For mini-murals, beauty is in the eye of beholder
Detractor’s comment about public art pieces’ aesthetic quality stirs debate on social media
When Todd Romero and his two young sons ride through their East End neighborhood on the way to school or soccer practice, they make a game of picking their favorite mini-murals — the popular artworks painted on traffic control signal boxes across the city.
Romero, a University of Houston history professor, appreciates the lessons mini-murals can offer about significant characters from the area’s past, including Staff Sgt. Macario Garcia, the first Mexican immigrant to receive the U.S. Medal of Honor; and Mason Park founder John P. Mason.
Eight-year-old Alec and 5-yearold Elias, however, love anything colorful and fun. Their hands-on favorite mini-mural depicts the cartoon character Speedy Gonzales, who is the mascot of “Los Bomberos de Houston,” the firemen of Station 20 on Navigation.
Because that one has Spanish language on one side and English on the other, Romero concedes, “It does a nice job of encapsulating the neighborhood.”
As happens with any public art, however, the mini-murals also have detractors.
This week a prominent member of Houston’s fine art community dissed the mini-murals’ aesthetic quality.
“When have you ever looked at a blank electrical box on the street and thought, ‘Gee, I wish someone with moderate artistic skills would paint a toucan on that’?” sniped Rainey Knudson on Glasstire, a website she founded.
Named for sculptures by the contemporary artist Robert Rauschenberg, Glasstire is devoted to Texas visual arts news and criticism aimed mostly at communities of art-schooleducated fine artists, who teach and show their work at museums and galleries.
But last Sunday’s commentary revealed the gulf between that world and a more populist community of more typically self-educated and highly popular street artists, some of whom began their careers painting graffiti.
A vote for invisible
Comparing the minimural program to the “Cow Parade,” a fundraiser that brought dozens of precast cow sculptures to city streets 16 years ago, Knudson suggested that the plain steel boxes are “natural” elements of the urban landscape that should be left “invisible.”
Supporters of the minimurals widely outnumbered naysayers as the debate spread across social media.
Suzanne Tidwill tweeted: “The original @ Glasstire piece was an elitist, ‘art is for rich people’ slur. #Artforall should be for ALL — in a gallery or on a corner.”
Katy resident and realtor Christi Borden said on Facebook that she loves the mini-murals, because they bring color, joy and a sense of pride to neighborhoods while highlighting local talent.
Since Up Art Studio created the mini-mural program two years ago, artists have painted more than 170 of the boxes.
City officials sanctioned the project without designating funds. But early on, several council members, starting with Larry Green of District K, gladly dipped into their districts’ service funds to bring public art to areas that didn’t have any, especially outside Loop 610.
The Houston mayor’s Office of Cultural Affairs, the city department of public works, the Houston Arts Alliance and various management districts have also funded mini-murals, but about 40 percent are privately funded by area businesses.
Up Art Studio’s Noah Quiles, who manages the program with his wife, Elia Quiles, said the point is to give communities a sense of pride, employ artists and help reduce the cost of graffiti abatement. (Taggers generally don’t mess with others’ art.)
Knudson further rankled people by suggesting that painting an electrical box is probably the last thing artists would choose to do if they had their druthers.
Artist Shelbi Nicole has painted 10 mini-murals, all across the city, and she’ll do her 11th Monday. She does not identify as a street artist. She started a design company to create retail interiors and signage a few years ago after she was laid off from a job in logistics with a railroad company.
Nicole considers her mini-murals separate from her commercial enterprise. “They’re my personal art,” she said, “though you do get paid very fairly.”
The program pays artists $750 per box, plus $250 for materials.
The Quileses have received nearly 200 submissions for the next round of 38 city commissions, including proposals from recent immigrants who came to the city as refugees and learned about the project through a community center.
“We were amazed by the quality of these artists, and the potential they have for showing Houston’s multicultural scene,” said Noah Quiles.
He’s proud that the program’s artists receive 40 percent of the budget for each box, compared to the 15 or 20 percent public art projects typically pay. Up Art receives a commission but also pays to prep, prime and clear-coat the boxes, and covers marketing expenses that include maintaining the minimurals. org website and hiring a photographer to document each project.
“We do all of the heavy lifting,” Quiles said. “All they have to do is show up and paint.”
The mini-mural program shows no signs of slowing. And there’s potential for many, many more mini-murals: About 2,400 of the boxes are scattered across the metro area.
Willie on 34th Street
Real estate developer Chris Hotze commissioned one of the newest minimurals after he saw — and admired — the painted boxes near Hobby Airport.
He sought out Up Art to help get a traffic signal control box painted near his new development at the corner of 34th Street and Ella Boulevard. He wanted an image of an iconic Texas musician because the new retail center’s name — 331⁄3 at 34th — alludes to both its address and the idea of a 33 1⁄3 rpm album.
Gelson D. Lemus, whose street name is w3r3on3 (“we are one”), got the job and depicted Willie Nelson against a Texas flag backdrop.
Watching Lemus create the piece with spray paint and a few brushes, Hotze was impressed.
“The talent these guys have is important to share at a level which is germane to their art, and the street,” Hotze said.
He wasn’t sure about it in the beginning, but realizes now that Lemus’ subject was a no-brainer: Who doesn’t like Willie?
“He evokes positive emotions in people of all ages,” Hotze said. “He’s a survivor who just keeps plugging along.”
Hotze said he hired Gensler to design his company’s new retail center and has leased the first space to popular and “artistic” chef Cat Huynh because he wants the development to have a “quality feel” that evokes its setting.
The mini-mural, he reasoned, adds a nice additional layer of art.
Hotze said the community’s response has been so overwhelmingly positive, he’ll likely sponsor more mini-murals. He had not read the Glasstire story.
“I’m not sure what the negatives would be,” he said. “As simple as it may be — just a small box — it’s massive to the neighborhood. I’ve never seen anything we’ve done evoke so much positive emotion.”
Romero, whose young sons also choose favorites among their neighborhood’s numerous largescale murals, has enjoyed the debate. “If nothing else, if people are talking about art, that can’t be too bad,” he said.
Knudson said she’s “wholly in favor” of artists being paid to make work but thinks everyone would be better served if the city gave artists the freedom to come up with their own ideas for ways to beautify the urban environment.
A good artist can do a good job of decorating a utility box — “and some of them are very good,” she said. “But instead of asking artists to decorate humdrum objects that have also included parking meters and garbage trucks, they need to invite artists to suggest other ways to delight and amaze people.”