Skyline Nine Times, Part 1: Let’s Talk About Murals

detail of mural depicting stylized downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Bright lights, mid-sized city. Mural depicting downtown Pittsburgh … or, at least, PPG Tower is represented, Uptown

Tall towers thrust skyward into a night sky lit up in aurora borealis-like technicolor fantasia. The buildings, black in darkness but each lit from hundreds of glowing window insets, cant in wild directions with the hyperextended angularity of so much German expressionism.

The painting covers a full exterior wall on a little building on Gist Street, Uptown. Whether or not it’s supposed to represent downtown Pittsburgh is questionable, but with the spiky spires of PPG Tower clear in the foreground the mural must at least be inspired by its host city.

mural on brick wall with downtown Pittsburgh skyline and the Eiffel Tower
The Paris of Appalachia. Frenchi’s, Oakland

Like tribbles, vape shops, and yes, Omicron cases, art and design representations of downtown Pittsburgh’s skyline seem to mutate and regenerate at an exponential rate. Why this, our ninth story on the subject, had so many new skylines collected in just the last few months that we’re breaking the recent arrivals into two parts.

This then is Part 1: Let’s talk about murals where we get down with original artistic creations painted directly to brick, cinderblock, and plaster (plus one “outside art” painting). Next week, we’ll be back with Part 2: Designs, Signs, and Outlines.

Until then, keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the skyline.

detail from mural featuring downtown Pittsburgh in shades of purple
Erotic City I. Strip District
Mural of downtown Pittsburgh with monkeys holding wrenches
Erotic City II (with monkey mechanics!). Apex Auto, South Side
Mural of Gulf Tower on rounded brick wall
If you have to pick just one skyline element… Gulf Tower, Strip District/Downtown
detail from mural featuring downtown Pittsburgh with jigsaw puzzle pieces
A puzzling city. Uptown
mural depicting yellow bridge and downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Revolution City! Spirit, Lawrenceville
mural of yellow bridge and downtown buildings
Roaming City … but parking is reserved for K-2 employees. K-2 Market, Garfield
mural of woman, farm, vegetables, and downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Earth Mother/Vegetable City. East End Food Co-op, North Point Breeze
painting of downtown Pittsburgh skyline on wood panel on front porch of small house
The city that makes a great impression…istic art subject. Outside art, North Side
detail from mural featuring tops of downtown Pittsburgh's tallest buildings
A Strip District view of the city. Strip District
detail of mural including section of downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Green City. Uptown
mural including crude rendering of downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Flood City. Beltzhoover
shipping container painted with mural including Pittsburgh skyline
The city aglow. Mobile stage, Three Rivers Arts Festival
detail from mural featuring downtown Pittsburgh skyline
A sketch of a city. Salem’s Market, Strip District
large mural including skyline of downtown Pittsburgh
The city with a little bit of everything. Manchester

Let’s Get Small: Bite-Sized Art at the Silver Apple Gallery

little free art gallery with sign reading "Silver Apple"
The newest, tiniest art space in town. Silver Apple Gallery, Main Street, Lawrenceville

“A gallery for all,” declares artist Kirsten Ervin. That mission, inspired by Mayor Gainey’s pledge to make Pittsburgh a city for all, is one of the guiding principals behind the city’s newest, tiniest, and Covid-accessible…est art spaces.

The Silver Apple Gallery, located on Main Street in Lawrenceville, is a project of Ms. Ervin (aka Ms. Orbit) and yours truly. It has but a few cubic feet of display space, parking may be scarce, and don’t count on filling up on hors d’oeuvres at openings, but there’s a lot we can do with this little addition to the art scene.

Inspired by the area’s first little free art gallery, in Sharpsburg, The Ms. asked her Mr. to construct something similar. That turned into a Christmas project/present executed by the most amateur of carpenters from (mostly) scrap wood and a recycled Window by way of Construction Junction. The name was inspired by some fake fruit found at the Center for Creative Reuse and an homage to the great Morton Subotnick. Mild New Year’s weekend weather let us install it right away.

side panel of little free art gallery featuring a cut out silver apple on a red background
How ’bout this apple?

We plan on running the gallery in two modes, alternating month-to-month—but don’t hold us to that; we’re still making this up as we go along.

On the odd-numbered months (January, March, etc.) the space will operate as a little free art gallery. It will remain unlocked and available for artists to drop off their work to show and give away. (Just, please, keep it community-friendly: nothing depicting violence, hate, or overly-sexual.) Like little free libraries, passers-by, collectors, and fellow artists are encouraged to take a piece of art if one speaks to them.

artwork of tiny monster in a dress inside glass display box, created by artist Kirsten Ervin
Kirsten Ervin’s tiny monster in a tiny dress inside a tiny box at the Silver Apple Gallery

On the even months, we’ll turn the space into a full-on tiny art gallery. These will have dedicated shows by individual artists, created for the unique environment. Silver Apple, uh, staff will assist in the hanging, presentation, and lighting the shows. During this time, the gallery will be locked and artists have the option to sell their work directly to those interested. In the Art All Night model, this exchange will be entirely between seller and buyer—The Silver Apple will neither charge a fee nor take a commission.

In February, we’ll be hosting the first individual two-week shows by artists Suzanne Werder (Feb. 1-14) and Ricardo Solis (Feb. 15-28). If you’re an artist who’d like to show at The Silver Apple in the future, either get in touch with us through our Instagram account (@silverapplegallery) or here at the Orbit. When it becomes virologically safe to do so, maybe we’ll even have some little openings on the front porch.

Artist John Lee with his art inside little free art gallery
We caught artist John Lee as he snuck by to drop off his painting “Super Flexible Birdman,” which became the first exhibited piece at the Silver Apple Gallery

“We want The Silver Apple to be accessible, fun, and delightful,” Ervin says, “Hopefully, for people that just stumble across it, the gallery will lift their days. This is our gift to the community and ourselves.”

