating differences, and decreasing divisions within society through the medium of photography.”
The Unapologetically Noir project explored Blackness and identity in Northwest Indiana. Next is Unapologetically Avant Garde, in partnership with the Purdue Northwest Society of Innovators, and followed this autumn by Unapologetically NWI.
The Decay Devils continue their community engagement in Gary in 2022, again offering their popular neighborhood bike rides, with locations and itineraries to be announced later. A community block party with the Gary Community Partnership is planned for early August. And they bring the Dismantle Preservation Learning Lab to Gary this autumn. (Anderson will present at the Dismantle Preservation Learning Lab in Winston-Salem, North Carolina this spring.) See www.decaydevils.org for details on Gary events.
D E C A Y
Expanding their engagement to the younger generations, the Decay Devils are following-up their 2021 book, I Still Play In Abandoned Buildings, with a children’s book about historical preservation. “This book focuses on teaching children about historical preservation and the importance of taking care of our buildings,” says Gonzalez. “Each building holds history and has its own story that should be acknowledged. We are working towards illustration to make this book come to life.”
Their priority remains Gary’s former Union Station, a 1910 Beaux Arts landmark in the shadow of US Steel, hidden between freight lines and the Indiana Toll Road. Since incorporating it as non-profit in 2015, the Decay Devils have made a long-term commitment to securing the steel-framed structure and returning it to public use.
Says Anderson, “We are still working on raising funds to rehab the property. This will likely be a combination of grants, donations, and potentially loans. It’s a lengthy project because our entire organization is volunteer. Work and family are at the forefront for us. All that’s left is poured into the organization.”
“Our priority is to transform this historical landmark into a usable space for the community,” says Gonzalez. “We envision developing Union Station as a multi-purpose space with a historical element. Once fully restored, residents and visitors will have a safe space to foster positive social interactions over food, art, and much more.” ✂
D E V I L S
PHOTOGRAPHY BY POLINA OSHEROV ASSISTED BY ESTHER BOSTON
STYLE BY LAURA WALTERS [STYLE RIOT]
MAKEUP BY KIMBERLY BLACK CRAWFORD [AESTHETIC ARTIST AGENCY]
HAIR BY PHILIP SALMON MODEL JOEY ROSE [HEYMAN TALENT AGENCY]
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS ANNE LAKER AND JENNY WALTON
DESIGN BY JULIE MAKEPEACE
SPECIAL THANK YOU TO MS. BENITA RHYMES, MRS. VALERIE LEE AND THE GARY PUBLIC LIBRARY.
MODEL
ANIYA
TOP,
WITTY
BY
CODI SKIRT,
RAEMIA
STYLE EARRINGS,
AMAZON
PHOTOGRAPHY BY SOLOMON MABRY
STYLE BY RAEMIA HIGGINS / AESTHETIC ARTIST AGENCY /
ASSISTED BY TYRAH BREWER / AESTHETIC ARTIST AGENCY /
HAIR BY DANI OGLESBY / TEXTURE MANAGEMENT /
MAKEUP BY JA’TWON HENDERSON / AESTHETIC ARTIST AGENCY /
DESIGN BY JOHN ILANG-ILANG
Our VOL. 20 issue marked ten years of PATTERN Magazine! To celebrate the launch of our Music Issue we hosted a pop-up at Parlor Public House where we enjoyed performances from musicians featured in the magazine.
Okara Imani, Double A, Allison Victoria, Public Universal Friend, Emerson Vernon, Neil, Clint Breeze, ALX8, Ali Buckets, Baby Ebony, and Scotty Apex packed the house for the evening. Shout out to 99.1 WQRT for broadcasting our artists live. As always Creative Fellows, interns, and volunteers made the event possible through their hard work. Thanks to everyone who made this evening such a success!
IT IS PART OF THE JOB. HOWEVER, WHEN I DID IT, I HAD A DIFFERENT perspective than other mayors. After twenty-three years in the Marines, I had lived in different cities across America and the world. I knew that Indianapolis was different. I knew that Hoosier Hospitality was real and not just a slogan.
I WAS OFTEN ASKED WHAT THE BEST PART IS ABOUT BEING THE MAYOR. The answer was simple. There are people all over Indianapolis doing small acts of kindnesses for their neighbors or for those in need. These acts will never be on TV or in the newspapers, but they are happening. Because I was talking to neighborhood organizations routinely, I was able to see more of this activity than almost anyone in the city.
THERE WAS A LADY IN HAUGHVILLE WHO GAVE OUT $5 OR $10 TO THE CHILDREN IN HER NEIGHBORHOOD IF they showed her a good report card. There was a small restaurant that gave their profits to help addicted women. There is a gentleman on the northwest side who has dedicated his life to organizing soccer programs for the kids in the area. These selfless acts are common in the city. I was fortunate to see so many of these kindnesses.
INDIANAPOLIS HAS ALSO BEEN BLESSED WITH MANY TALENTED, VISIONARY PEOPLE WHO MAPPED OUT a plan to move our city from India-no-place to the vibrant city of today. Using sports as a strategy, they attracted events, national governing bodies, the NCAA, the Colts, and other organizations. Indianapolis is now the turnkey city in America for major sporting events. Not cheerleading. Fact.
HOWEVER, THEY ALSO BROUGHT ALONG OTHER SECTORS NECESSARY FOR A MAJOR CITY. INDIANAPOLIS HAS the most esteemed animal conservation prize in the world, and many consider Indianapolis as the global leader for species survival. Our city hosts one of the top three violin competitions in the world along with a nationally prestigious piano competition. We have three innovative dance organizations for which I attended as many shows as I could while mayor. We are the national leader in highperforming charter schools. We have the best airport in North America and one of the best downtowns in the country. Of course, we host the largest one-day sporting event in the world, the Indianapolis 500. All this while maintaining a noble humility.
THIS IS WHAT SEPARATES INDIANAPOLIS FROM ITS PEERS. WE HAVE GOOD PEOPLE.
GREGORY BALLARD FORMER MAYOR OF INDIANAPOLIS
