Art under bridges

When I first moved to North York, specifically the Keele and Wilson area, three years ago, it took me a while to get used to my new surroundings. One day, on the squished bus ride along Wilson, my eye caught something vivid and bright as we headed towards the subway station. And, although it took me a few trips to fully capture what that medley of blues, reds, and greens made up, over the years I have come to appreciate the spontaneous burst of colour that flanks the wall of an unassuming underpass.

Entitled “Arctic Wings,” the mural portrays soaring 1920s planes, fighter bombers, snow birds, and red maple leaves. It is not the paragon of creativity and artistry, by any means, but it adds art to an otherwise uninspiring bridge. The mural not only serves as a cheerful homage to the history of aviation that is grounded in this community — the de Havilland plant in Downsview park has been manufacturing planes in the neighbourhood for nearly 80 years — it also functions as a form of visual relief from the dull strip plazas, concrete manufacturers, and office buildings that flank Wilson.

I have since learned that the mural is part of a larger plan to give the community a chic image make-over. Part of the project includes an attempt to brand the strip malls, bungalows, wide streets and stunted trees as Downsview Village. The mural, along with the re-landscaping of Downsview Memorial Parkette, the construction of the MOTH gardens, and the introduction of light-post banners that proudly proclaim “A Legacy of Aviation,” are all part of the image overhaul. All of these projects celebrate, in one way or another, the heritage of the neighbourhood. With a new mural slated to be painted this summer, it should be interesting to see how the subject of aviation will be interpreted, if it is used at all.

Another mural that has caught my attention is the unique blue and grey image found underneath the railway bridge on the corner of Davenport and Caledonia Roads. This mural brings life to a relatively dull intersection that is slowly emerging out of its industrial past. On the south side of the bridge stands an early 1900s, ivy covered, factory park that at one point built railway cars, but is now being converted into a residential community. It is no doubt an interesting location, but it makes me wonder who was this mural painted for: motorists or pedestrians? After all, I rarely see people walking along this part of Davenport and most cars whiz by too quickly to fully appreciate the beauty of this unconventional work of art.

Unlike the Wilson mural, the image of choice here is a departure from the colour saturated pastoral or streetscape scenes that are often depicted in murals. In fact, with its use of muted colours, the mural succeeds in being a piece of art that inspires contemplation. Every time I pass this mural, I can’t help thinking that the layered images of graffiti over pigeons are a statement of sorts — pigeons and graffiti are often blamed for the defacement of public art, but in this case, they have become art. It is as if the artist decided to celebrate the two great banes of public space, all the while evoking a backstreet urban attitude that compliments the blue collar history of the neighbourhood.

What makes this mural interesting to me is that it makes use of graffiti in a way that is acceptable to the politicians and residents who are vehemently opposed to this art form. It was paid for by money channelled into each ward through the Clean and Beautiful City program, which aims to deter the spread of graffiti on public property through the painting of murals. But, as the Davenport mural proves, graffiti can find a legal place in the public domain. It is original and edgy without being a threat to our collective sense of propriety.

With the warm weather approaching, and more underpasses to be painted, I am eager to see if more wards will be painting underpasses, with the hope that some will take a small risk and embrace alternative subjects and styles.

Photos by Patricia Simoes