Tag: Jamie Harmon

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We Recommend We Saw You

We Saw You: Jamie Harmon

Michael Donahue and Jamie Harmon

We Saw You — a new video series hosted by yours truly — debuts today. For the series, I’ll be visiting interesting Memphians and Mid-Southerners in their homes. Viewers will get to see where and how these people live, as well as their workplaces and, at times, their favorite haunts.

The series begins with a visit with Jamie Harmon, the man in the cap most people know as the owner/operator of the Amurica Photo booths. These are the little trailers stocked with mannequins and all sorts of bizarre props that he brings to parties and other events. 

Harmon also is known for his Memphis Quarantine photo book, compiled from a series of portraits he shot during the pandemic. He took photos of people, most of them behind the windows of their homes, peering into the new normal, as they sheltered in place. 

For this interview, Harmon and I sat on the front porch of his Midtown home over a not-yet-completed jigsaw puzzle as a giant ice cream cone hovered over us.

We then walked through the house, eclectically furnished with art and other possessions. He tells me at one point about an interesting collection — fingernails and toenails in jars.

A trip to his office in Crosstown Concourse was next. This is where he let me know about the postcards with unusual photos he sends friends without letting them know he’s the sender.

Harmon’s life is as interesting as his Amurica rolling photo booths. Check it out.

And God bless Amurica.

Categories
Book Features Books

Jamie Harmon’s “Memphis Quarantine”

Grayson Oberg (Photo: Jamie Harmon)

“The Memphis Quarantine Project started on March 13, 2020,” writes photographer Jamie Harmon in the opening lines of his new book, Memphis Quarantine (Amurica), and noting the date only heightens the new volume’s sense of time travel. By that Friday the 13th, the World Health Organization had declared Covid-19 a pandemic and area schools were transitioning to remote learning or extra time off. With the city’s official lockdown more than a week away, most of us were already radically rethinking our routines — and at that point, many feared contagion from just touching groceries. There was but one suggestion of increased safety: the great outdoors.

And so Harmon hit the streets. “I asked a friend if I could photograph them from outside their home,” he writes. “This led to posting an open invitation on social media and the project quickly grew to over 1,200 dwellings.” Luckily for Memphis and the world, Harmon is a photographer with a keen eye for flashes of character in the moment; his bio says he’s a visual anthropologist, and that’s closer to what he does with a camera. With it, he casts a wide net to capture the culture of Memphis in all its diversity: a multitude of porches, windows, apartments, garages, pets, and various states of parenthood reveal themselves from more or less the same zone — between the inside and the outside.

From only a few yards away or through double-paned glass, the distance is always there, looming in every image. A family crouching on a screened-in porch; young housemates gathered with their instruments just inside the door; a couple represented by two heads framed in separate windows; someone playing a guitar solo in green graduation robes; a porch-sitter obscured by the Memphis Flyer she’s reading, her dog alert. Yet all of them also feature another silent subject: the distance itself.

In each shot, Harmon puts himself into what anthropologists call liminal space, a realm betwixt and between different states of being. The photographer keeps his pandemically correct distance, yet simultaneously peers across it, illuminating those interior safe spaces to which we all retreated. Harmon occasionally keeps his spot flash in the frame, throwing light from just outside the window into the spaces where humans live. These pictures capture both how people defined a safe distance in those dark days, and how they defined the interior space of their bubble.

As Harmon was taking images and posting them on social media, just glimpsing them in a scroll was somehow hopeful, albeit ephemeral. Others first saw these portraits in Memphis magazine, or when exhibited by Crosstown Arts in February. But it takes the more contemplative space of a book in your lap to bring it home: Here was someone seeing all of us, bearing witness, even as we bore witness to the friends and neighbors we saw through Harmon’s work. In pairing strangers with more familiar faces, this book forges an all-embracing, democratic vision of who we were.

