I am a huge fan of Access Arts and their projects, having enjoyed their exhibitions on Belle Isle immensely. They branched out this spring to partner with Forward Arts and the Woodbridge Neighborhood Development Corporation to clean up Scripps Park and present a show there.
They included a "student artist" component to the show as part of their mission to create opportunities for youth arts education. The piece above was my favorite of the student entries, with its description below:
This edge of the Woodbridge neighborhood is a point of contact between two Detroits.... one of homelessness, joblessness, lack of education and skills, sometimes mental illness, and soul-sucking poverty; and one of hopefulness in the form of a relatively stable neighborhood core, and a cadre of energetic, idealistic and determined students, artists, activists, and residents young and old... I hate to use the word hipsters because it can be hard to see the individuals past the word, but sometimes the shoe does seem to fit.
I am very interested in points of contacts like this to find ideas on how (as we try to build the city back up) we can "gentrify" without "disenfranchising". I put those words in quotes because I think they're both loaded with heavy baggage.
The people behind the show, who worked so hard on cleaning and fixing up the park and creating the installations, have been a little discouraged and dismayed by some events of the past weekend. Whole exhibits and improvements to the park made of materials as precious as plastic shipping crates, tires, and plastic bags were rearranged and even removed.
The day the show opened, the park was filled with people picnicking, walking their dogs, and generally enjoying their day. Maybe nothing Gold can stay, but the golden glow of that day returns, again and again, in every creative act it inspires. Rising from the ashes, right?
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.Robert Frost
