THIS BLOG IS MY CANVAS FOR WRITING ABOUT TOPICS THAT I ENCOUNTER IN sociology and RELIGIOUS STUDIES.

Tuesday, 4 November 2014

Pictures Update

Have been on the road a lot recently with a trip back to campus last week and a race this weekend, so I haven't been able to sit down and write the past week or so.  But I did want to post some great shots that I took of some of the artwork from the neighborhood.  Enjoy!

Artwork by Ozmo (www.ozmo.it)

Artwork by RONE (www.r-o-n-e.com)


This one is crazy because the artist created these faces by chipping away at the wall.


This was the finished project of the wall that I helped Hec1Love paint.


Tuesday, 14 October 2014

How I Almost Died During Research

Part of my study on Wynwood is about street art, street artists, and the world of painting on walls. So when I got the opportunity to paint a wall with one of the longstanding members of the Miami graffiti and street art scene, I jumped at the chance. Hec1 was one of my first interviewees for the project, chatting with me in his backyard for almost two hours a few months ago. At the time, I offered to help him paint whenever he wanted. It would help us both out: he needs help with the high spots and rollers because it’s just so hard physically, and I need some experience with what it’s like to actually paint a wall in the neighborhood.

Well, the day finally came last week on Thursday. Hec has had a wall on N Miami Ave and NE 26th Street for several years now, but he wanted to update it. Up to now, Hec has focused on his Loveism campaign: big murals that creatively display the term in big, crisp letters. His Bob Marley wall (which he co-executed alongside Trek6, another amazing Miami native street artist and graffiti writer) is visible from the I-95 expressway and remains one of the most famous walls in all of Wynwood.

On this wall, though, he wanted to put up a different message. “Love Harder,” he wanted it to say. Big letters.  Solid letters.  Crisp and perfectly executed letters.  “I want it to look like I printed that shit right on the wall,” he told me. Every leg, every corner, every inch would be perfectly measured. It has to be absolutely exact, he said, because if you mess it up even slightly, people will be able to tell from 40ft away.

Hec1Love putting down the tape.  Photo by author.
We got to work by 10am. The plan was to put up painter’s tape to outline the letters and then begin with the first coat of white paint if possible. Every letter took forever, though. 
We had to measure, re-measure, drop a chalk line, 
get it exactly right, make sure that shit is perfect, yo,
pluck the line, add the tape, measure tape 
measure tape did you get that one right 
where did you put the black mark, 
move it an eightofaninchtotheright 
to the lefttotheright. 
Nice.

After getting my instructions, though, I was ready to begin on my own. I put myself into position for a letter and climbed up the ladder for the first time that day. I was standing on the top of the ladder, on the last step before the top. You’re really not supposed to go much higher than maybe 3 steps down, but I had to get up high to be able to reach the top.  

Always follow instructions.
In any case, I had just finished taping or marking or whatever, and I must have pushed off the wall just slightly too much. In any case, the ladder started falling. 

Yes, it was falling.  Away from the wall.  Towards the ground.

I tried to compensate. I gave a little yell. Now the ladder is on its two side legs. I’m still balancing in the air, still trying to compensate for the falling ladder.  Still yelling.  Still balancing.  

It felt like an eternity.

I was probably balancing up there in the air for 2-3 seconds, my whole body weight resting on the two side legs of the ladder. Back and forth, a few inches this way, a few inches that way. Those 2-3 seconds were long enough for me to see everything around me: the people watching me about to die, the height I was about to fall, and the car that I was going to land on. 

I wonder if I’ll dent the roof? Maybe break the windshield? Shatter it to pieces? So much time to think, so much time to daydream my fall.

Hec was sitting in the car taking a break, and I called for him. “HELP ME!” I yelled.

I started falling. Yup, here I go. And there goes the car. I wonder if my insurance will cover this. I wonder if I’ll die or just break some bones. It was such a long time falling that I even had the opportunity to feel embarrassment at the fact that there were people watching me.

Finally, Hec arrived and caught the ladder. I started falling more slowly, ever so slowly, and landed on the roof of the car like a cat.  Maybe like Spiderman.  Not as graceful, but definitely like Spiderman.  I rolled off the windshield and then landed on the ground. Nothing happened to the car, nothing happened to me, and everything (except my dignity) was saved.

Hec and I started laughing uncontrollably from the nerves. “I was sitting there hearing you,” he told me after, “but I was like, no way. No fucking way that this is happening. I’m about to kill a Princeton boy.” It took him forever to get up and out of the car to me because he just couldn’t move. “No fucking way. No fucking way.” We laughed and kept saying “Help me!” over and over. “You’ve never said anything more heartfelt than that in your life,” he laughed.

We had to get out our fear, our anxiety, and our nerves this way. We just kept laughing.

I was freaking out. I really was. I couldn’t believe that this had almost happened. I almost fell on a car with the ladder, almost broke a car, almost broke myself, and all for a free wall with some paint and some research experience. 

It really is a crazy thing to get up there and paint. Several street artists have told me that there is this thrill to doing the dangerous, how it’s exciting to get up there on the ladder to do something like this. You don’t get much mobility up there, you really just have to turn your body 90 degrees and try to paint something beautiful, something compelling, something awesome with that little mobility.  You're at the whims of the elements: wind, rain, people walking, etc.  

