By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Evan Williams

Evan Williams is redefining caricatures.

His aim with these caricature-esque portraits is not to poke fun or demean, but, rather, to honor and pay tribute to cultural icons. The ultimate goal is to tell a story.

Evan’s story as an artist begins at a very young age. He says his interest in art started when he was just 8 or 9 years old. Throughout his childhood, Evan bounced from town to town whenever his father moved for his military career: Colorado, Virginia, Kentucky — even Belgium — and, ultimately, Ohio.

“My mother and father did a really good job of encouraging me and giving me the tools I needed to further myself,” Evan says. “I was always one of those kids who, when given the choice, would stay in the house to draw and paint. I’ve always been a more creative type.”

“I was always one of those kids who, when given the choice, would stay in the house to draw and paint. I’ve always been a more creative type.”

In high school, Evan became more serious about his craft. That was due, in part, to the influence of a few memorable teachers who empowered him to pursue his passion. He went on to graduate from the Columbus College of Art and Design (CCAD) and, today, he’s a visual storyteller in this city.

After a hiatus from his pursuit of the arts, Evan returned to his craft about 10 months ago.

“I got my art pad out and started sketching again. Then, I got my computer out and I created my own brushes in Photoshop. I started playing around and dusting the rust off, and I’ve just been seeing a lot of returns on my efforts,” Evan says.

In Oct. 2018, Evan became a RAW artist. RAW is an international community of creatives that hosts platforms for expression both online and off.

“Right after Thanksgiving, RAW had a big event here, locally. I got into that event. It was a huge show, and I got a lot of great feedback from it,” Evan says. “Since that, I’ve been trying to pump out as much stuff as I can.”

Evan is accepting commission pieces, working on a children’s book and selling prints. He also reached out to Columbus businesses — tattoo parlours, coffee houses, barber shops and more — to hang his work around the city. So far, the response is encouraging.

“It’s kind of weird to see someone react in an overwhelmingly excited way about something I’ve made. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do,” Evan says. “It’s just unusual to see something you create that can generate so much joy and laughter and happiness in someone’s life. That’s rare.”

“It’s kind of weird to see someone react in an overwhelmingly excited way about something I’ve made. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. It’s just unusual to see something you create that can generate so much joy and laughter and happiness in someone’s life. That’s rare.”

Evan’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

The Greater Columbus Arts Council’s 35th annual Community Arts Partnership Awards — or CAP Awards — are just around the corner, on Oct. 18. This is more than a luncheon; it’s an opportunity to honor the individuals and entities that allow the arts to flourish in central Ohio.

Better yet, this year’s luncheon is inspired by the Harlem Renaissance celebration.

“People should not come expecting your traditional talking heads and boring awards luncheon. We’re going to make it a lot of fun. It’s going to be a journey from Columbus to Harlem and back,” Jami Goldstein, vice president of marketing, communication and events for GCAC, says. “People will get to see performances, spoken word poetry and music. We couldn’t be more delighted about giving our community a really fun look at an important historical, social and cultural movement.”

“People will get to see performances, spoken word poetry and music. We couldn’t be more delighted about giving our community a really fun look at an important historical, social and cultural movement.”

As a part of the ceremony, GCAC will honor three individuals and three businesses for their outstanding support for the arts in the greater Columbus community. For the individual categories, GCAC recognizes an arts educator, an emerging arts leader and an arts partner. For the business awards, they recognize a small, medium and large employer.

The diverse range of awards represent the wide scope of Columbus-based movers and shakers that help the arts to grow.

“I think it takes a lot to make the arts flourish in a community,” Goldstein says. “Those community contributions are critical to having a vibrant arts scene. That includes financial support, non-cash contributions, volunteer involvement, board participation, on-going work every day — whether it’s with kids, or within the community to build partnerships. These kinds of strong partnerships between businesses and community members in the arts help stimulate economic growth, promote the city’s revitalization and encourage tourism, all of those things that we know the arts do every day.”

The past year has been particularly transformative for the Columbus arts community thanks to the I, Too, Sing America: Harlem Renaissance at 100 campaign. This year’s CAP Awards will reflect this city-wide effort to engage and embrace our local, black artists.

