Newhallville Mural Delivers A Message

A crowd descended on Bassett Street in Newhallville, ready with brushes, rollers, and cans and cans of paint. They were there to make art that delivered a simple, powerful message — Black lives matter — by spelling it out on the street for all to see.

The street mural, painted on Saturday, was born of a collaboration among the City of New Haven Department of Arts and Cultural Affairs, Black Lives Matter New Haven, community organizers, and New Haven artist Kwadwo Adae. It was sponsored by contributions from the City of New Haven, Black Lives Matter New Haven, The Arts Council of Greater New Haven, Neighborhood Music School, International Festival of Arts & Ideas, Music Haven, and several private donors.

“It was something Black Lives Matter wanted to do for a while,” said Ala Ochumare, co-founder of Black Lives Matter New Haven. She said that when BLM organizers reached out to the city, they found that ​“the city wanted to do it at the same time.” Officials in the Arts, Culture and Tourism Division and Adae had already been talking about doing a public art project. In one conversation, Adae said, ​“it was inferred that they were looking for an artist to spearhead the project, and I was happy to be involved.”

This is the first mural to come out of the collaboration; a second Black Lives Matter mural on Temple Street is already planned for October. But ​“we knew we wanted to do it in Newhallville first,” said Ochumare. ​“Because it’s for the community. We don’t want another Columbus statue.” On a personal level, ​“this is where I grew up,” said Ochumare. ​“I used to live down this street.”

The sense of community building extended to the painting of the mural itself. It was a way for ​“folks to come out and be a community,” Ochumare said. ​“do some art, sit and talk with one another.”

Adae had prepared for the project by first drawing the outline of the letters on Bassett Street, which he did overnight on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, when traffic was at its quietest.

By 9 a.m. on Saturday, about a dozen volunteers were already at work painting the street.

A pickup truck approached Bassett Street from a side street to the north, and Ochumare waved the truck down to explain that Bassett Street had to be closed for the mural. The driver got out to check it out further, nodding his approval. ​“You can join us if you want,” Ochumare said.

She said the same to a couple kids who were watching from a nearby porch. They took Ochumare up on her invitation. ​“I’m so glad you’re going to paint with us,” Ochumare said to them. ​“Then you can tell people, ​‘I painted that. This is my mural.” She gave the kids masks, showing them how to wear them properly for protection.

Adae was moving up and down the street helping people roll out paint. ​“Just put your backs into it a little bit,” he said to a group of volunteers. When he came by, he took the two kids to a spot on the street that required finer work. He then showed them how the outline he had made on the street worked, and the two kids got down to business both sharpening the line and filling in the space.

Another girl approached with a mask already on. She wanted to paint as well. ​“Let me get you a brush, OK?” Adae said.

The number of volunteers, some of them passerby, began to grow. By 11 a.m. the project had about 25 people in the street.

“I didn’t know what kind of turnout we would get,” Adae said. ​“It’s so nice to see people out here.”

Shirley Lawrence, a resident of the street, longtime activist, and co-chair of the neighborhood’s management team, said she could do ​“a couple strokes.”

“I have the honor of living in front of it,” she said. ​“I think it’s going to be refreshing to come out of the house and see this monument. I think it’ll inspire people to remember that it’s a struggle that we’re going to be in for the rest of our lives — and inspire us to do better.”

Lawrence had been among those collecting signatures in the neighborhood for a petition in support of the project. ​“Before we could finish the sentence about what we wanted to do, they said ​‘give me the pen,’” she said.

By midday the crew of volunteers had finished painting the yellow shapes Adae’s mural plan required. There were two colors to go, but they would have to wait until the first coat of paint was dry. In the meantime, the organizers hosted an open mic of poetry and dance.

Black Lives Matter New Haven Co-Founder Sun Queen brought the crowd together with some protest call and response, followed by positive poetry that rang down the block.

Earl brought African dance moves to the street.

And Isaac delivered words of wisdom.

The yellow paint was now dry, and with plenty of daylight left, a refreshed crew of volunteers got to work painting the second color, which would give the letters of the mural their shape.

With the second color finished, the letters spelling out the message — Black lives matter — were clearly visible as one walked along Bassett Street from Shelton to Dixwell. There was a brief moment of dread and panic at 5 p.m. when a fire engine appeared, siren blaring, on Bassett Street, on the other side of Shelton Avenue. It looked like it might have to continue down Bassett Street, where the paint on the mural was not yet dry. Everyone watched as the fire engine halted, then turned north on Shelton. The mural was still safe.

It remained only for Adae to put the finishing touches on the letters, skating across the now bright yellow street as he rolled out white highlights. The mural was done, with plenty of daylight to spare.

“There’s so much public art right now,” Adae said. ​“So nice to see the city engage it.” Adae’s first mural in New Haven was in 2001, and he recalled getting permission and support for public art to be an extremely arduous process at first. He was pleased that this appeared to be changing. ​“Even in this one year, so many pieces have gone up,” Adae said. ​“I’ve never had the city reach out to artists and engage them in public art projects”; that the city was doing so was ​“a welcome change,” and now there was ​“momentum” to create more.

For Adae, public art was part of public health. ​“When your surroundings are beautified, it changes you,” he said. ​“It’s the same as when your house is clean — it reflects how you feel internally. It could be the difference between having a good day and having a bad day.” Especially during the pandemic, he said, ​“anything that promotes positive health benefits is something we should be a part of.”