I
spent some time at the Village of Arts and Humanities in north Philadelphia (http://villagearts.org/). It is located in a neighborhood that has—or had—a
lot of empty lots. A lot of lots. Many of these have been transformed by the
organization to be gardens of different types: vegetable gardens, where youth
and elders were watering (before the thunderstorm broke through the 90 degree
heat). Gardens with mosaic benches and
sculptures. An open air stage. There was nothing going on when I was there;
and there was everything. There was
nothing going on when I was there; and yet, because of the art and the space it
created for people, it felt inhabited.
Some
of the murals in the Village area were on buildings whose backyards were full
of junk and weeds. Some were on vacant
buildings. Most people in the
Philadelphia area probably never venture to see the great art work there,
because it’s in “a rough area”. I last
saw the area 8 years ago, when I was still living in Philly, and some things
have not changed: beautiful community-created art next to abandoned buildings. In some ways, that is exactly where art
should be: calling attention not primarily to itself, but to the community that
created it and lives in and around it, and their longing for justice, healing
and love.
I
suppose you could ask if all the effort that went into creating the gardens and
sculptures and murals and other public art made any difference. I sometimes ask myself that about our Semilla Community Arts Program and the ministry
of our church in general. But when I was
walking through the uninhabited inhabited beauty of those gardens today—smelling
the flowers, and stopping under the shade trees, and even keeping an eye out
for rats as I walked through an overgrown jungle of weeds—I had no doubt.
Be
beauty. Be justice.
Patrick
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