“We really hope people go away from the Community Arts Partnership Awards with a sense of inspiration, energy and excitement about what’s happening and the things that people are doing in the arts community,” Goldstein says. “As far as the Harlem Renaissance, we hope that this is just the beginning. This has been a year-long celebration that will continue into almost March of 2019. But this is just the start of us engaging our Columbus, black artists more to make sure that their voices are heard and that their art is seen in more places.”

“As far as the Harlem Renaissance, we hope that this is just the beginning. This has been a year-long celebration that will continue into almost March of 2019. But this is just the start of us engaging our Columbus, black artists more to make sure that their voices are heard and that their art is seen in more places.”

For more information, or to reserve your spot at the CAP Awards, visit gcac.org. Ticket sales close Wednesday, Oct. 10, so claim your table soon!

This year’s awards are made possible through the generosity of the presenting sponsor, PNC.

Nannette Maciejunes, executive director of the Columbus Museum of Art, and Tripp Fontane, the spoken-word poet, represented the Harlem Renaissance campaign on Good Morning Columbus for their show on Thursday, Sept. 27, 2018.

This feature is a small taste of the wealth of experiences and moments we’ve created — and continue to create — to celebrate the anniversary of the Harlem Renaissance. In the coming weeks, we’ll release the stories of each artist who traveled from Columbus to Harlem, including the story of Tripp Fontane.

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos by Kenny V.

Growing up, TrigNO was only allowed to listen to gospel music in the house.

But TrigNO and his brother were crafty. His brother would sneak VHS tapes of Usher videos into the house when their parents weren’t home.

“I feel old saying this, but they were tapes,” TrigNO laughs. “So he’d put them in the VCR and I’d watch them and see somebody moonwalking on their knees. He used to listen to a lot of rap and stuff when my mom and dad weren’t home. I was just like, ‘Yo, this is what I want to do. I like it.’ So I started training myself.”

“He used to listen to a lot of rap and stuff when my mom and dad weren’t home. I was just like, ‘Yo, this is what I want to do. I like it.’ So I started training myself.”

TrigNO became a dancer. But his interests extended far beyond just dance, as he practiced everything from rapping to acting — and, for a brief stint, the trumpet. Today, he defines himself broadly as “an entertainer” because that’s the most inclusive label for his talents.

He still remembers his first performance: It was fifth grade, his school was celebrating black history month and he had to rap.

“I had to rap in front of the whole school and I think I was the only one who remembered the words, and people really liked my verse,” TrigNO says.

It was around that age that he also met one of his most influential mentors — Mr. Malik Willoughby.

“We’re just so alike. Him and his brothers used to rap. They still do. And he’s a phenomenal dancer,” TrigNO says. “He taught me a lot. He also gave me good advice about finances and a whole lot of different stuff.”

With his own drive to create and help from mentors like Malik, TrigNO has honed his creative craft in rapping, dancing, acting and beyond. Today, he continues to rap and he also teaches dance for kids in Columbus.

“When I started, people knew me mainly for dance because that’s how I was in the community. I was teaching kids to dance as a kid,” TrigNO says. “Just imagine people knowing you for this one thing. As soon as I said, ‘Hey, I do music too, come and check out my project,’ they were like, ‘Aw yeah, but when’s your dance class?’”

“Just imagine people knowing you for this one thing. As soon as I said, ‘Hey, I do music too, come and check out my project,’ they were like, ‘Aw yeah, but when’s your dance class?’”

Breaking that limiting mold has proven to be one of his greatest challenges. Despite the resistance he’s faced, TrigNO continues to write and perform because he knows that there’s a need for his music in the community. He witnesses that need every day when he teaches his students.

“I know that the music that they listen to is very reckless, very young. There’s not a lot of wisdom to it,” TrigNO says. “I’ve had the pleasure of having both parents, and a father in my life who actually cared about me. They poured everything they had into me to make sure that I had everything I needed as far as my morals go.