Writ large, the expressions lean toward the grim, the anxiety-ridden. They’re not unlike dignified 19th-century portraits where subjects presented themselves before the lens in stillness, with the gravitas of the ages. Yet others defy such seriousness of purpose, determined to keep some fun or beauty to their lives, through funny ears, pets, or mugging for the camera. Or, as with that person wearing a tyrannosaurus rex suit in their living room, through all of the above.

It’s a credit to the inventiveness of both Harmon and his subjects that the book presents hundreds of variations in setting, color, lighting, and mood. Some, like Ben Siler, Andria Brown, or Flyer alum Chris Davis, offer writings from or inspired by the time. But most of these portraits are resolutely anonymous, all of us reduced to that stalwart everyman or everywoman bent on survival. In a nod to the many who agreed to have their portrait published (some didn’t), Harmon lists the 814 folders of images in the order he shot them over two and a half months. They’re not meant to identify the subjects; they’re just another artifact of this anthropologist’s journey, from the outside to the inside in the click of a shutter.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Same City, New Eyes

Back in the days of lockdown (Photo: Jamie Harmon)

To anyone who may have been driving around Memphis last weekend, please accept my sincere apology. I was playing tour guide to my aunt and uncle, who were visiting from North Carolina, and, being somewhat distracted, I made what my sister called some “interesting” driving decisions. So if you saw someone still stopped at a green light, pointing out a particular piece of architecture or a local landmark, that was probably me. I hope I didn’t make you late for an appointment.

Besides being absolutely roasted for my inability to be a somewhat competent distracted driver, the day was a delight. My aunt is from Memphis and my uncle was stationed here when he was in the Army many years ago, so they’re not totally new to the city, but it still felt like a chance to see my hometown with new eyes.

Before I delve into our itinerary, know that I know we barely scratched the surface of any meaningful Memphis to-do list. But I tried to cater to everyone’s personal interests as much as possible.

First, we went to Crosstown Concourse, which my aunt pointed out has been much transformed since its time as a Sears building. Indeed.

We took in the last day of photographer Jamie Harmon’s “Quarantine Portrait” exhibition, and I was struck again by the power of so many faces seen through so many windows and screen doors. Though I had seen many of the portraits before — even written about Harmon’s work while it was still in progress — seeing them all collected was another experience entirely. Though I don’t truly believe we’re fully out of the Covid woods just yet, it brought home how much has changed in the past two years. Often, perhaps as a side effect of my profession, I tend to focus on the seemingly negative changes — the loss of trust, the fragmentation of communities — but I was forced to confront the many ways things are better than they were in April 2020. It was a catharsis to revisit that time from the safety of an art gallery, and with loved ones in the same room. That is a blessing I must endeavor not to take for granted.

While at Crosstown, we stopped at the little reading area, where my nephew enjoyed finding books about dinosaurs. It’s a place I’ve walked past many times but hadn’t taken the time to appreciate. How many such spots must there be in town?

Next, we made our way to Broad Avenue, to give the out-of-towners a chance to peruse some arty knick-knacks and to reward my nephew with some ice cream after his patience with the exhibition. He’s 4 years old, so his tolerance for the gravity of any situation is tenuous at best. My fiancée, who is passionate about the built environment, enjoyed being able to talk about the work done in both locations. My nephew enjoyed a cup of chocolate ice cream and the faux-flower-wearing skeletons at Sugar Ghost Ice Cream and Bubble Tea.

We spent a little bit of time talking about and looking at Summer Avenue, then we hopped back on North Parkway to hustle down to Greenbelt Park by the Mississippi River. It was a sunny, breezy spring day, and there were picnickers, joggers, dog-walkers, pot-smokers, cyclists, and everyone in between enjoying it. There’s something special about being close to the river, and we all felt it. Until I accidentally knocked my nephew off a tree while we were playing some game in which we were both (I think?) territorial spiders locked in bitter combat. Oops. Everyone was okay, though it was decided that perhaps it was time to move on.

