Memphis mural – Memphis Flyer

Memphians cruising along Cooper Street may have noticed a new, brightly colored mural on the wall of Eclectic Eye. In it, a giant, multi-hued creature carries a smiley face in his outstretched paws. The mural, it turns out, features a Los Angeles-based artist, MrBbaby, who worked at the invitation of the Memphis-based Birdcap, says Robbie Johnson Weinberg, the owner, creator, and manager of Eclectic Eye.

“Michael Roy [Birdcap] is a longtime friend and collaborator,” Weinberg says. “I just consider that his wall. He can do whatever he wants with that.” When the mural maker said he had an artist friend coming through town who wanted to add something to the building, Weinberg’s answer was short and sweet: “Let’s go. Let’s do it.” She adds: “I believe 150 percent in my soul that art is transformative, and I love that I have spaces available for us to experience people from other places.” So to learn more, I spoke with MrBbaby about her new mural at Eclectic Eye, her heritage, and the art of making the unseen and unheard feel welcomed and remembered.

MrBbaby and Chucho at Eclectic Eye in Cooper-Young

MF: How did you find out about this project?

I’m originally from California, but decided to venture off on a road trip to Tennessee. Naturally, I contacted Birdcap, who set this project up for me.

MF: How do you know Birdcap?

I know him through the art world. I was in Miami two years ago for Art Basel, which is when we officially met.

MF: Can you tell me a little bit about yourself and your experience making art?

I’m originally from San Diego. I’ve been painting my entire life — it’s always been the thing I knew I wanted to pursue. I sort of jumped in with blind faith. I did the work without knowing where it would eventually lead, not because I was looking for an outcome but just because I loved to do it so much; there was no stopping me, even if no one ever noticed me. Eventually, my work took me to Los Angeles, where I reside as a full-time artist.

MF: The mural at Eclectic Eye is dazzling. Tell me a little bit about your use of color.

I come from a Latin background. I am Mexican and Puerto Rican. They’re both places that pride themselves in art. It’s hard to be in Mexico without seeing art everywhere you turn. I have always been drawn to the vibrant colors used. I feel like when it comes down to the furniture, the buildings, even the food, there’s a special passion and artistic touch to even the most mundane objects. The culture is one of my biggest inspirations.

MrBbaby

MF: I understand that the character in the mural, Chucho, is a recurring character for you. Can you tell me about them?

Chucho is a piñata. I originally created him to represent the battles of life. Life is often hard and challenging; sometimes it feels like it’s chasing you with a bat waiting to crack you down. Chucho represents hope in the moments when life gives you lemons, when it wants to tear you down just like a piñata. He represents that no matter the battle you face, and how hard it seems in the moment, you can take the power back and take something away from these moments. As uncomfortable as they are, these moments give you growth and they give you an understanding you didn’t have before. Bad things happen to everyone, and it’s how you choose to see them that will eventually determine the story of your life. It’s accepting that life is a rollercoaster, and the battle of good and bad things that have happened or will happen never ends. These moments are inevitable, but you can be a victim or take the strength in knowing that when you are uncomfortable, you are growing in unmeasurable ways.

MF: We’re in an unprecedented global moment — from coronavirus to the protests in support of the Black Lives Matter movement to climate change. What do you think is the role of art in such challenging times?

Originally during quarantine I worked so much, almost as a distraction, but then I hit a dead end. I felt like the moment in time we are in had me questioning my role, and what I am really providing for the community. I have always created artwork that’s inclusive of a lot of different cultural backgrounds. I wanted to keep culture alive; that has always been my goal. I believe art has the power to bring people together or to express an idea without the use of words, making it universal. Art has the ability to transform spaces. Art has the ability to make people who may feel unseen or unheard feel welcomed and remembered, to amplify others’ voices, especially in my mural work. I want to continue to do that for the community.