And for the most part, you do it for free.

But I was shaken up. I now had a new respect for the ladder. I had a new respect for walls. And I had a new respect for wall artists and muralists. This shit really is dangerous.

Stay on the ground, yo.




Friday, 3 October 2014

Follow me on Instagram

I have been keeping an active Instagram account with pictures from the field.  A lot of it includes the street art of the area, the views from the neighborhood, and interesting things that I see from my daily adventures!

@alfgarciamora

DMJC Crew, from Lima Peru (www.entesypesimo.com)

Monday, 29 September 2014

What I do all day

So what is it, exactly, that you do all day?

I get this question a lot. As an ethnographer, I spend my days walking around, volunteering, observing, and chatting with people of all walks of life. Some days I’m interviewing individuals from the upper echelons of the art world: artists, art collectors, and art dealers that are known across the country—and sometimes across the world. Other days I’m hanging out with the old men who loiter outside the grocery store in the barrio, men who are full of stories and jokes. And some nights, I’m just getting a beer with friends in Wynwood.

All of this—and much more—is part of my research. It’s hard to get a solid understanding of a neighborhood and its changes, but a big part of getting this understanding includes spending a lot of time across a whole range of social worlds. I go through the neighborhood on a daily basis, meeting people from all walks of life.


Art on the gate of one of the residential homes.  Photo by Alfredo García

But a lot of these people wonder: what is it that I actually do? I don’t seem to have a job, but I don’t seem to be worried about money. I say I’m a student doing research in the neighborhood, but I’m not reading or studying for tests. And what trips them up the most? When I tell them that I’m a student at Princeton: a university all the way up in New Jersey. So what the hell are you doing in Miami?

The confusion isn’t just isolated to the people in the neighborhood. My family and my friends also are deeply confused about what the hell I do all day. I hang out, I take pictures, I post on Instagram (follow me! @alfgarciamora), I go on what I call “field trips” to different locations in Miami, I write, and I stress out. But, in the end, they don’t really understand what it is that I do.

An ethnographer’s task is to become immersed in a social world and to write about what s/he finds. This task means that you have to be open for anything and everything that may come your way. You take notes. You memorize things. You remember names. You show up. You show up a lot, actually. And you keep showing up.

And then, at the end of the day, you write all those things down. You type up incredibly detailed notes about where you went, who you spoke with, what your thoughts are, and what you’re thinking. It’s like a really detailed journal, only more nerdy. And these notes serve as your field notes: the play-by-play description of what’s been going on. This, in the end, is your data.

This is the new world of Wynwood: a world where graffiti crews get paid to tag up a building with whatever they desire. This is a world where wall space is now something worth fighting over, where people respect the art they like and tag the ones they disagree with. This is a world full of canvases ready to be filled with art. But this is also a world that is changing rapidly.

So what do I do all day? Here’s a short sample of one of my field notes so you can see. I’ve taken out any identifying markers and any names that I may have written down. This is just one very short snippet of what I do. I hope you enjoy!

Jenny Perez hard at work on another mural.  Photo by Alfredo García

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10 July 2014
Thursday

The four men, all members of one of the most famous graffiti crews in Miami, worked in silence. The headphones in their ears provided musical help for the project, and occasional trips to take a couple puffs from a cigarette provided some of the quiet time needed for inspiration. There was spray paint everywhere. Placing layer over layer, these men worked quickly with beautiful ability. They rarely spoke to each other, and when they did they did it in hushed voices, coming close to each other to chat. They worked for two-and-a-half hours in total with rarely a person walking past the wall. Cars passed, but people didn’t. Nobody said anything to them.


I showed up to the session with respectful carefulness. I had pastelitos and coladas for the guys*. I figured that they could use some food and rocket-fuel caffeine to get through the next few hours. Spray-painting a wall can be hard work. Being so close to the wall means that you inevitably breathe in all the fumes that the spray lets off. Painting a piece that is so large means that you have to constantly walk away from the wall to take a look at the piece from a distance. Reaching every crevice of your tag also means contorting your body into positions that can hurt your back, neck, shoulders, and arms. And if your tag is really big, you have to go up and down the ladder, look at the piece, up and down the ladder again, take a look, have a smoke, up and down the ladder, again and again for the entire time that you’re there.

 
This scene is not unlike the many graff writing sessions that take place around the country every day except for one thing: this session was taking place in broad daylight, from 10am to 12:30pm. In a small lot on a major street in Wynwood, these four men were artfully tagging up the wall of a rubber distribution company. Loaded with their own spray paint cans transported in crates, these men were tagging up a building as part of a commissioned project. They were getting paid to do this. This was their job: to tag up a building in whatever way they saw fit. […]

 
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* Pastelitos are flaky pastries that are usually filled with guava paste, cheese, or ground beef. A colada is a Cuban specialty: the strongest of espressos whipped with an insane amount of sugar, all of which is mixed together into an eye-opening drink that can only be consumed in small quantities.

