In the Studio: Blackhawks and Abandoned Buildings

When I woke up yesterday, I thought I would just be going to the studio to create a handful of new paintings for an upcoming show. What I didn't know was that a friend would ask me to help him move some things into a building and paint a giant billboard sign. As it turns out, this building was a monstrous abandoned structure that sat hulking in the mist as we approached in his small red chevelle. As we pulled up to the security gate (he had access, of course) he leaned over to me and said "just watch out for the first floor. Those dogs will rip your arm off. As long as you stay clear of that floor, you are okay."

I think this is a good place to backtrack a little and explain that abandoned buildings are to me what roller coasters are to small children: both exciting and dangerous and even more exciting to talk about after exploring them. Anyone who knows the story of my artwork knows that most, if not all, of my materials come from abandoned buildings, barns or old farm houses that I visit from time to time. Part of my trade-off with these places is that I always leave a present for the house: sometimes I make a small painting, sometimes I write a little story and leave it on the window ledge. For me, it's about trading things with the house or building, letting it know that I am an artist who will use the material I find in a creative and appropriate way. Most people think this sounds crazy, but I'm superstitious so this is just my way of making peace with the spirits.

So to continue my exploration, we drove into the loading dock of this gigantic structure, and then the doors closed and we headed up the old elevator. I helped my friend carry some supplies to the third floor. He then asked me if I had a flashlight and sent me off to explore. I spent three hours walking and searching the structure, peering into elevator shafts, opening old closet doors, and enjoying the eeriness of such a huge abandoned space.

The building was mostly empty, but I did manage to find a few scraps here and there. I've tuned my eyes to pick out various small details in these types of spaces, so I came away with a delicate supply of next week's art materials. Here they are:




After my little scavenger hunt, I came back to help my friend paint his billboard. What he failed to mention was that the sign was hanging over the expressway, that it was sports related, and that I was selected to get on the tallest ladder because I have long arms. Fortunately, I have some experience with this type of work, as I once logged many hours standing on a 60 ft ladder painting buildings for a reckless old alcoholic in the summer heat. So I was prepared. As I started to paint, I heard a car horn and then another and as cars and trucks zoomed past on the expressway underneath, it occurred to me that I was painting a sign of a sports team in Chicago that was actually successful, and who might actually win something, and so all the fans driving by were sharing their enthusiasm for this achievement. I paused for a brief moment and felt a of sense of pride that, even though I had nothing to do with this team and essentially knew nothing about them, I was happy to be participating in an historical moment in Chicago sports history. (Albeit in an extremely removed way). So with zest I finished the sign and stepped back to look at my handiwork. Granted, I was only doing touch up work; my friend actually painted the giant sign and I was merely adding some red paint to highlight his work, but I was pretty happy with it. And I guess it would be appropriate to say here: Go Hawks!