“I’m not sure if these kids have that or not. But, I’m going to treat it as if they don’t. Or as if they just need to hear what I have to say.”

“I know that the music that they listen to is very reckless, very young. There’s not a lot of wisdom to it.”

TrigNO says that his music is for all ages. He doesn’t curse, he recently stopped saying the “n-word” and he focuses on the power of a message that he feels is missing in the hip hop canon. He says there’s value to preserving that innocence, even with raw subject matter.

“I can’t help but rap. I can’t help it. A lot of people feel like they have to dumb stuff down. Me? I’m not too complex because I want you to understand what I’m saying,” TrigNO says. “It’s real. It’s thought provoking.”

TrigNO’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos  courtesy of Matthew Vaughn

If he were an animal, Matthew Vaughn says he’d be a snake.

That’s because he can create melodies that glide elegantly through themes of heartbreak and death. Then, in the next track, he can write a verse that bites down with a ruthless edge. A snake represents the practiced union of grace and force.

Practice is a crucial component of the equation. He didn’t master his voice and style overnight.

“I started writing poetry at a very young age, like elementary,” Matthew says. “My uncle wrote poetry a lot. He would just walk around the house and recite it and I thought what he could do with words was super cool. So I started writing and continued to write throughout middle school and high school.”

Poetry was his first passion. Taking after his uncle, Matthew would write poem after poem, filling up notebooks with the written word. Things changed, though, his freshman year of high school.

“I had gotten one of my journals stolen, and so I was just really upset about that,” Matthew says. “Then, my oldest brother passed away and I just didn’t feel any motivation to do poetry. Over the summer, I still wanted to write, but I didn’t want to write poetry. So I started rapping.”

“Then, my oldest brother passed away and I just didn’t feel any motivation to do poetry. Over the summer, I still wanted to write, but I didn’t want to write poetry. So I started rapping.”

That summer between freshman and sophomore year in high school, Matthew started recording his tracks. Looking back, he describes those early recordings as disturbing; those songs show how he processed every complex emotion he encountered after losing so much.

When he recorded that first song, he didn’t have any fancy equipment.

“I started by blasting the music out of the computer speakers, and then recording the verse with the music in the background on my sister’s cellphone,” Matthew says. “Then I would upload those tracks to my SoundCloud. I still have a few of them.”

Over the next few years, Matthew honed his craft and practiced with a rap group. Once the group disbanded, though, he decided to take a leap of faith and perform at his first open mic. Until then, he had never performed anything live.

“I was shaking and everything and afraid of everything. I went on stage with sunglasses on because I didn’t want to look at the crowd, and it was just very, very scary,” Matthew says. “But I fell in love with performing, and so I started writing more spoken word. It was pretty much a wrap after that because I fell in love with the expression and the connection to people that I could have. Now I’m here.”

“I was shaking and everything and afraid of everything. I went on stage with sunglasses on because I didn’t want to look at the crowd, and it was just very, very scary.”

So where is “here?” It’s a place and time where Matthew proudly introduces himself as an artist. That’s because the term “rapper” doesn’t cover half of his creative endeavors.

“Yes, I can rap. Yes, I can do poetry — write it and perform it — but I also like to take pictures, I also like to sing (I’m in the gospel choir at my university), I also like to do a little bit of graphic design,” Matthew says. “I like to introduce myself as an artist because I feel like I can do a lot of things. Even dancing.”

Currently, Matthew is a published author of Intentional Scribbles and a student at Wilberforce University majoring in sociology. He says he owes a great deal of his success to support from Underdog Academy and his friends at Sun Tribe — or, as he describes the tight-knit group: “Those people in your life that give you motivation and hope for the future of humanity.”

“My purpose in life is to create, and I literally don’t know how to go about my life without doing it. It’s my form of breathing,” Matthew says. “My way of breathing is through art and creation. That’s my way of understanding and describing things.”

“My purpose in life is to create, and I literally don’t know how to go about my life without doing it. It’s my form of breathing.”

Matthew Vaughn’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Paul Freeth

A few years ago, an American woman waltzed between the aisles of a train as it trailed across the landscape of India. She stopped at each cluster of people and asked simply, “Tea?”