Friday, 19 September 2014

New Life in Miami

It's been several months since I've last blogged, and a lot has happened since my previous post.  I am now settled in Miami in a neighborhood known as Wynwood.  Formerly the Puerto Rican barrio and garment district of Miami, the area fell into tremendous poverty and violence during the 1980s only to come out again in the early 2000s to become the hottest location in Miami today.  

Many see the neighborhood as the largest street art gallery in the world.  Walls upon walls are covered in massive murals, all of different styles and content.  The lamp posts and fences are covered with stickers, stencils, and throw-ups.  And even the sidewalk is covered with street art.  No corner is left unmarked in this area of Miami.  

Artwork by David Walker (http://www.artofdavidwalker.com)


The project as it stands now seeks to answer a very basic question in a very complicated context.  The question is: how does art contribute to neighborhood change?  Seems simple enough.  We can all imagine the different places in the U.S.--from Bushwick in New York to Wicker Park in Chicago to the Mission District in California--that have had tremendous changes take place because of art and artist communities.  Art is cool, people like cool things, and thus art brings change.

But the context is much more complicated.  Miami is what is considered a "Global City": a term made famous by Columbia professor Saskia Sassen.*  A global city is different from other major metropolitan areas in that it has become a particular location for global financial and corporate activity.  The irony she brings out in her book is fascinating: in a globalizing world, we would think that cities would matter less since companies and corporations can basically reside anywhere they want.  But what has actually happened is that cities have come to matter more because they have become the concentration nodes of global companies.

As a global city, then, Miami is different then Chicago or Los Angeles or Atlanta.  Due to its geography, history, and political economy, Miami has grown into a central node in the global movement of capital.  

With this global movement of capital, however, comes a global movement of people. These people, of course, consume culture along the way.  Those with money need galleries, nightclubs, restaurants, shows, and concerts.  They are not just coming to Miami to work.  They also come to Miami to consume and experience culture.  So in addition to becoming a global node in the movement of capital, Miami has also become a global node in the movement of culture and cultural consumption.  

Artwork by iNO (http://www.ino.net)


So why focus on Wynwood?  Well, it seems as though much of the work on the global city has focused on just that: the city itself.  But what about neighborhoods?  How are the neighborhoods changed in the global city?  How does art and culture contribute to these changes?  A global city is characterized by transience, flow, and hyper-mobility of capital and people.  Neighborhoods are characterized by communitas, permanence, and stability.  But what happens when these two worlds collide?  These are the questions in this dissertation.

I will be spending the next two years in Wynwood talking with residents, visitors, business owners, and a whole host of others in order to write this project.  I will try to keep posting with updates on my blog, but if you'd like to follow me and my work, definitely check out my Instagram account: @alfgarciamora. I am constantly taking pictures in the neighborhood and putting them up there.

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* Sassen, Saskia.  1991.  The Global City: New York, London, Tokyo.  Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Friday, 29 November 2013

What Do US Catholics Think About Abortion?

A few weeks ago, my buddy, Jack Jenkins, wrote a nice piece for Think Progress titled "Why Pope Francis is Polling the World's Catholics."  The bottom line, says Jack, is that the Vatican is a bit disconnected with knowing what the world's largest Catholic populations actually think about matters like contraception, same-sex marriage, divorce, and other touchy matters.  Brazil, for instance, is actually very much in favor of same-sex marriage.  The United States, as well, is pretty in favor of most things that the Vatican denies.

Chatting with Jack about the matter, though, I started thinking about what Catholics in the United States thought about abortion.  I had made a post a few months back about how the different religious denominations responded to a question about gun control in one nationally representative survey.  The survey, the Cooperative Congressional Election Survey (CCES), is run by Stephen Ansolabehere at Harvard University and is sponsored by several other universities.  With around 30,000 respondents every run, the survey is a really great measure of political concerns.

So I checked out the last 3 available years of the CCES--2007, 2008, and 2010--to see how Catholics responded to the following question on abortion:

"Which one of the opinions on this page best agrees with your view on abortion?
-  By law, abortion should never be permitted.
-  The law should permit abortion only in case of rape, incest, or when the woman's life is in danger.
-  The law should permit abortion for reasons other than rape, incest, or danger to the woman's life, but only after the need for the abortion has been clearly established.
-  By law, a woman should always be able to obtain an abortion as a matter of personal choice."

Here's what I got:


An interesting thing: both extremes (the "never" and "always" responses) have increased since 2007.  But overall, the one that has been consistently increasing over the past three years has been the "always" response.  

Just some food for thought.

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Atheist Shoes?

Mark Silk has a really great blog post over at the Religion News Service site that mentions a German brand of shoes called Atheist Shoes.  The shoes are actually pretty "hip": probably the sort of thing you'd find in Williamsburg.  But the soles say different things like "Ich Bin Atheist," or "Darwin Loves."

Funny story is, though, that many Americans were finding that their packages were delayed.  Sometimes, the packages never arrived.

Could the problem be the big ATHEIST package tape on the outside of the box?  Hummm.  Check out Silk's blog post to find out about a little experiment that the German company performed.  Turns out that the ATHEIST tape could be part of the story...