Memphis has some amazing murals. My favorites are musical: the blink-and-you’ll-miss it “That’s How Strong My Love Is” at Third and Vance; the history of soul in Barboro Alley; “These Arms of Mine” off Lamar; the Soulsville gateway on Bellevue. I love the enthusiastic and pure homemade tributes to our local sports teams too, especially the bootlegged paintings of ill-proportioned tigers and misshapen grizzlies.

These pieces tell a neighborhood’s story: who lived here, what happened, where to find hot wings and cold beer. All stories have conflicts and characters. Some are tragedies, some have happy endings.

Over the past decade or so, a different kind of mural started appearing — still pretty, but inorganic, generic. Follow the line of people waiting to take pictures for Instagram if you want to find one. At least one wall in every city is tattooed with a pair of wings, so tourists can be butterflies and birds while they show their friends back home how much fun they’re having. These murals don’t really tell a story, besides perhaps that someone read a Richard Florida book and was persuaded to put catnip out for the kinds of people they hope to attract. Art doesn’t have to be deep when the alternative is an ugly wall.

Memphis has space for both kinds of murals. Thousands of bare walls, in fact. So there is absolutely no good reason to replace the 89-foot-tall civil rights mural at the corner of South Main and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue. It may seem trivial in the grand scheme of things, but the fact that the possibility has even been considered is yet another milestone in the city’s impressive legacy of finding innovative ways to screw up the easiest wins. I’d like to submit an amendment to the new slogan: “Memphis, Home of Blues, Soul, Rock-and-Roll, and Actually, Y’know, We Didn’t Really Think This Through.”

The mural captivates passersby with a powerful primer of the region’s real story. Local children who visit the area for basketball games and Orpheum field trips can see themselves reflected in the figures depicted, instead of sanitized and whitewashed textbook accounts. Yet people allegedly have complained that the modern family depicted at the bottom, a woman and two children described in The Commercial Appeal as “fatherless” look “sad.” That’s open to interpretation, but why wouldn’t they be sad? They have plenty of reasons not to smile; go to half the population of the city and you’ll find them. Maybe they’re offended to have been presumed fatherless. Maybe they’re just hot.

The city commemorated the 50th anniversary of the MLK assassination three months ago by asking, “Where do we go from here?” Must we return to our regularly scheduled programming so quickly? Black history is Memphis history, and erasing it — in this case, literally — signals an enduring unwillingness to confront the issues still stifling progress. Do we want to spend our bicentennial toasting decades of boneheaded decisions and crippling inequity, or charting a blueprint for creating 200 years of justice?

I’m no art critic, but if a mural makes people uneasy about the state of civil rights in 2018, that’s probably its intent. Painting over a thoughtful and provocative piece of art because some baby boomers didn’t like seeing a tiny “Black Lives Matter” during their novelty trolley ride sends an ugly message to the people who live here. This is reality. If tourists are uncomfortable, they can stroll down to Beale Street for a Big Ass Beer to cleanse their palates before they take selfies in front of a sign that says “Everything Is Fine.”

The city and UrbanArt Commission may swear up and down the motivation for repainting has nothing to do with the inscription, but they’ll need to give a better explanation than what has been provided so far. Historians’ nitpicking about unspecified inaccuracies is weak: We know Union soldiers didn’t wear seafoam and Robert Church’s face wasn’t purple. If the mural wasn’t meant to stay on that wall forever, why was it permanently installed? Why did the artists — Derrick Dent and Michael Roy, aka Birdcap — spend months planning, designing, creating, and installing something only to see it destroyed after two years? What a waste. If there’s another artist lined up and another idea in the works, great. Find another wall and put it there. Let us have nice things — and leave that gorgeous mural alone.

Jen Clarke is an unapologetic Memphian and digital marketing specialist.

Editor’s Note: As the Flyer went to press on Tuesday, Mayor Strickland’s spokesperson, Kyle Veazey, stated that the mayor would not allow the mural to be taken down.