So please, if you find yourself somewhere around Lawrenceville, stop by, take a peek at what’s in the gallery (it changes every day!), and bring a dog biscuit for Halo, the husky next door.

surrealist pen-and-ink drawing including long serpant and many animal figures with human faces
A Dan Ivec pen-and-ink drawing—likely with a fantastic title we’ll never know—showed-up in the gallery just yesterday.

Silver Apple Gallery is located at 255 Main Street, Central Lawrenceville. Hopefully it will contain something interesting every day of the year, but it may be a little hard to see after dark. To keep up with goings-on at The Silver Apple, we recommend following our Instagram account: @silverapplegallery.

Won’t You Be My Neighborhood Welcome Sign? Part 2

welcome sign for the Manchester neighborhood of Pittsburgh
Manchester, where the greatness of its neighborhood welcome sign is matched only in its cotton candy skies

Thanksgiving’s back, baby! The good news is that last year’s cancellation has been repealed and, by Thursday, families will reunite to resume the polite political discourse, subtle lifestyle judgements, and long-unresolved childhood issues they so dearly missed last year. Sure, the inevitable post-holiday spike in coronavirus cases spreading throughout our union won’t be pleasant, but how will we get to the mu or omicron variants if we don’t all do our share?

Regardless, the city of Pittsburgh will welcome visiting friends and family members when and however they get here. We can collectively cross our fingers that enough folks have been boosterized to handle all the close-quarters jawboning and cross-table finger-pointing that ensues.

neighborhood welcome sign for Fineview, Pittsburgh painted on retaining wall
Fineview

Said visitors will be arriving to a changed city … at least, somewhat. The last two years have been ones of big investment and a little growth. There are plenty of new Legoland™ condos and not a few painful demolitions. But we’ve also seen the creation of some exciting new public spaces and a lot of renewed neighborhood pride.

Why, Fineview’s big retaining wall welcome mural, on Warren Street (photo above), didn’t even exist during Thanksgiving 2019. We like to think the Orbit pointing out the neighborhood’s previous, underwhelming sign had something to do with that, but perhaps it was just coincidence. (For reference, see our first story on this subject from 2018.)

neighborhood welcome sign for Garfield, Pittsburgh painted on side of small market
The Garfield gator!

Whatever prompted neighborhood do-gooders to take up brush and paint, wood and brick to celebrate the pride they have in their corners of the city, we love it. Here then is Part 2 of our neighborhood welcome sign roundup where the casual sign-spotter can enjoy some great new additions to the streetscape, check in on old favorites, and peek at a couple Easter eggs. Sit back with the popcorn … er, turkey sandwich, and watch as Deutschtown and Lawrenceville continue their welcoming open arms race for the most total signage.

A final note:Yes, we’re still missing plenty of place/signs—the southern neighborhoods are woefully underrepresented so far—so there will be a Part 3. Until then, be understanding, try to avoid the petty squabbles, and leave some room for dessert.

mural for Manchester neighborhood of Pittsburgh including praying hands and angels
Praying hands. Manchester
mural on brick wall for Allentown neighborhood of Pittsburgh
All the colors. Allentown
long brick wall painted with mural of setting sun under river bride and the text "Lawrenceville Alive!", Pittsburgh, PA
Lawrenceville Alive!
mural on side of row house with Sasquatch and "Deutschtown" (neighborhood name), Pittsburgh, PA
The Deutschtown Sasquatch!
mural of woman with flowers in her hair for the Deutschtown neighborhood of Pittsburgh
Ja, die Deutschtown Fräulein ist sehr schön
Homewood
sign for West Oakland neighborhood of Pittsburgh reading "This ain't Uptown! Welcome to West Oakland: birthplace of pop artist Andy Warhol"
This ain’t Uptown! Welcome to West Oakland, birth place of pop artist Andy Warhol
welcome sign for the South Side neighborhood of Pittsburgh
South Side. Come and sit here.
Welcome to Spring Garden
cinderblock with stencil image of pig climbing stair steps and text "Troy Hill," Pittsburgh, PA
The Troy Hill welcome cinderblock (since removed)
(Love) Friendship

While The Orbit will always prefer the touch of the human hand, we’d be negligent to not include professionally-produced welcome signs. Some of these are obvious custom jobs and others look mass-marketed. The signs for Stanton Heights and Morningside each look like they were ordered from welcomesigns.com (see below). C’mon, gang! Follow Fineview’s lead and hire a couple artists to work on a nice street-facing retaining wall!

large welcome sign for the Deutschtown neighborhood of Pittsburgh
Welcome to Deutschtown: a national historic district
neighborhood welcome sign for Larimer, Pittsburgh
Larimer. Welcome to our neighborhood.
neighborhood welcome sign for Greenfield, Pittsburgh
Greenfield welcomes you
neighborhood welcome sign for Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh
Welcome to Squirrel Hill
large welcome sign for the Lawrenceville neighborhood of Pittsburgh
Lawrenceville [By the way, The Pilgrim is back at GetGo. We hear you’ll be thankful for every bite.]
neighborhood welcome sign for Stanton Heights, Pittsburgh
Welcome to Stanton Heights neighborhood. Hopefully our homes are better weather-proofed than our welcome sign.
neighborhood welcome sign for Morningside, Pittsburgh
Welcome to Morningside where the echinacea runs free

See also: Won’t You Be My Neighborhood Welcome Sign? (Pittsburgh Orbit, June 10, 2018)

Automata Transmission: Ken Draim in the Membrane

detail of automata artwork of older sailor onboard ship
Detail from “Unterwasserwelt,” a hand-cranked kinetic artwork created by Pittsburgh artist Ken Draim

The little boat is lifted into the air on a delicate structure of thin poles and wire rigging. You’d swear it was aloft, but for the abstracted waterline letting us know we’re an omniscient third-party able to see the full depth of the craft as it navigates dangerous waters. At the bow is the unmistakable bloodhound jowls of Humphrey Bogart. He’s sporting the exact black hair, thick eyebrows, and three-day stubble we expect. Astern, a fully-coiffed Katherine Hepburn, barely holding in her contempt for the man she’s trusted with her life. A nameplate on the side of the rusty steamship tells us what any classic movie lover already knows—the craft is the African Queen.