We drove through the South Main Arts District, where my uncle used to pick up his contacts. We talked about the trolleys, the changes, the things that had stayed the same. We drove past a busy FedExForum and saw young people popping wheelies on ATVs. We waved as we passed both business and entertainment districts Downtown, and I pointed out a billboard of Ja Morant in the Vitruvian Man pose.

Eventually we made it back to my house to make dinner and play board games, not unlike how we used to spend so much time at my Grannie’s house when I was a child. It was modest, but not without its own magic.

I guess, in many ways, that’s true of Memphis, too.

Categories
Art Art Feature

Waiting by the Window: “Memphis Quarantine” at Crosstown Arts

This photo perfectly encapsulates the feeling of March 2020. (Credit: Jamie Harmon)

On March 13, 2020, Jamie Harmon took a photo of his friends Ryan Azada and Maria Applegate peering from behind a screen door. When he posted the photo to Instagram, he asked if others would be interested in participating in this new project of documenting families inside their homes from the outside looking in. It was the beginning of the lockdown period of the pandemic, when naiveté told us that this coronavirus would pass soon enough, that a new hobby, project, or binge-watch would keep us sane in the meantime.

“I was thinking it was only going to be a two-week project,” Harmon says. “Over that two weeks, I had over a hundred people texting me and messaging me [to sign up].” Soon enough, word of the project spread in newspapers and even on CBS Sunday Morning. “I started getting more diverse kinds of people and locations once it left social media.”

Barbara Schroeder poses as a T-rex. (Credit: Jamie Harmon)

Over the two-and-a-half-month course of this project, Harmon photographed more than 1,200 residents at over 800 homes across the Greater Memphis area, as far out as Millington, Mumford, and even Hernando. Each participant received a weblink with edited photos that they could download, free of charge.

“This was just something we were doing because we had nothing else to do and it felt like something good to do,” Harmon says. “A lot of people were dealing with stuff, and I had one singular focus and that made it easier for me because I was doing what I loved to do anyway.”

Self portrait of the artist (Credit: Jamie Harmon)

Each shoot took around 15 minutes, so Harmon could visit as many homes as possible in a day. During the sessions, Harmon, geared with only one light and one camera, shot three locations at every house, letting the family pick one of the spots while he chose the others. With the photographer outside and his subjects inside their homes, the two parties communicated via phone. “Everything’s a collaboration,” Harmon says. “I wanted the families to be involved; I wanted the kids to have ideas. … A lot of the times the parents were like, ‘I don’t have a creative bone in my body; I’ll just do whatever you want,’ and then you start telling them what to do and then they start having ideas and they chime in.

“Everybody was excited that something was happening,” Harmon continues. “It was something to break up the day.” Despite this excitement spurred in these 15 minutes, Harmon would make sure to have his subjects try on a stoic face for at least a few of the photos — the photos that would later make up his current exhibition.

“It’s almost a joke because when somebody tells you to have no expression, generally you start laughing,” Harmon says. “So even though it looks pretty somber, it’s a very different experience.” Yet these opposing emotions that wavered between concern and relief, boredom and excitement, reflected the rollercoaster of quarantine, for even on days when we celebrated birthdays or cheered on virtual graduation ceremonies, Harmon says, “Definitely in the middle of the night, I think we all felt a little panicked.”

But as much as this project was a comfort for Harmon, the project was also a comfort to its participants, who felt like they were a part of something larger than themselves, a part of a bigger picture. Harmon says, “I think a lot of the people who signed up saw it as something I didn’t notice at the time, which is two years later there’s an exhibit up.”

The exhibit will remain on display at Crosstown Arts until April 10th, with a closing reception on April 10th at 3-5 p.m. A book of the photos seen in the exhibition is available for pre-order at memphisquarantine.com.

“Memphis Quarantine” is on view at Crosstown Arts. (Credit: Jamie Harmon)
Categories
Film Features Film/TV

A Conversation With Jamie Harmon

When the COVID-19 pandemic exploded in March 2020, photographer Jamie Harmon set out to document the unique moment by taking portraits of Memphians in their homes. Now, the Memphis Quarantine project is a massive new photography exhibition at the Crosstown Arts gallery.

