Arabic Inspired Mural Art

Cool - bumped into this article on a street mural artist inspired by Arabic calligraphy and the Qur'an just after I posted about the Arabic writings inscribed upon the Taj Mahal.

The Taj: a Calligraphic Wonder

The black marble lettering that graces the soaring Taj Mahal is a beautiful thing to behold. The Arabic calligraphy, transcribed from the Qur’an, is inscribed in long, swooping, stark black lines - a gorgeous contrast against the serene white marble. I was lucky enough to visit this wonder of the world, and when I did walk the calm grounds to the magnificent structure, the lettering struck me by far as my favorite part - perhaps with the exception of those viciously cute monkeys trawling the grounds.

Calligraphy is a beautiful art form that can be used expressively and beautifully in a mural. Though the Taj’s marble inlay isn’t widely identified as mural, it *is* a gorgeous form of art expressed upon a wall, as many murals can also be defined. The lettering on the Taj provides a profound and beautiful example of words used as art.

Extracting inspiration from the awesome world around us is integral to art-making. In that spirit, the art of the Taj inspires an array of images in my mind – of how murals offer a fantastic opportunity to use lettering expressively and even abstractly of various languages and alphabets.

Mural Scouting: Sperryville, VA

Some friends and I spent a night camping in Shenandoah National Park this past weekend. Saturday was full of hiking, eating, camp fires, smores, beers, and general all round nature merriment. Then Sunday morning we woke up to fog and rain. Plans to fry up a pan of migas for breakfast were quickly dashed in favor of stopping at the first eatery on the road back home. Rambling along the beautiful lush farmland of Route 211, we peeked a welcoming sign hanging from a storefront at the Sperryville Junction - one that surely meant “eatery.” One U-turn and a few hundred feet later, we pulled up to this beautiful mural of blooming colorful flowers.




This mural is painted upon the outside of Rae’s restaurant. It only got better when we spied the dumpster… upon which was depicted a banana-detonating monkey.





The outdoor artscapes are just the beginning of Rae’s creative cozy feel. Step inside to awesome green walls, comfy tables with whacky salt & pepper shakers, and shelves full of odd goods for sale - from zombie masks to jars of honey. And the food lived up to all this visual enticement: Everything – absolutely everything – was amazingly delicious. I recommend the Jamaican black bean soup and the homemade four berry pie.

The Sunday Sketch

Mural Technique: The Quick Lowdown

Included among my artistic and muralistic blog-explorations will be the mechanics of mural-making. An awesome mural is often preceded by an involved and constructive case of pre-mural madness – from architectural considerations to artistic technique. For the first in this series, here is the gloss-over – a quick outline of steps as to how to get a mural on a wall:

• Assess the wall – determine its condition. What type of paint is on it? What is the history of paints used on it? Investigate. Is there mold and mildew? Where is that coming from? Address this issue before painting a mural on the wall.
• Clean the wall – remove dust and oils. The cleaning product you use depends on just how dirty your wall is – anything from water and dish soap to degreaser. Allow to dry completely before applying any paint.
• Apply a primer – This will allow paint to adhere to the wall. I use gesso, which allows for a white surface. If a different color background is necessary, there are plenty of color gessoes available.
• Paint! Best bet is to use good quality acrylic paints. Oils stay wet, and need ventilation to use to maintain a healthy environment. Cheap acrylics do not belnd well, don’t have the pith that good quality ones do. I’ve used Winsor Newton and Golden.
• Seal it up. Make that paint shiny, vibrant and able to stand the years looking polished and sweet. Considerations for type of sealant depend on location of the mural (indoor or outdoor? Moisture-rich area? Etc)

The details of assessing, cleaning, priming, painting and sealing will all be delved into in subsequent blog posts. Till then… happy muraling!

Breaking Waves Streetscape

While painting the Akridge Half St Mural last Friday, I ran into Jazirock, who showed me muralistic sweet spot not 5 blocks away from the milling baseball crowds.







Panels lined the fence at K and 1st SE, with artists were hard at work creating designs. It all comes to a head on July 11 (that’s tomorrow) for a Mural Jam starting at 5 pm. All the artists will be there together finishing up their panels. Seriously awesome work is going on here!

Akridge/Half Street Mural: The Final Product

What 2 days in the sweet sun among baseball crowds and hotdog vendors, buckets of paint and wall produced:

Half St Mural: Day 1

Here's a photo-log of Day One painting the Half St mural:

Bicycle is packed up with mural paintings supplies (which made for a rather wobbly ride to the mural site).


Mixing paints.


The beginnings are coming through. Caren is helping me!


Some details are charcoaled in.


Crowds passing by on their way to the baseball game.


pots of bright colors.