large automata sculpture of steam-powered boat from the movie "African Queen"
“African Queen”

Resting on a tabletop, the sculpture is a beautiful objet d’art all on its own. But turn the little crank handle at the side and the whole thing bursts to life. The vessel doesn’t so much rock back and forth, but lurches in the awkward way that passing waves disrupt movement on water, tossing everyone and everything in their way. As this happens, the big engine propeller spins; buoys, bumpers, and trawling nets swing wildly; Bogey and Hepburn’s spring-loaded body parts are given a shake that will require the best chiropractors … if they ever make it to Kinshasa.

wooden sculpture of Humphrey Bogart in the movie "African Queen"
Bogey. “African Queen” (detail)

“It doesn’t have to be super complex to get a magical look,” Ken Draim tells us, “There’s a story to everything and that’s what’s important.”

Draim is the creator of “African Queen”—and many others in its spirit. He’s been building kinetic art—automata—for at least the last dozen years. Draim’s creation of these little moving fantasy worlds follows decades as a painter, sculptor, builder, furniture maker, and tinkerer. We were lucky enough to catch a number of his still-available automatons at his home in Bellevue on the eve of delivery for exhibition.

automata artwork of small fishing boat tossed on sea
“Buoy Tender’

Pretty much everything in Draim’s artwork has been built from scratch—from the internal mechanics to the rusty hulls of tanker ships, cartoon-like motor vehicles, and carved wooden people. Much of the rusted and battered structural elements look like they were salvaged from the real thing but, to paraphrase Dolly Parton, it takes a lot of love to make something look this rundown.

Draim started as a painter—beautiful, dreamlike, cubist-inspired works that look not-unlike light refracted through stained glass—but gradually moved into the third dimension.

“I found an old pachinko machine which I wanted to rebuild into something different,” Draim says of an earlier project, “But with my limited engineering skills I couldn’t make the balls go where I wanted them to.”

“I got into boat-building,” Draim says of the big, table-top-filling fantasy ships he constructed in this period, “From there, it was just one more step to make them move.”

Just one more step. “Mystery Ship”

Let’s be clear: it may indeed be “just” one more step to make a sculpture of a boat move, but that is one big step.

“It takes time to do all this,” Ken Draim tells us, “It can take all day just to make a gear do a thing.”

We believe him! Watching these wood and wire sculptures come to life is magical. We are all naturally drawn to a little boat surfing wild seas right there before us but Draim very intentionally makes all the nuts-and-bolts mechanics of his machines visible. To see a crank turn an axle that holds a gear that works a cam or spins a belt or pushes a pole or squeezes a hose sparks its own how did he do that? curiosity. Like the repetition of train cars rattling across track or those old Pathé films of things getting made, the rhythmic movement of the gearing—and the gentle clicking that comes with it—is soothing and satisfying in ways that never make it to self-help guides.

Un bâtiment très actif. “Rue Lepic”

Ken and his wife, partner, and ace videographer Sara moved to Pittsburgh four years ago after decades of living, creating, and running a gallery in Taos, New Mexico. They had no specific reason to relocate to the Paris of Appalachia besides wanting some more city stuff, a larger potential art market, and an obvious big change in scenery. The Pittsburgh cliché “big city with a small town feel” seems to fit well with the couple’s taste.

Draim’s “10th Street Bridge,” a large piece with unique counter-directional spinning wheels/traffic lanes, was an early response to their new home. Ken and Sara landed first in the South Side flats before purchasing a home in Bellevue. The third floor of the house is now devoted to what Ken describes as “the best studio I’ve ever had.”

Welcome to Pittsburgh. “10th Street Bridge”

Ms. Orbit—our consultant for all things aesthetic and most things marital—was there for our tour. “What’s special about Ken’s work is that each one feels like it has a life of its own,” she says, “The movement is jerky; there is so much humor. Some of the pieces almost feel like they’re going to fall apart.”

“There are a lot of people making cutesy automatons nowadays,” Madame D’Orbit continues, “But they can be boringly unimaginative. Ken’s work makes you wonder ‘Who are these people? What is life like in this world?’ There’s a personality, a story, real quirkiness to each one.”

Motion simple. “The Ocean in a Crate”

That’s about as a good summary of the experience as we could ask for. So welcome to Pittsburgh, Ken and Sara. Unlike what some of the city’s detractors will tell you, hopefully you’ll find it neither boringly unimaginative nor about to fall apart.


Ken Draim currently has a number of available pieces at Exposure Gallery (412 Beaver Street, Sewickley) and one may reach him/see more videos of his other work at his web site, FaceBook page, or one of two YouTube channels.

Ken and Sara Draim holding an automata sculpture
Ken and Sara Draim with “The Bather”

This Way Out: Arrow Collecting, Redux

ghost sign for Bill's bar painted on brick wall
Ghost sign for a ghost tavern, but the arrow’s still there. It was that way to Bill’s, East Vandergrift.

Direction—am I right? Who doesn’t need a little more of it, especially now. The world’s fallen apart, all trust is gone, no one seems to know where they’re going. Someone, anyone—heck, anything—show us the way!