I spoke with Harmon about his work, his history in Memphis, and the weight of bearing witness to history for WKNO-TV. “In Conversation With Jamie Harmon” will air on April 8, 2022 — but since that’s the same weekend the exhibit will be closing, WKNO has made the full interview available on its YouTube channel. You can watch the entire interview below, and check out the exhibit for free inside Crosstown Concourse.

Categories
Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Music Video Week: Junior

Music Video Week continues with a very special episode.

Photographer Jamie Harmon has put a face on Memphis’ COVID-19 response with his quarantine portraits. His often haunting images have made appearances on CBS News Sunday Morning and the cover of Memphis Magazine.

Junior is a band from Missoula, Montana which counts Harmon’s sister-in-law Carolyn Keys as a member. They asked their locked-down friends to sing along to the first single from their album Warm Buildings. Editor Marshall Granger created this video for “Goddamnit” by combining the clips with Harmon’s Quarantine Portraits. It captures the mood of our time perfectly.

Music Video Week: Junior

Stay tuned for more Music Video Week! 

Categories
Art Art Feature

Jamie Harmon’s “Quarantine Portrait” Series

CREDIT: Jamie Harmon

Photographer Jamie Harmon beats the empty streets of a quarantined Memphis — keeping, of course, a good ten feet between himself and anyone he does happen to come across. On March 23rd, Mayor Jim Strickland announced the Safer at Home Initiative in response to the exponential spread of the novel coronavirus COVID-19, making official the soft quarantine many Memphians had already adopted.

Jamie Harmon

Phil Darius Wallace and family

In the Bluff City, where gatherings are a way of life, taken for granted, Harmon, camera in hand, sets out to document the new normal. With his “Quarantine Portrait” series, he’s — with permission — peeking through windows, into Memphians’ lives, and capturing a slice of what life looks like under lockdown. The series is understandably somber at times, but the images resonate with an undeniable sense of hope. Perhaps paradoxically, there is something inherently community-minded in these photographs of isolated individuals. Many of these photos were taken before Mayor Strickland’s Safer at Home order went into effect, and long before Tennessee Governor Bill Lee or President Donald Trump even suggested that the current health crisis might, indeed, be more serious than originally forecasted. As such, the “Quarantine Portrait” showcases Memphians self-isolating in an act of solidarity — stepping up to fill the void of leadership with individual sacrifice.

Jamie Harmon

Jamie Harmon

By day, Harmon is the owner/operator of Amurica Photo and the shared art manager at Crosstown Arts in Crosstown Concourse, the newly repurposed and remodeled Sears building.

“Because I was working 40 hours a week inside of a building, I was not as mobile as I wanted to be. I adapted something I could do where I was,” Harmon says of his “Complementary Objects” series, in which he juxtaposes, 1980s-style, a seemingly incongruous object floating ghost-like next to the smiling face of some Memphis personage. The series is lighthearted, goofy even, and Harmon’s 180-degree pivot to his series of self-isolated individuals speaks to his wide range as an artist.

“Luckily my kids are older. One thing I’m seeing is there are so many people stuck at home with younger kids or people with disabilities that had a routine. Now their routines are broken, and routines are pretty important to a lot of people. My routines have always been pretty adaptable or chaotic or whatever you want to call it. The routine of chaos is fine with me,” Harmon says.

The photographer hopes his brief visits to people’s homes can help break the oppressive monotony of a seemingly endless day, stretching on without distractions from the outside world. “The people who are sitting at home wondering what to do and maybe have little kids, this breaks that day up,” Harmon adds.

