This is a story of crushing self-imposed pressure, a very accommodating grade school administration and some valuable, experiential design lessons.

I had the privilege to work with Change for Kids - an NYC Charity - in 2011, designing and painting a very large mural as part of the group’s school beautification program. I have never - before or since - had another opportunity to compose something so large or in such an architecturally austere space.

For about two weeks in the early summer, I obsessively tried to figure out how in the world to meet this challenge and why in the world I was being trusted with something so central to the experience of this school community. Looking back, I can still feel the stress in my body. Here are some ‘before’ pictures of the space:

Ultimately, the concept I settled on was simple, graphic, and somewhat geometric. I am still digging for those drawings - but I do remember that I was inspired by the peace lilies in Deigo Rivera murals and the arch shapes all over the room. There were between 4 and 6 of us working on it at any given point. We had about two days to work:

Nearing the end of the weekend, we were feeling ?! But, I couldn’t keep from fixating on those little arch shapes in the landscape. On a draft, they looked small and innocent - a pretty straightforward geometric homage to the beautiful auditorium.

At scale, however, they looked like tombstones.

The best I could figure at that moment was to dress them up - to try to disguise them - so I attempted way to quickly to paint inspirational messages onto their faces. I used gold paint that matched the numbers on the chairs - because tombstones are usually decorated in relief, right? I will let you draw your own conclusions about the wisdom and vision of that wonderful set of decisions:

I think I was too ashamed to take a picture of the full composition with the decked out tombstones. Thankfully I had no illusions of the efficacy of those design choices - but time was up and I had to leave the work like this.

I moved to Chicago in early 2012 and could no longer hop on a train to the Bronx on a weekend to paint. For about 3 years it stayed in the above shape and I had nightmares about it.

The PS73 administration was so kind and patient. I called/emailed a few times asking when an upcoming administrative holiday or open weekend would happen, and was always relieved when the school could not find the time - because I was so wound up that I could not envision a way to make it right, anyway. All the while, they had not touched the mural- had apparently been relatively happy with it and were puzzled by my anxiety.

I finally found a good time to go back in 2014 and wound up spending an additional 2 days working on it solo. The work was physically very challenging- the old textured walls required a few coats of paint and the highest areas were very hard for me to reach. I barely finished.

This wound up being the final product:

In the end, I am pretty happy with the way the whole thing turned out, though it feels a bit stiff. I do like that it teeters on formally reverent - I want the kids who walk through the door to feel like they are being waved at or saluted. Ultimately, I’d like to for it to be structured in an architecturally wise way - with geometry that is strong and bold, and for there to be some playfulness in it as well. Who knows- maybe I can make one more trip back?

Biggest takeaways:

  • Always think about a composition at scale.
  • Always trust your editorial instincts and be willing to abandon choices that seem ‘smart’ if they feel wrong.
  • People like painting murals! With a strong plan, a team of untrained painters can accomplish a lot!
  • Always budget ample extra time for finishing/editorial work.
  • It is OK to stop and change directions in the middle of a project if it is obviously necessary to do so.
  • Our artworks are our babies. We have to take great care of them at least until they are able to stand on their own.