Enter the simple arrow. Yeah, we’ve still got a few of them lodged in the backside, but we love them just the same. The arrow guides us through some of life’s many mysteries with that most basic of graphic forms. It points us clearly this way or that; up, down, and around-the-bend; when we need to start looking and what’s coming up ahead.

old masonry wall with blue arrow with the word "Entrance"
Enter here, below the water line, Wheeling, WV

Four or five years ago, we started collecting great, hand-made arrows painted on walls and plywood boards to direct vehicles toward parking and loading zones, help people locate back entrances, and keep everyone moving the right way. In the resulting story [This Way Out: Arrow Collecting (Aug. 20, 2017)] we waxed on and on about our love for the humble arrow. That description was so complete that we’ll keep the narrative on this sequel short and get you where you’re going.

masonry wall with old painted arrow
J. D’Antonio, that way. Brownsville
exterior of steel mill with directional arrow
Steel mill arrow, Weirton, WV
wide arrow painted on wooden board
Dog-legged/up and over, Homestead
steel door painted with "no parking" and arrow
No parking … but only to right there. Millvale
directional arrow on asphalt layered with a second arrow on top
Double arrow! Monaca
yellow arrow with word "Entrance" painted on it on cinderblock wall
Swooping in for a big entrance, Wheeling, WV
black arrow painted on white cinderblock wall
Down and out in Larimer
long yellow arrow painted on masonry wall
Loooooooong arrow, Burgettstown
red and purple arrow painted on white brick wall
This way to TNT Monster Mechanic, Beaver Falls
multicolor arrow painted on cinderblock wall
Up! Garfield
white arrow painted on masonry wall, overgrown with climbing vines
Overgrown arrow, Squirrel Hill
store entranceway with complex arrow design
Down and around, New Kensington
blue arrow painted on peeling cinderblock wall
Blue arrow, New Kensington
arrow painted on masonry bricks
This way for auto parts, Hill District
arrow with two heads pointed opposite directions and shop hours listed
Take your pick … as long it’s during shop hours, Larimer
black arrow on cracked retail storefront
Arrow simple, East Liberty

Hyde and Chic: Talking Trash with Glendon Hyde

three assemblage artworks by Glendon Hyde made inside boxes with Barbie dolls and recycled toys
Garbage, this ain’t. “The Price is White,” an assemblage triptych made from recycled, discarded, and donated objects in artist Glendon Hyde’s current show at Spinning Plate, “This is Garbage.”

The large swan has its wings spread a full four- or five-feet wide as it rests atop a glass table. Unlike waterfowl one might find in the most idealistic of parks or if you’re just randomly lucky out in nature, this bird is both skeletal and glasslike, brutally jagged, and delicately bedazzled.

The graceful neck of the beautiful creature is an ornamented fantasy of deconstructed costume jewelry, burnt-out micro-bulbs, and little pearly leaves. The bird’s wings are aloft in waves of smoky sunglass lenses as eggs populate the eye sockets of an animal’s skull. Around the body swirls a tumble of shiny red Christmas ornaments.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde made with recycled animal skull, plastic beads, sunglasses, and Christmas ornaments
“Emerge” (detail)

“The show is a love letter to Greta Thunberg,” says artist Glendon Hyde, “At fifteen, she had this myopic determination to do something about the state of the world. I wish we could all manage to find the bravery in ourselves to do something important.”

Hyde is discussing This is Garbage, the first large-scale solo exhibit of his artwork in thirty years. It’s up now through the end of the month at Spinning Plate Gallery. The title is ironic, self-deprecating, but also sadly true. Most people would look at these raw materials–and perhaps even the odd but lovely artworks to emerge from them–as detritus. Don’t make that mistake.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of small baby in fantasy bedding
“Lohan and Child: How to Export White Jesus” (detail)
assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of strange creature in desert-like setting
“Baboon Assed Bush Pig” (detail)

Garbage, this ain’t. But there’s no denying the obvious environmentally-conscious connection here. One hundred percent of the materials making up Hyde’s large freestanding, ceiling-dangling, and wall-hanging sculptures have lived previous lives.

The component parts have been supplied by friends, donated by fans, and left on his doorstep by the in-the-know. They’ve also come mailed-in from far away and picked right out of curbside garbage bins ahead of city collection crews. Nothing in the show, aside from glue, Hyde tells us, was purchased at an arts supply store–or anywhere else for that matter.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde including baby doll, beaded wreath, false flowers, and image of woman behind glass
“Restorations Needed” (detail)
assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of ant on an apple
“Picnic Dilemma” (detail)

While claiming the show was for Ms. Thunberg, another theme keeps spilling out. Emerge is the action word Glendon Hyde uses most in our conversation. That concept comes up early and often throughout the show.

The aforementioned swan is a piece literally titled Emerging and its companion Ugly Duckling rests just across the space. The two creatures appear to be looking back at one another with a knowing hang in there, it gets better silent communication.

Elsewhere, an enormous sequined frog morphs from its tadpole state; a cicada, or Sir Cada, outfitted in something between bondage and biker gear, has sprung from the earth for its once-ever-seventeen-year bender. Babies emerge from the womb; an ant is poised atop a glass apple; jellyfish bob and weave in the boundless surf of a tinfoil sea.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of duck made from string, wire, and plastic bits
“Ugly Duckling” (detail)

In a world–especially one still well within a global pandemic–where everything feels like it’s moved to the Internet, there is an even more subtle touchstone for the exhibit.

“I’ve emerged to be a more stalwart person,” Hyde says of the ugliness around so much of world’s discourse right now. “Current culture is so abrasive I found myself wanting to get away from the arguing. The best thing I can do is play and share that experience with friends.”

Indeed, the show is blessedly free of any video screens; there is nary a #hashtag, @handle, or URL address to be found. Instead, the show is a grand expression of human-hands touching each and every piece, working the materials, wrapping, gluing, and stitching disparate elements into their final reconstructed forms.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of a flying insect made from false flower petals, beads, and jingle bells
“The Buddha Moth” (detail)

Part of the fun of This is Garbage is that each piece warrants a multi-level examination. There’s an establishing first-impression from a few steps back. The viewer sees the overall form and message–often in perilously-precarious balance–its visual language and suggestive humor.