Jamie Harmon

Karen Mulford, Oz, Alex da Ponte

“It’s hard to explain to a two-year-old ‘why’ and the concept of ‘temporary,’” says notable Memphis singer/songwriter Alex da Ponte, admitting that her son Oz’s struggles to comprehend the quarantine can be challenging. “He doesn’t understand why we suddenly can’t go to the zoo or go see his grandparents or play at the park,” da Ponte says. “It’s a big part of his world that is suddenly off limits. We bought a couple bags of sand and made him a sandbox with his kiddie pool in the backyard. Little things like that have helped.”

Doubtless, Harmon’s visit was a welcome distraction; Oz, who will turn three in June, can be seen hamming it up with a big smile in some photos in the series. In others, he is either dutifully ignoring the thin, bearded stranger with a mobile light setup and a telephoto lens, or is digging into the role of studious toddler, coached by his mothers, staring at an open coloring book.

Jamie Harmon

Michael Weinberg, Robbie Johnson Weinberg, and kids

“We were empty nesters. We had two college kids come home and we’re living in a way we never thought we would again,” says Robbie Johnson Weinberg, the owner, creator, and longtime manager of Eclectic Eye. “We’re just living in this weird, unknown space.”

Weinberg says that, with uncertainties mounting — about her business and their employees, about her kids’ education and careers — the family has had to adapt. They’ve been creative, though, and have introduced a safe word into the family lexicon. Now, when talk of the nebulous future gets too dire, anyone can, with a shout of “cactus,” compel the family to change the subject and find a way out of prickly territory.

Jamie Harmon

Georgene Boksich-Cachola, Sal Cachola

For Harmon, one of the most exciting aspects of the series has been the ideas his quarantined subjects bring to the venture. “In the past it’s like ‘No, you can’t get on the roof,’ and now, ‘If we’re ever going to get on the roof, this is the perfect time for it.’”

Indeed, the series documents people posing with their pets, clambering onto the roof, thrusting their arms through screen doors like zombies in a Romero movie.
Jamie Harmon

Tamera and Ty Boyland

“It allows people to get out of that shell,” Harmon says. “It’s kind of nice that everybody feels like they gave something to it.”

“I think it’s truly just a gift in these weird times,” Weinberg says. “To have someone like Jamie come and remind us that we’re a family first is beyond lovely. There’s good stuff here, just in being together. The fear of isolation is almost paralyzing until you realize there’s some gift in the middle of it.”

Jamie Harmon

Catrina Guttery, Patrick Francis

“My mom was worried from the get go about being quarantined and not able to work, and I really thought she was just being paranoid. And now here we are,” says Alex da Ponte. “As of yesterday, I haven’t left the house for two weeks.” Da Ponte is hardly an outlier; to many, the new self-isolation precautions did seem like paranoia. Even as news from Italy and China drove home the severity of the problem, as the World Health Organization classified the coronavirus as a bona fide pandemic, America’s national, state, and local governments adopted different, often contradictory stances. For many, the uncertainty alone is enough to spark a spiral of worry and fear. No one seems sure when this will end — or what the world will look like when we emerge from our homes.

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“The rules have changed. You can’t go to restaurants. You can’t go to clubs or big parties, even outdoor festivals. All that’s off the table. So everyone’s walking around their neighborhoods,” Harmon says of the change he’s seen. “We walk around the neighborhood and we all talk to each other on our porches. It’s that funny ideal of America as how it used to be. Now, granted, how it used to be for people who had privilege. At times like this, there are probably people who are worried about losing their homes, not so worried about having a picture made.”

Jamie Harmon

Maritza Dávila-Irizarry, Jon W. Sparks

“No matter what we do, this is a collective experience,” Weinberg says, articulating the truth made apparent by this health crisis and Harmon’s series. COVID-19, coming in the wake of one of the most divisive moments in recent memory, and attacking without regard to age, party affiliation, or other arbitrary qualifiers, highlights simple truths: A community is only as strong as its most vulnerable members; the lines we draw to divide us often do far more harm than good. Harmon’s series makes that plain — the houses, duplexes, and apartment buildings represented are from various neighborhoods and income brackets. Harmon’s lens captures esteemed members of the community (Congressman Steve Cohen and Shelby County Commissioner Tami Sawyer, for starters) alongside now-out-of-work service industry folk. Straight, LGBTQ, black, white, Latinx, young, and old — all members of the Memphis community, all willing to sacrifice their own desires for mobility for the greater good.