Here's where we stopped for the day. Just a few more details to put in yet...

Mural Scouting: Southwest DC

I glimpsed this swirling sun and tall sprouting sunflower scene while I was over in SW DC yesterday. The designs are painted upon the façade of a school on M St and Delaware Ave. (I believe this is Bowen Elementary School). What I love is the bright color, strong graphics, and empowering words without descending too much into cheesiness. This kind of public art extends respect for kids by giving them art for their world. Who knows… this art may garner subconscious attention that could make differences we will never be able to measure. What I can see just simply as a passerby is the visual flourish it adds to the neighborhood's identity and charm – taking a tall brick building and awakening it with fresh colors. Which is a cool thing.

Today's Mural

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Baltimore!

Spent several days in Baltimore working a conference. Some scenes and sketches:





sitting in the lobby, sketching the bar folk.




eating candy and doodling.




beautiful public art at the Inner




the bain of my past few days.




pretty sight.




conference attendees.




sun is setting bright pink outside the windows of Baltimore's Penn Station.

Oil Painting Class

Tonight was oil class at the Torpedo Factory. We've been painting a beautiful model. This week's painting (which still needs some work)




We've been painting her for a couple weeks. Here is the one I came up with last week; same pose. She is one of those models that is just fun to paint.

Walking/Sketching/Writing

My friend f-oxymoron and I took walk this gorgeous Sunday afternoon, meandering the sidewalks of Eastern Market. He with his notepad, me with a sketch book. Every once in a while, we’d pick something - a building, a person, whatever - and give ourselves 5 minutes. I would sketch away, sharpie in hand. He would develop monologues and stories. And then we’d compare notes.

A good way to spend the afternoon, perfectly complemented by a cold beer and babaganoush at Cafe 8 afterwards!

First stop? The corner of 9th and North Carolina, SE.

The sun shines, waves its hand at the tower - THE TOWER of North Carolina & 9th streets. If you look closely you’ll see braided hair hanging down from the third floor window. A window washing, brick painting errant knight is scaling these walls to resotre her humble abode.

Or maybe there lurks a darker mystery inside this facade? Peep smuggler. International peeps dealer. Nuevo peep. You know the neuvo peep like to hide their braids, pull up their braids, shutter their blinds.

Our Shepard Church, 801 North Carolina Ave SE

“I’m humbled,” he said.

The old woman smiled and gently patted the young man’s upper arm. A moment of silence was observed. It dragged. The silence was molasses floating in the wind. Potential conversation was stuck in the air between them. Finally the young man spoke.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” he said. The old woman smiled.

“He will understand,” she said.

The young man shuffled his feet. He placed his hands inside his khaki pants. Then he removed them.

“I don’t know,” the young main said.

“Why don’t you think about it over the weekend and tell me next Sunday,” the old lady said.

“Ok, I’ll do that,” he said.

The young man turned to walk away. As he turned he felt a hand grab his ass and squeeze. He stopped and turned around.

“Think long and hard about it,” the old woman said.

Third Stop: corner of 7th and C SE

Hear those rocks and stones shuffle across the ground? Yeah? Hundreds of people are kicking up thoughts, scattering solid evidence of capitalistic transgressions, sullying minds swept of poverty.

They move. Oh yeah, and they really move.

“Now I’d like to sell them a thing or two.”

“Man, you too damn old to be messing with that!”

“Shhhhit… you talking about me?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“She don’t even know what she missing.”

“Yeah, you the shit. Uh huh. I’m sure she don’t even know.”

Music dots that the background. Strollers roll. Sales troll.

Fourth Stop: Eastern Market Metro Station

Where are they?

I’m always waiting!

I’m too generous. People stomp over my generosity as if I were a track. Circles. Always circles. Almost circles.

Where are they! If they don’t show up in five minutes I’m leaving. That’s it.

It’s been five minutes and they still aren’t here. A few military military men hit on me. They love blond women. Who am I kidding? They love anything with tits and ass. I just happen to be blond.

Where are they? I’ll give them another five minutes.

Fifth Stop: Another few minutes at the metro station, watching people go down the escalator

I’m the hat man! I’m the hat man, you hear me? Forget the suits, I’m all about individuality. Displaced individuality. And…

Sixth Stop: At a table at Cafe 8 on 8th St SE

There is a blanket of sound surrounding you, but not me. See, this is something you can’t understand, but I’ll try to help.

My hands - they weave a blanket too. It is infinitely varied, generous and capricious. My arthritic fingers occasionally dabble in the youthful spontaneity of ecstatic conversation, but for the most part, I’m too old to waste time describing useless sounds. Yep, my hands weave sound with silence. Choose your words? My threads are thoughts spelled out in the flashing and dancing of my fingers.