But then you’ve got to get in close–real close–to see the intense level of detail, clever reuse of random materials, and each creative choice in miniature that grows, blossoms, and yes, emerges from its rooted center. This is where your author spent most of his time–looking at all the little beads, the curling folds of movie film, how plastic Internet cables wrap and blend with soft, frayed acrylic yarn.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of head, arms, and torso of a figure
“Don Quixote”
assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde with costume jewelry, glass rabbits, and a model airstream trailer
“Florida Garden” (detail)

Two years of Glendon Hyde’s life went into creating This is Garbage. It took him and a friend four days just to set everything up in the gallery space. (And he lives right upstairs!) That might seem like a long time for a gallery show … until you see this one. It is as dense and eye-popping, stuffed-to-the-rafters and meticulously placed as anything you’ll encounter anytime soon.

Whether the lofty concepts behind Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Hipster Tea Trolley or Thoreau’s Temple translate to gallery visitors is questionable. What’s not is that This is Garbage is a fantastic vision statement from an artist who is singularly endowed with the ability to spin gold from tinfoil, bring life from street debris, and coax spectacular joy from these desperate times.

assemblage artwork by Glendon Hyde of horned animal made from plastic beads
“Hoodoo Guru”

This is Garbage is up at Spinning Plate Gallery, 5821 Baum Blvd. in East Liberty, now through Sept. 30. Gallery hours are Thursday and Friday, 12-6; Saturday 12-7; Sunday 12-3. Hyde is holding a special second opening–let’s call it a re-emergence–this Saturday, Sept. 11, from 6-10.


A final note on the photographs:

It’s safe to say visual art is pretty much always best experienced up-close and in-person. To see the scale, true color, and individual brushstrokes of a painter; how different strands cross, meld, and blur in fiber art; the way sculpture demands to be seen from multiple angles; up close and from a distance. Photographs are excellent long-term documentation for the work, but they just don’t match up to seeing the real thing.

Glendon Hyde’s pieces really need to be seen in person. There’s just no way to photograph most of the work (especially in this particular gallery setting) and have it look like anything–that’s why we chose mostly detail shots. A bunch of really great pieces didn’t make it to this story for that reason alone. Do yourself a favor and get down to Spinning Plate while you can to see this fantastic show the way it needs–nay, deserves–to be seen.

* Special thanks to Paul Schifino for an assist on this story’s title.

Collage Dropout: The Return of The Midnight Montagier

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
A lot to take in on one’s morning commute. One of the Midnight Montagier’s large collages, Bigelow Blvd. pedestrian overpass, 2018

There is a lot going on here. Three bleached-blonde bikini babes take center stage in the strange artwork, but each has her face plastered-over with a large sticker or morphed into freakish skeleton-like distortion. On either side, big colored cartoon-like images have been pulled from a big book, or maybe a glossy calendar, or poster–who knows? Surrounding all this is a riot of other, smaller imagery: faces, sections of classic paintings, pop culture icons, and recycled Hello, my name is identification tags.

The whole thing is probably six feet wide, mounted on cardboard backing, and has been zip-tied to the chain link enclosure on one of Bigleow Blvd.’s two pedestrian overpasses. It is not alone.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018

They appeared all at once, in one glorious technicolor explosion. At least, that seems like what happened.

One day–it was late June, 2018–these protected walkways were surprise-decorated (aka bombed) with more than a dozen giant collages, all in a singular style. Taken as a whole, the jumble of assembled images added up to a distended fever dream of dark cartoons, chopped-up advertisements, random photographs, and belongs-on-a-skateboard sticker art.

Attempting to discern meaning from any particular collage–let alone the installation writ large–is a fool’s errand. Sure, there’s plenty to work with if you really want to impose a theme on a collection of random Manga frames, postal slaps, and Obey stickers–but you’re not doing yourself any favors by wading into that particular murky sea.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018

One after another, attached to both faces of the chain link fence with zip-ties, the eye-popping pieces felt like the magnum opus of an artist (or artists?) who we’re calling The Midnight Montagier. (You know, from the French.)

Weeks, months, maybe years worth of work must have gone into hoarding visual imagery and curating the contents, the cutting-out and gluing-down. All this quiet energy was blasted out to the world–or, at least, the handful of pedestrians who regularly walk the overpass–in one giant salvo, three summers ago.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018

The pieces felt less like an organized statement of purpose and more like a compulsive saver finally admitting I’ve got to do something with all this stuff. There are worse motivations for artistic expression and many lesser attempts at beauty and/or messaging on city infrastructure.

The gift of these carefully created pieces to the few of us who experienced them before either nature or the Department of Public Works decided their time was up was fascinating and much appreciated.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018

With this much creative energy and such obvious dedication to the medium, the person or persons behind the Bigelow installation would have to strike again. Once they got their first taste of anonymous glory and release to the world, there’s no way they wouldn’t want to go back for more … right?

Well, we waited, we watched, and over the last three annums, we’ve trundled down every side street, back alley, bicycle lane, and flight of city steps the city has to offer, always looking, always searching. Days turned to weeks and months turned to years. But alas, that was it. The Midnight Montagier seemed to have saved it all up for a single epic go-down-swingin’ exorcism of every creative demon and each loose bit of visual ephemera to wash up on their desktop.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments hung on chain link fence
Bigelow Blvd. overpass, 2018

… until just last month.

Three years later the Montagier finally struck again! Why we didn’t run a piece on the collages at Bigelow back in 2018 still seems goofy, but perhaps the blogging gods knew there would be more to the story–we just needed to wait through a global coronavirus pandemic (Phase I, sigh) to get there.

Regardless, our old collage buddy returned–and in such dramatic fashion! In a similar kind of overnight secret art drop, new pieces arrived en masse across Lawrenceville’s utility poles, free publication boxes, and at least one mailbox early this August.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to mailbox
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021

It took your author about two seconds to recognize the tell-tale blocky hodge-podge of colorful visual jetsam, this time glued to a utility pole on Butler Street. Other pieces were spotted in quick order–mostly along Butler Street, but also up the hill on Penn.

