CONTRIBUTED PHOTOS
Graffiti done in France by Nicholas Williams.
Andrea Downer, Gleaner Write
People in Kingston's inner-city communities often find unconventional ways of expressing themselves. In those cramped communities, life spills over into the streets. It is on the streets that love is sometimes nurtured and disputes are settled, often with deadly consequences.
The grief is not hidden in the inner-city women; and women weep openly for their loved ones who are snatched from them, usually by bullets. While in other parts of society, the dead are buried and sometimes forgotten not so in the inner city. Their dead remain on the 'corners' looming larger than life,
celebrating every milestone
with them. Their clothing
change every year when the communities get annual facelifts, reflecting current fashion.
community walls
Walls in those communities are not to mark territories or keep neighbours out. Many times, they are the only bright sparks in what would otherwise be dull and depressing environments replete with crumbling buildings, many of which should not be occupied. For the artists, the walls are their easels. In some communities, the paintings are a soothing balm, places to escape from the general conditions of the area. For others, the walls are miniature cemeteries on which the obituaries of their loved ones are emblazoned in vibrant colours, honouring and remembering the dead.
Although the portraits of
popular reggae artistes who are still living are also on the walls, on every street the faces of men and women that have died stare back at you faces that comfort some, while for others, they just prolong their grief.
Nicholas Williams, who is known as 'Bones' in Greenwich Farm, the community where he has lived for almost 30 years, said it is an ancient and bloody feud among communities that borders each other, which keeps his paint-brush busy.
"People die in these communities very regularly due to gang violence I paint a portrait of someone who has been killed basically every two months," he said.
Bones was standing in front of a portrait of Shana Palmer, a teenage girl who was shot and killed when gunmen opened fire upon a group of children attending a birthday party in Greenwich Farm four years ago. Her portrait is on the wall of the house where she used to live, the wall frames the yard in which the children were when they were shot at.
bring back memories
Leonie, a middle-aged woman sporting locks, sat in a small shop a few feet away from the portrait; she is the dead girl's cousin. Her three-year-old grandson was one of the young children who were injured in the drive-by shooting. Her face twisted as she gazed at the portrait, declaring that all it takes is a glimpse of the painting for the memories of the night to come rushing back.
"I did not want it to put up there, because it brings back memories.
Everyday mi see har it reminds me of that awful night. Her
mother wanted it up, but even she cries whenever she sees it."
Shana's father reacted the same way. He said when it was just painted it did not affect him but now it makes him sad sometimes when he sees it.
But the portraits have the opposite effect on Bones. He knows all the people who are killed and whose portraits he paints in his community and he said it is his catharsis. He said painting their portraits is his way of paying
tribute to them.
For some youths in Hannah Town, the portraits of four of their friends, one of whom was killed overseas, help to keep their memories alive. There was a
spirited debate about when each of the youths Rampy, Barry Maze, Touchie Brown and Bush had been killed, but they all agreed on one thing.
"Di yout' dem dead an' wi miss them, wi haffi have a picture fi look pon," one of them stated.
The young men explained that every year close to Christmas, the portraits are repainted when the 'corners' gets its annual facelift, and they paint new clothes on them, depending on what is in style!
"The LA Lakers vest whey one of them have on, neva in style when him dead, but we haffi meck them beat wha a wear right now," they explained.
They said the name brand jerseys that the men in the picture were wearing were replicas of jerseys that they had in their closets.
"A we take them out and hold them up fi di artist paint them," they explained.
While the works of the artists are outstanding and will cause people to stop and stare, very few of the artists manage to make a decent living from practising their art in the inner-city. Most of them have no formal training, just raw talent.
Dennis Lewis, who does artwork in Hannah Town said he does not charge to do work in his area, he only asks for a contribution. He describes himself as a 'self-taught' artist and said he does artwork anywhere in Kingston.
Bones on the other hand, says he studied art up to fifth form at one of Kingston's high schools. However, he says due to escalating gang violence, he only does artwork in Greenwich Farm.
avoid teritories
"I used to do painting in other communities, but since the war get worse and more people start get killed, I stay in my community," he said. "People in other communities still ask me to come and paint portraits for them, but I refuse, I know that they might not do me anything because I am an artist, but when mi see who dem kill - innocent people, mi 'fraid."
Bones, artwork is distinctive, and it is probably this quality that caused a cultural group from France to notice his work last year. He said the group paid him to visit France last year where he spent a month transforming an alley in that country into a replica of a street in downtown Kingston.
He reproduced the zinc fences, the posters on the light posts, the corner shops, the portraits of reggae artists and familiar Jamaican brands such as Red Stripe and Geddes. He said he is due to return to France later this year for a similar project.
Despite the fact that he practised his craft for three decades, Bones says it was his visit to France that made him realise that his work is something worthwhile.
"All the while I was just painting an' neva think nothing of it, a when mi go a France mi start teck it seriously," he stated.