The train passengers couldn’t help but grin at the sight: She didn’t know any of the languages, she didn’t know the terrain, but she stepped confidently into the unknown and sold tea because she was on a mission.

A mission for a recipe.

Michelle Allen had been traveling with her husband, Paul Freeth, through India, when they stumbled upon a tea vendor. He sold the most aromatic, heart-warming blend of chai. Michelle asked the man over and over again: “Show me how you do it.” To which, she received a defiant: “No.”

Finally, her persistence paid off, and the vendor gave her a chance to earn the knowledge she sought: “If you serve tea for me on the train for a few days, then I’ll show you how to blend chai.”

“If you serve tea for me on the train for a few days, then I’ll show you how to blend chai.”

So that’s exactly what she did. After a week, she emerged triumphant with a recipe for chai that hails directly from the source.  

Michelle brings this level of exploration and flavor to everything she creates at her Short North confectionary boutique, MMELO. Inspired by European culture, MMELO is a cafe where people enjoy coffees and sweet treats across every olfactory and sensory spectrum.

“Typically, the recipes that I try are based on some kind of experience that I had,” Michelle says. “Like our lemon and thyme marshmallow is because we spent so much time in Greece. They do pears and lemons, and thyme and lemons, and lemons and thyme, with just about everything. I got that combination of flavors in my head, and thought I’d try it in a marshmallow.”

“Typically, the recipes that I try are based on some kind of experience that I had.”

To this day, her experience in India is the basis for her delectable chai marshmallow.

Each confection she creates holds the rich textures of a memory. A stop into MMELO is like stepping into a different culture and experience.

Columbus: A Latte Love

Michelle travelled all over the world, but Columbus is her hometown.

“I grew up off of Livingston Avenue. I went to Father Bishop Wehrle Memorial High School and Corpus Christi Elementary and Ohio State University,” Michelle says. “But I was dying to get out of Columbus. Dying.

“I grew up with this ethos from my mom that you are so lucky to be born on this planet. Go and look at it. Go and look at as much of it as you can. Go talk to people who don’t look anything like you,” Michelle says. “Go eat food that has nothing to do with the food that you eat.”

“I grew up with this ethos from my mom that you are so lucky to be born on this planet. Go and look at it. Go and look at as much of it as you can. Go talk to people who don’t look anything like you.”

After a stint at Ohio State, Michelle moved to New York to create a film production company in Tribeca — “before Tribeca was Tribeca.” Through that work, she met her husband, Paul.

“Then 9/11 happened and we were like, ‘We’ve got to get out of New York. Life is too short,’” Michelle says.

After some brief deliberation, Michelle and Paul decided to live in Spain.

“I went to my partners and said, ‘I’m going to Spain.’ And they said, ‘What do you mean you’re going to Spain?’ And I said, ‘I’m going to Spain. Life’s too short. I’m done,” Michelle says.

“And they said, ‘What do you mean you’re going to Spain?’ And I said, ‘I’m going to Spain. Life’s too short. I’m done.”

For more than a decade, Michelle and Paul thrived in Spain and spent their days “living and traveling and ultimately starting their family.” This is where Michelle fell in love with confections.

“Spain, Italy, France, they really are on the forefront of confectionary craft,” Michelle says. “At culinary school here, you might do four weeks of chocolate training. Whereas there, you choose chocolate training and you might spend four years studying chocolate work or sugar work. They also have robust apprenticeships where knowledge gets passed down.”

The more she practiced and the more confections she created, the more Michelle realized that she wanted to start a confectionary cafe of her own: MMELO.  

“I started saying to my husband, ‘Maybe we should go back to the States and start this?’ We would come back to Columbus a couple times a year over the past 20 years, and I really saw the food scape evolving and changing,” Michelle says. “Also, the culture of Columbus was changing with the influx of people from other places. It was becoming more cosmopolitan and I just thought, ‘Something like MMELO could work here.’”

“Also, the culture of Columbus was changing with the influx of people from other places. It was becoming more cosmopolitan and I just thought, ‘Something like MMELO could work here.’”