Jamie Harmon

Chris McCoy, Laura Jean Hocking

“People taking this seriously is absolutely a form of solidarity in our society. A lot of people who are staying home are doing so not because they think their bodies can’t handle the virus but because they are recognizing that it’s not about that,” da Ponte continues, admitting that she worries about her son’s grandparents staying safe. “I’m not worried about us, but we’re the carriers, and we have to watch out for our parents and our grandparents and our compromised friends,” Harmon says.

Jamie Harmon

Billie Worley, Pat Mitchell

“Everyone’s adapting in their own way,” Harmon says. Da Ponte’s wife, Karen Mulford, adds, “I wonder if people will view social interactions in a new light. Will we hug and handshake with new appreciation? Or will we shy away from it, a lingering scar from this pandemic? I imagine people could go either way.”

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Perhaps this pandemic and our response to it will, like a fever burning off infection, help a nation infatuated with the ideal of rugged individualism accept that the world is interconnected, and only growing more so. After the cloud of coronavirus passes, whether we return with gusto to hugs and handshakes, or grasp a new greeting, there is hope that, however we greet each other, it will be with the warmth of family.


Categories
Music Music Blog

Elton John: The Rocket Man’s Final Launch Lifts Fans Into Stratosphere

CREDIT: Jamie Harmon

Jamie Harmon

Elton John

The atmosphere on Beale Street was more carnivalesque than usual last night, as Elton John fans filed into the FedExForum to catch Memphis’ last glimpse of the storied entertainer. That the show happened the night before Halloween was entirely fitting, with many fans paying homage to the glam-master’s wardrobes of yore. But along with the glittery trappings and finery, it was a powerful measure of just how dearly Memphis fans hold his music to their hearts.

Looking stout but far more spry than most 72-year-olds in his rhinestone-bedecked tux, John commanded the proceedings from a grand piano, stage right, as the band, featuring players dating back to his 70s tours, spread out on a multi-level stage set below a gigantic Jumbotron screen. All was framed by a gold-bricked, medallion-festooned proscenium topped with the tour’s motto: “Farewell Yellow Brick Road.” This is John’s final series of performances.

Later in the show, after a rousing performance of “Sad Songs (Say So Much),” John addressed the bittersweet context of the show directly. “This is my 50th year of touring. I couldn’t have imagined a farewell tour even 10 years ago, but 10 years ago, I didn’t have a family. Now I do.

“The greatest thing is to get a reaction from another human being,” he went on. “Thank you, Memphis, Tennessee. You’re in my soul, you’re in my heart.”

Judging from the ecstatic reaction from the crowd, John was clearly in their hearts as well. They also responded to a very personal moment between songs, when he frankly described his battles with addiction. “Ask for help!” was his advice to substance abusers. “Don’t sit on the pity pot.” After he himself asked for help, he noted, “I got sober.” At that, the crowd went wild with cheers and applause. It was a remarkable moment.

With a Jumbotron screen displaying either close-ups of the band, or pre-edited montages of images, videos, and animations, one sometimes forgot to look at the actual humans on stage. Then, a thumping sub-woofer boom from the kick drum or synthesizer would snap you back to reality. But percussionist Ray Cooper, who first toured with John in 1974, gave the Jumbotron a run for its money with his theatrical skins- and gong-pounding. This was most entertaining when the rest of the band left the stage, leaving only Cooper and John to perform the epic “Indian Sunset.”

Introducing the tune, John described writing songs with longtime collaborator Bernie Taupin. Upon first seeing some freshly-written lyrics, John noted, “a little movie appears in my mind. Then I put my hands on the piano.” Taupin’s lyrics for “Indian Sunset,” he said, “were five and a half pages long.” The grandiose, three-part suite was the result.