Several very rainy weeks on, the pieces are still holding up, if sun-faded and with some edge peeling. The style of collage is exactly the same, but the delivery mechanism has shifted ever so slightly. Gone are the big cardboard backings and loose zip-ties. These pieces are smaller, maybe 11×14–sized to curl around roughly a quarter of the big steel traffic signal poles–and glued or wheat-pasted directly to bare metal.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021

To The Midnight Montagier, Thank you for distributing your collections in such an exciting, egg-hunting, head-scratching way. For keeping the spirit of the street alive and coloring the world. For making the morning constitutional a mental exercise as well as physical. If you’d ever like to tell your side of the story, we’d love to connect. Until then, we’ll be looking out for you, at Midnight.

colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021
colorful collage of cartoon images, stickers, advertiments attached to utility pole
Lawrenceville, 2021

Skyline Fine Time: Eight Probably Isn’t Enough

rough painted metal with Pittsburgh skyline and text "City of Champions"
Worlds collide! Sheet metal pole art skyline, Hill District

In the wild hillside that runs between Bigelow Blvd. and The Middle Hill, there is an oasis of street art (err … steps art? tree art?) clustered in the forgotten land around one particular set of city steps. There are sculptures and collages, weird art photos and paintings on wood. Our favorite tin can pole artist has a whole trove of terrific pieces here.

Maybe we’ll do a story on the whole thing at some point, but it was one particular piece, nailed to a utility pole, that caught the attention on this day. In it, the artist has taken a discarded piece of sheet metal and painted a rough but unmistakable black silhouette of the downtown Pittsburgh skyline. There are the spiky towers of PPG and the peaked triangles of The Gulf Tower and Koppers Building. The artwork is inscribed with the simple throwback message City of Champions.

store window display of artist painted iconic buildings of Pittsburgh with light bulbs
Bright lights, big city. AlphaGraphics, Downtown

Mere minutes–OK, it was probably a couple hours–after posting our last trip down skyline way, there it was again. The artist who hand-painted the storefront for the old Yinzers in the Burgh didn’t have a lot of vertical room to work with, but made the most of what s/he did have. In city official black-and-gold–but squashed as if in the footpath on one of Godzilla’s benders–the downtown Pittsburgh skyline is still undeniable.

So, here you go, Pittsburgh: another couple dozen+ graphic renderings of the downtown skyline coming from storefronts and retail signage, community groups and folk art. Like that famous body part/Van Patten, eight of these collections should be more than enough, but this is a gift that just keeps on giving. I’m sure we’ll be back with #9 in the series soon enough.

closed storefront of Yinzers in the Burgh with hand-painted Pittsburgh skyline
Squashed city. Yinzers in the Burgh, Strip District
Turner's Tea van with graphics of the Pittsburgh skyline parked in front of ornate church
Debatable number of “T”s/teas city. Turner’s Iced Tea truck, Bloomfield
box truck with painted with mural including the Pittsburgh skyline and the word "Reggae"
Iriesburgh. The Reggae supply truck, Hill District
mural detail of downtown Pittsburgh buildings with eyes
The city has eyes. Spirit, Lawrenceville
signage for My Dogz on the Run food truck including silhouette of Pittsburgh skyline
Big mouth city. My Dogz on the Run food truck
logo for Pittsburgh Union of Regional Renters including skyline of downtown Pittsburgh against red/black/green colors
Red, black, and green city. PURR: Pittsburgh Union of Regional Renters logo (electronic)
mural on brick wall featuring cartoon-like painting of downtown Pittsburgh
Birds and bee city. LaScola’s Italian Ice and Custard, Highland Park
simple line painting on brick of downtown Pittsburgh buildings and bridge
Simple city. Rolling Pepperoni, Lawrenceville
mural on restaurant's exterior wall showing bridge and downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Bridge city. Rumi Grill, North Oakland
stone hand painted with logo for Ketchup City Creative including silhouette of the Pittsburgh skyline
Condiment city. Ketchup City Creative, Sharpsburg
pickup truck with graphic of downtown Pittsburgh buildings
Clean city. Pittsburgh Downtown Partnership Clean Team
panel truck advertising Rivertown Brewing with silhouette of the downtown Pittsburgh skyline
River city. Rivertowne Brewing truck
logo for Pittsburgh Window Film including downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Sunrise city I. Pittsburgh Window Film
real estate for sale sign including logo with Pittsburgh skyline
Sunrise city II. Aishel Real Estate
logo for Pittsburgh Kids Foundation featuring stylized downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Jagged city. Pittsburgh Kids Foundation, Downtown
window sign for Pulse including abstracted downtown Pittsburgh skyline
8-bit city. Pulse, Garfield
logo for City Collision featuring outline of the Pittsburgh skyline
Outline city. City Collision, Strip District
sign for Pittsburgh Truck & Tow including silhouette of the downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Tow city. Pittsburgh Truck & Tow, Sharpsburg
car with wrap advertising for Pittsburgh Property Remodelers
Gray city. Pittsburgh Property Remodelers car wrap, Stanton Heights
yard sign for Bill Peduto as Pittsburgh city mayor including the downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Shades of a blue city. Peduto for mayor yard sign [Note: not a posthumous endorsement, just reporting here]
window sign for City Grows featuring downtown Pittsburgh buildings as growing grass
Green infrastructure. City Grows, Lawrenceville
sticker with silhouette of downtown Pittsburgh skyline and text "Paris of Appalachia"
Paris of Appalachia sticker (Commonwealth Press)
outline of downtown Pittsburgh skyline spray painted on cement walkway
Graffiti city. Ft. Duquesne Bridge
pro-vote sign taped to street sign
Black-and-gold city. VOTE, Hill District
sticker for "Dabsburgh" including stylized downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Dabsburgh sticker, Bloomfield
vinyl sign for Tessaro's restaurant including stylized downtown Pittsburgh skyline
Flame-grilled city. Tessaro’s, Bloomfield

Beyond the Valley of the Doldrums: The Skunk Hollow Art Walk

paintings made from flattened tin cans nailed to a utility pole
“I’ll tell you what magic is … Love” / “The Hollow.” Unofficial tin can pole art welcome signage for the Skunk Hollow Art Walk.

