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A pair of big feet, size 22 to be exact, has long been my roadblock
to visiting the Motor City.
Let me explain. My favorite basketball player as a kid was Bob
Lanier, an All-Star center in the 1970s for the Detroit Pistons. A
big guy with a soft touch from the outside, Lanier was once asked
about his chief concern about an upcoming home game. His
response—and this is from a guy imposing enough to fill size 22
sneakers—was something to the effect of making it from his car
through the Cobo Arena parking lot without being mugged. Yikes!
Despite this daunting tale, the recent release of David Clements
book, Talking Shops: Detroit Commercial Folk Art, has convinced me
that the Motor City’s many charms outweigh any attendant risks in
touring the metropolis.
In this special issue of the SCA Journal focusing on segregation, it
seems appropriate to feature this photography book. Talking Shops
documents the signage of independent, predominantly Afro-American
businesses in Detroit, a city that has become a poster child for
urban decline. Recent statistics indicate the city is losing 10,000
residents a year, has 12,000 abandoned houses, and 30 percent of the
population lives below the poverty line. Yet among these stark
figures, Clements’ lens has captured an array of exuberant signs
created or commissioned by self-employed owners proud of their
businesses.
Clements, an urban archaeologist, believes, “Even more so than
diners and roadside attractions, the images of America’s changing
commercial landscape are fleeting and should be documented, if not
preserved.” He admirably accomplishes this by focusing on local
businesses such as hair salons, churches, and car washes. SCA
members mesmerized by vintage neon signs will find no such images in
the publication. Paint is more affordable than expensive glass
tubing for these inner-city businesses, often operating with
financial hardships.
These commercial advertisements, usually painted on the building
itself, share many common features with tourist-oriented highway
signs. Each is a homespun marriage of art and commerce. They are
created, according to the articulate foreword written by Wayne State
University English professor Bill Harris, because “….the lure of the
American dream of ownership overshadows the daunting rate of failure
among independent inner-city entrepreneurs. Commercial enterprises
continue to open, declare their existence, and state their dream of
ultimate independence. This is the message that resonates ….even
when the businesses pictured have been stricken from the tax rolls
and the signs are peeling, sun-faded, or weed covered.”
For those who only look to trendy Route 66 for colorful signage,
these inner-city advertisements are an intriguing study because they
are even more cutting edge in their use of color, imagery, humor,
and messages. It’s difficult to pick out a favorite. There’s Hudson
Exterminating proclaiming its existence with a super-sized KO’d rat
next to the message, “Kill Them Dead.” Or the image of a chef BBQing
on a grill next to the Eiffel Tower at the Paris ‘N’ Soul Food
Restaurant. The prize image may go to the guy being shocked while
trying to fix an electrical appliance as he’s admonished by his
wife, “I told you to go to Digital Sales & Service Fool!!” Then
there is the unlikely business pairing such as the Hallelujah Beauty
& Barber Salon and Gospel Records.
My only disappointment with the book is that there’s no accompanying
map showing photo locations. Although addresses are provided for
each business, there is no way to know if the businesses are located
predominantly in one neighborhood or spread throughout the city.
There is no reference to dates either; are the images still extant
or were the photographs snapped years ago?
Although I spied a KFC outlet lurking alongside one of the featured
businesses, the book’s color images paint a hopeful spectacle for
commercial archeologists: a present-day American landscape full of
independent businesses that compose a vibrant folk art. No matter
how hard I look in my hometown, there’s little chance of discovering
a “Mr. Foote Hand Car Wash” or “Yetta Boo’s Boobs & Bunns Hand Car
Wash” or “Home of the Murder Burger Restaurant,” though I consider
myself fortunate with the latter.
Clements urges us all to discover hidden commercial treasures in our
own communities, “….enjoy looking around a little more to discover
unique slices of life and vitality in your own environment.” That
may be so, but I’m still adding Detroit to my travel list.
As a teenager, book review editor Douglas Towne experienced the
many joys of operating his own landscaping company, including the
time his lawn mower was taken for a test drive by jazz trumpeter
Dizzy Gillespie. |