The power and proficiency of the band shone on a parade of both hits and, like the aforementioned tune, deep cuts. Some of the greatest rave-ups came in the extended outro jams to “Rocket Man” and “Levon.” On the latter, John revealed how powerful and precise his voice still is, even if his classic falsetto had to be carried by other singers in the band. And, with a nod to his stage histrionics of yore, he rose out of his seat to pound the keys at the climax of “Philadelphia Freedom.” 

After the encore concluded with “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” which John performed in a silk dressing robe decorated with cats, he tossed off his outer garment to reveal a track suit beneath. Climbing onto an automated ski-lift-like platform, he waved to adoring fans as he was lifted up into an opening in the video screen, seeming to retreat into his own fantasy and the fantasies of the Memphians who have marked their lives with his music.

See the slideshow by Jamie Harmon, below. [slideshow-1]

Categories
News News Blog

Crosstown Arts Opens Membership-Based Co-Work Space for Artists

CREDIT: Crosstown Arts

Crosstown Arts

A musician works in the sound lab

A new membership-based shared art work space is now open in Crosstown Concourse.

The Crosstown Arts’ Shared Art Making Facility, located on the ground floor of the building, is like a gym for artists, officials with Crosstown Arts said Wednesday. The idea is to offer art-making equipment and software to the public that they may not have the financial resources to purchase or space to house.

Kasey Price, a tech at the facility, said the space is for anyone with a passion for art.

Crosstown Arts

Work in the woodshop

“Shared Art Making is a place for people to work on creative projects and for those who need access to professional equipment,” Price said. “It’s really for anyone who has passion and focus about their art, whether it’s composing a beat or laser-etching a coffee mug.”

The shared work space has equipment for digital arts, music production, woodworking, printmaking, photography, and other art forms. The digital lab houses seven iMac stations, all with the full Adobe software suite, large-format printers, a laser cutter, vinyl cutter, and industrial sewing machine. The wood shop includes a CNC router for precision cutting, power tools, work tables, and common hand tools.

There’s also a sound lab with private work spaces and equipment for music recording, as well as editing bays and equipment for video work. A silkscreen studio provides tools to create and screen-print images for projects like, T-shirts and graphic posters.

Crosstown Arts

Artist working in the space’s sound lab

“We’ve seen artists use the equipment in a lot of fun ways — a rabbit house, laser-etching images into a banana peel, a vinyl chicken woman, and drawer partitions,” Jamie Harmon, Shared Art Making manager, said.

Memberships are $80 per month, if paid on a month-to-month basis, and $75 per month with an annual membership. Members can be artists of any skill level, but must be 18 years or older.

The facility will also allow members to host classes for the public in their area of expertise.


The studio is open Tuesday through Thursday, 10 a.m.-10 p.m; Friday, 10 a.m.-8 p.m.; Saturday, 10 a.m.-6 p.m.; and Sunday, noon-6 p.m.

See more of the space below. 

Categories
Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Inaugurate The Resistance at Crosstown Arts

On January 20, 2017, Trump took office. The next day, January 21, was the biggest protest march in history.

Memphis filmmaker Joann Self Selvidge was in Washington D.C. for the Women’s March that day. Now, along with her partner from The Keepers documentary Sara Kaye Larson, photojournalist Yolanda M. James, and Amurica photographer Jamie Harmon, Selvidge has created a unique art and film exhibit dedicated to the legacy of the Woman’s March and the urgency of keeping the movement going.

Inaugurate The Resistance will open tomorrow night, Friday, May 5, at Crosstown Arts. People are encouraged to bring their own signs from that or any other march to display on the exhibit’s Community Wall. The centerpiece of the show will be a “visual tunnel”, with video and images from the march projected into the 3D space to simulate the experience of marching with the huge crowds. You can also share your stories of resistance with the filmmakers in short interviews conducted from 5-6 PM on Friday and Monday and 11-2 on Saturday.

For more information, visit the show’s website.