There is a melancholy to the exhibition: themes of darkness, loneliness, one very literal cry for help. Among the images, you’ll find birds soaring in flight and stretched-out cats, abstractions and twinkling stars–but these are the exception.

If Orbit staff were laying out a catalog for the collection, our cover would feature the image of a single small piece installed on a utility pole. In it, a figure has been cut from a tin can lid and painted a rich spring green. The devil’s horns are bent and rusted and his eyes are cut out to make us believe we can stare right through the back of his cranium. In hand-lettered paint marker is a simple descriptor alluding to exactly that: A Lost Soul.

painting of devil made from cut steel can nailed to utility pole
A lost soul.

Elsewhere, there are instructions to Give yourself to the nite (sic.), a pair of unoccupied dinette seats, our favorite tin can pole artist’s tell-tale devils, martini glasses, hearts, and arrows. The artwork is made from recycled metal bits and bobs, a discarded cutting board, even the door from a standard-issue mailbox.

It is artwork from the trash bin, placed deeply out-of-sight–as if thrown into the void–and likely only ever experienced by fellow lost souls who hear the cryptic pieces whispering from cracks in the wood … or maybe that’s just the way it seems.

rusted painting on tin can nailed to utility pole
“Help me.” Ex-mailbox pole art.
painting on tin can nailed to utility pole
“All here (?) into the night.”

Skunk Hollow, the deep valley that separates Bloomfield from Polish Hill and North Oakland, won’t appear on any regional cultural guides; you’ll not find it featured in glossy magazines or listed among Pittsburgh’s next hottest neighborhoods. In fact, “The Hollow” doesn’t even show up on maps of the city (at least, not by that name). Its derisive title is merely a people’s collective dismissal of the out-of-sight/out-of-mind not-quite-a-real-neighborhood.

There are some good reasons for all this. Skunk Hollow hosts one of the more convenient spots in the city to illegally dump a La-Z-Boy recliner or an old television–plenty of people have chosen to do just that. The handful of businesses located along Neville Street are not what you’d call boutiques–they’re more of the rock-moving, general contracting, and looking-for-new-occupants varieties. Japanese knotweed has completely consumed the steep hillside and makes an effective trap for all of the blown-around street trash as it washes over Bloomfield’s banks.

rusted paintings on tin can nailed to utility pole
“And that nite, we raided the devils. Private stash needless to say.” / “We had a good ole time.”
collage of round-formatted street art attached to utility poles
Pole art in the round

So if the Convention and Visitors Bureau wants to pitch Skunk Hollow as a special place for out-of-towners to explore on their limited time in the ‘Burgh, they’ve got their work cut out for them.

But for those of us waking up ridiculously early, obsessively walking many mental health miles at daybreak, the Hollow is a welcome open air experimental art detour. Its randomly-curated works speak to the solitude of the early hour and themes of escaping into the night, tiny devils playing hell with our synapses, and you are not alone messaging make for a kind of communal balm for the disconnected.

paintings made from flattened tin cans nailed to a utility pole
“Life is good right now … thanks, Mom.”
small painting of camper trailer on wood screwed to utility pole
Camper trailer painting

The Skunk Hollow Art Walk is not what you’d call accessible. There is one big hill, one Y-shaped flight of city steps (we’ll get to those), and a road surface with no accommodation for pedestrians. Worry not, though, it’s unlikely you’ll see any other human beings–with or without vehicles–during the length of your visit. Walking in the street tends to work out just fine when you’re the only one there.

Viewing the environment on foot is an absolute requirement as all the little objets d’art are scaled for up-close examination and located in the kinds of niche spaces one must poke around thoroughly to see at all. One of the photos here (I loved kissing her in the rain, below) was achieved only by climbing up the hillside, bearhugging a utility pole with one arm, and then using the dumb selfie camera so I could get a photo of a tin can painting that I couldn’t actually see from my precarious position.

painting made from flattened tin cans nailed to a utility pole
“I loved kissing her in the rain.”
rusted painting on tin can nailed to utility pole
“Give yourself to the nite.”

For the directionally-challenged, don’t worry about getting lost in Skunk Hollow. There is only one road that traverses the short distance between Bloomfield’s backside and the old Iron City brewery. In typical Pittsburgh fashion, it goes by three different names–Lorigan, Neville, and Sassafras–in its approx. 3/4 mile run.

Most of the art is found along sloping Lorigan Street, from the Ella Street steps down to the bottom of the hill, so a greatest hits visitor could drop in for some tin can pole art and still make it to Tessaro’s for an early dinner. But really, why not go “full Hollow” and walk the length of it. It’s a little more spartan at the bottom, but by the end you’ll be rewarded with some great wheatpaste pieces on the old brewery.

City Steps with graffiti reading "Try" on every riser, Pittsburgh, PA
Ella Street (aka the “Try Try Try”) city steps
metal toy truck screwed into concrete steps
The “Try Try Try” steps metal truck

The last time The Orbit reported from Skunk Hollow we were on the step beat, there to check out the great Ella Street (aka the “Try Try Try”) city steps. We’ll not go over all that here, but this bit of you can do it self-affirmation infrastructure is totally of a piece with the collection of street art that surrounds it.

What’s been added to the steps (since that 2015 story) is its own terrific set of oddball ephemera. The bolted-on scrap parts truck (photo above) is thankfully still there, right at the lowest landing. It’s been joined by a tiny sculpture of simple chairs, placards, handrail ramblings, one repurposed wooden puppet-like thing, and a mystery mailbox.

sculpture of two chairs anchored into public steps
Tiny furniture, big steps
metal piece with text "Dream 1: You had a whole lot of fun with a comedian ..." attached to public steps
“Dream 1: You had a whole lot of fun with a comedian …” Steps koan
graffiti painted support on public steps of waving figure
Art on the “Try Try Try” steps

A fancy art museum, this ain’t–but then again, no one visiting The Carnegie gets to experience the thrill of risking both poison ivy and tetanus in their bloodthirsty pursuit of new tin can pole art. As combined art happening/aerobic workout, Skunk Hollow is hard to beat. Plus, the hours are great and the price is right.

