In 2020, we created a layered public art project in Chelsea Square in collaboration with local and regional artists, called Nuestra Mesa (see our blog post here)!
The project was a thematically interconnected series of custom bistro tables arranged in a circle around the central fountain. Each set featured beautiful hand-painted murals reflective of our theme of mourning, reflection, and rebirth.
We worked to create a conceptual framework for the project bringing together these discrete needs: a public art project to bring people together while keeping them safely apart, a participatory project where the participants work remotely, and a project acknowledging the collective trauma of a still-ongoing pandemic, while reminding us all of our resilience.
As we pondered creating a framework for this community art, we had conversations about the issues surfaced by the pandemic. One was the issue of public mourning, and how in the United States, public mourning is often suppressed. With so many Chelsea residents from Latin American cultures that integrate death as a present part of life we sought to use this openness to vulnerability as a foundation. Our research led us to create space for nine murals on nine tables to illustrate the “nine days of mourning” familiar to many cultures as a way to slow down and reflect on this moment in time.
In 2021, circles of marigolds and chalk art bring new life to Nuestra Mesa in celebration of Mother’s Day. Marigolds are the traditional flowers of mourning and celebration in the Dominican Republic tradition used for the Nuestra Mesa project in 2020.
Local artists Amber Torres and Marianne Ramos created chalk art murals inspired by new life, flowers, and Mother’s Day. Marianne spoke with people sitting on the encircling benches and asked what they’d like to see in chalk – the image of a mother and child, came the overwhelming response.
Max Pro wrote out youth-written poetry from Nuestras Palabras, a zine based on the Nuestra Mesa murals created with local teens by Amanda Arsenault. Max wrote each poem radiating out from its respective table, shining bright, in yellow, like marigolds, or the sun they represent.
We encouraged people to take home flowers for their loved ones, themselves, to share, to plant, and to enjoy. A few people came by while we installed. Some of us went out to a local restaurant for Mother’s Day lunch, and upon our return, some more of the marigolds had been taken. By the next day most were gone.