From Barcelona to Buckeye Country

In 2015, Michelle took the leap to bring her scrumptious dream to fruition. For eight weeks, she ran a pop-up confectionary at Easton. Fast forward to today, and she’s managing a bustling brick-and-mortar confectionary in the heart of the Short North thanks to help from The Food Fort – ECDI.

“The one thing I will say about the community here in Columbus: Unbelievably supportive. And I’ve done business all over the world. Columbus is unique in that regard,” Michelle says. “If you have a really good idea and you show people that you care about it and you’ve thought it out, then you can make it happen here. You really can. Whether the public accepts it or not is another thing.”

“The one thing I will say about the community here in Columbus: Unbelievably supportive. And I’ve done business all over the world. Columbus is unique in that regard.”

Public acceptance proved to be a sticky challenge for Michelle.

In Europe, she grew accustomed to a culture that readily accepted and understood the concept of a confectionary cafe.

“We found that there was a bit of a learning curve involved,” Michelle says. “When we opened, we had tons of people ask us, ‘What’s a confectionary? What are confections?’ That was one of the big year-one takeaways.”

Despite the inherent growing pains of starting a new business, Michelle wouldn’t change a thing.

“I absolutely love doing this. I mean, I love it. My son, who is my heart and my core, said, ‘I actually think you like this more than me,’” Michelle laughs. “The thing is, if you don’t love it, there’s no way this would work. It would be hell. I love doing it more than the herculean effort it takes to actually get it off the ground.”

“The thing is, if you don’t love it, there’s no way this would work. It would be hell. I love doing it more than the herculean effort it takes to actually get it off the ground.”

Michelle knows that this is just the beginning for MMELO. She has a vision for her company that stretches throughout Columbus and beyond. Even as her company grows, their mission will always be to create real, beautiful food.

“There’s no high fructose corn syrup, there’s no white refined sugar, there’s no artificial flavors or colors. That’s quite difficult and rare for confectionaries here in the States,” Michelle says. “We want to contribute something really beautiful and pleasing to the culture. I love to make food that is both beautiful and delicious. I love the naturally beautiful design that makes up our world — both natural and man made. It’s truly a blessing. For me, it was a natural extension to try and contribute something to that dynamic.”

MMELO is located opposite North Market at the corner of Vine Street and Wall Street. For more information, visit their website or stop in for a beautiful treat.

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos by Kenny W.

Every person became an artist at the Harlem Renaissance Children’s Mural Event on Saturday, August 25. 

Maybe it’s more accurate to say that each passerby discovered an inner artist who was present all along. With a little inspiration, paint and opportunity, the community brought an image of Martin Luther King Jr. to life.

Harlem Renaissance Children’s Mural Event from Warhol and WALL ST. on Vimeo.

Children and parents alike picked up paint brushes to contribute to a larger-than-life portrait of Martin Luther King Jr. By the end of the morning, the painting was complete.

The initial sketch, which was used as a guideline for the painters, was created by local artist Marshall Shorts.

In addition to the mural, children also had the opportunity to color in specially-made coloring books. Each page introduced one of the heroes of the Harlem Renaissance.

The completed mural will remain on display at the the MLK library branch. Not only does it honor Martin Luther King Jr., it also serves as a reminder of this moment in time when the community came together to create something beautiful.

Follow us at @CbusHarlem100 for information on upcoming events!

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Richard Duarte Brown

A young woman looked down at her son drawing and told him, “Don’t be an artist, you can’t make a living like that.” It wasn’t spoken with malice. If anything, she spoke out of love. She knew how hard it could be to survive in the arts, and she wanted the best life for him.

But Richard Duarte Brown was unphased.

That’s because Duarte knows that wherever he works — be it as a janitor or as professional painter — he is an artist. Pursuing any other path is unthinkable.

“At 6 years old, I found an encyclopedia with Picasso’s ‘Blue’ period work,” Duarte says. “I think, for me, visual language is the way I respond to life. I read so much into images and visual language and I understood that as my way of communicating and answering questions.”