Yes, attendees of the Skunk Hollow Art Walk will have to negotiate some broken glass and a few salty words committed in spray paint on the jersey barriers along the roadside–oh, there’s also that mystery odor. But, like poking through a thrift shop or digging through used records, a visit rewards the patience of the art lover willing to do a little work for a commensurate dose of oddball magic.

handmade masonry gates to Iron Eden, Pittsburgh
The Seussian gates of Iron Eden, Lorigan Street
wooden painted board that used to read "LOVE" with most of the middle section removed
Ouch! There is no middle ground in love. Vestigial cutting board art.
collage of protractors glued to various walls and signs
Yes, there are Pittsburgh protractors in The Hollow
graffiti on pink wall reading "Stuck in the rain for 20 minutes on a 1 year tour of the USA"
If JYK could make Skunk Hollow a part of his American tour, you can walk down the hill from Bloomfield.
metal piece with words "Rusty love" cut out nailed to utility pole
Rusty (and muddy) love

The Over-the-Wall Club: Searching for Wall Quarters

exposed formerly interior wall showing three paint colors in perfect quarters
One of humankind’s most glorious examples of wall quarters. Inside-outside wall, Wellsville, O.

The giant wall holds a lot of history–and likely not a few secrets. Two tall stories high and spanning the full depth of the lot–from the sidewalk on Wellsville’s Main Street all the way back to the service alley–this space did a lot of living. Demolition on the building that used to be here exposed a (former) interior wall that is an archeological treasure our shallow American memory will have to substitute for “real” finds like Sutton Hoo or Tutankhamun’s tomb.

The plaster walls still cling to a rich palette of battered colors. Each room had been painted in an entirely different scheme and what remains are beautiful antique reds, pale yellow-greens, and deep melancholy blues. There are channels on the surface where we see clear outlines of the old building’s load-bearing interior walls, a staircase, plumbing lines, slotted holes in the brickwork for tall floor joists.

With all this, it is one particular section of the wall surface that intrigues more than the rest. In it, we see the intersection of three colors, each scarred, smeared, and pockmarked with age but still brimming with verve. A strong yellow line runs due north-south and gives the whole thing the composition of a modernist painting. Everything exists in perfect right angles.

cinderblock and plaster wall with loose bricks
The wall that started it all. Forest Hills

The obsession with wall quarters began way back in 2015 with a reporting trip to Forest Hills. We were there to commune with the ex-atom smasher and later found ourselves by another, similar, inside-outside lot. Amongst the rubble of felled bricks and illegally-dumped housewares were four squares within a larger square: the right side faded green-blue, the left a dirty white; plaster above, cinderblock below. The section lines could not have been more precise.

It was perfect: balanced and meditative, color, material, and texture arrayed in transcendent harmony. It’s the kind of lightening bolt that may only land once in a generation–heck, once in a lifetime if you’re lucky.

brick and masonry wall sectioned into four colors, Pittsburgh, PA
Strip District

But, wall-watching naifs that we were back then, the hard truth wasn’t fully understood. It seemed obvious that we’d run into more big, glorious, quad-sectioned walls just as soon as the mind was opened to them. Why, once you set the controls for Marys or Steelermobiles or The Dog Police you see them everywhere–wall quarters must be just as easy … right?

brick wall with loose bricks
Bloomfield

Well, you know where this is going. No, it is not easy to locate a perfect wall square–and this poke-down-every-alley and look-inside-any-abandoned-property keister is here as a material witness. Six years later–six years of looking for these things!–and we’ve come up with merely a handful of specimens. A lot of them aren’t even that good!

But if you take the collection we did manage to cobble together and throw in a (good-sized) set of bonus/pseudo-wall squares, we end up with a pretty nice haul. Hopefully they’re as pleasing to Orbit readers’ eyes as they are for staff to deep focus on when we’re destressing in Chez Orbit’s salt cave. Breathe in, breathe out, close our eyes and say it until we believe it: everything is going to be all right.

cinderblock wall sectioned into rough quarters by paint, Pittsburgh, PA
South Side
section of plaster and marble wall divided into four distinct quarters
Millvale
detail of brick wall where different paint layers have made distinct geometric sections
Bloomfield

Row House Rejoinders

I’m not going to lie, The Over-the-Wall Club has some purists who frown on the relatively easy wall quarter pickins found in row house blocks. While it took us half a decade of constant scouring to come up with just the few “real” quarters (above), any Sunday stroll through the South Side Flats or the Mexican War Streets will reward with a bounty of these interfaces between next-door row houses.

With brickwork and foundations in a continuous plane, it just takes neighboring homeowners with different color preferences and a little bit of luck (steps, stoops, porches, and downspouts all get in the way; sloping hillsides break a lot of linear connections) to get really nice, perfectly squared-off intersections.

detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
closeup of bricks meeting foundation of two rowhouses, forming equal square quandrants
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville

No Room for Squares

As with life, things on a wall don’t always line up perfectly. One shouldn’t let that diminish the shear ecstasy of a beautiful mixed-media surface, though. An extra drain pipe here, foundations that don’t line up there–we’re all better off to roll with these as … not imperfections, but rather elements that broaden the depth of the final composition. Ain’t nobody perfect, but a wall with a whole lot of problems sure might come close.

detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of retail storefront where colored glass joints have made distinct geometric shapes
Vandergrift
brick exterior wall of row house painted in multiple sections
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
wall surface with geometric shapes formed by paint colors, siding, drain pipe
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make geometric pattern
Lawrenceville
detail of row houses where paint colors make four perfect squares
Lawrenceville
detail of brick retail storefronts where paint choices have made distinct geometric shapes
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville
detail of painted row house walls and foundation showing distinct square quarters of different shapes and colors
Lawrenceville