“At 6 years old, I found an encyclopedia with Picasso’s ‘Blue’ period work. I think, for me, visual language is the way I respond to life. I read so much into images and visual language and I understood that as my way of communicating and answering questions.“

As a child, Duarte was resourceful. He used the materials in his environment to make art — things like shoe polish and chicken bones. At the time, he didn’t even realize that he was creating mixed-medium work. He just knew that he could create with everything in his surroundings.

At the age of 13, he came to Columbus to pursue art so he could “get rich and buy happiness.” Though he was young, he was an independent kid that was essentially on his own.

“I wanted to help my mom and my family,” Duarte says. “It was a noble dream. And it’s still part of a dream. That family has just expanded to the kids that I work with. Not in a cliche way, though. When I make art, it’s the same as when you have a family meal or when you set a table. It’s an experience. The relationship goes far beyond that thing and it carries you through your life.”

“I wanted to help my mom and my family. It was a noble dream. And it’s still part of a dream. That family has just expanded to the kids that I work with. Not in a cliche way, though. When I make art, it’s the same as when you have a family meal or when you set a table. It’s an experience. The relationship goes far beyond that thing and it carries you through your life.“

Today, Duarte is a master artist with the Transit Arts program, where he teaches visual arts to students across Columbus.

“We provide opportunities for kids to have professional experiences with the arts,” Duarte says. “It builds these relationships and helps people discover a natural talent, like you would in your family. Except that you won’t hear me saying, ‘Don’t be an artist. You’ll never make money.’”

“We provide opportunities for kids to have professional experiences with the arts. It builds these relationships and helps people discover a natural talent, like you would in your family. Except that you won’t hear me saying, ‘Don’t be an artist. You’ll never make money.’“

Instead, Duarte provides his mentees with the connections and the resources to make a seemingly impossible dream become a reality.

One of the challenges Duarte faced trying to establish himself in Columbus at a young age was finding a group of people to act as that support system. He also had to learn, on his own, how to mediate the inevitable periods or rejection that are inherent as an artist.

“The constant rejection of grants and proposals, that’s a challenge. You can’t put yourself in a place of ‘failure’ when your work is just not accepted or you’re not fit for a project or a curated show,” Duarte says. “That’s a challenge. Knowing how to market yourself, even as an artist of color to a market that looks for things that sell the right way.”

“The constant rejection of grants and proposals, that’s a challenge. You can’t put yourself in a place of ‘failure’ when your work is just not accepted or you’re not fit for a project or a curated show. That’s a challenge. Knowing how to market yourself, even as an artist of color to a market that looks for things that sell the right way.“

Despite facing this adversity, Duarte continues to create art and to help the young people in his community pursue art. That’s because — despite what some people might say — there are opportunities to be an artist right here at home.

“You don’t literally have to go to New York to be an artist at this stage of the game. New York will come to us. Or other cities will come see what’s going on in Columbus,” Duarte says. “There’s a lot of people doing really good things here. They have a dream, and I want to see that expand even more.”

Duarte is a part of the Short North Mural Series. His piece, Fleaux Child, is at 1359 N. High Street.

Duarte’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos & videos courtesy of Cameron Granger

Cameron Granger didn’t expect to find a community in Columbus.

When he came from Cleveland to study at the Columbus College of Art and Design, he knew he wanted to major in the cinematic arts. But he didn’t know just how much he would learn outside of the classroom from his network and mentors.

“I don’t think I realized it at first, but I’m a very community-oriented person. I thrive in close knit communities,” Cameron says. “When I first came to Columbus, Maroon Arts — Marshall Shorts, David Butler and them — they were the first people to ever embrace me and see value in what I was doing. I had a really hard time when I first got here, and they took me under their wing and assured me that this was for me.”

“I don’t think I realized it at first, but I’m a very community-oriented person. I thrive in close knit communities. When I first came to Columbus, Maroon Arts — Marshall Shorts, David Butler and them — they were the first people to ever embrace me and see value in what I was doing. I had a really hard time when I first got here, and they took me under their wing and assured me that this was for me.“

He Say She Say from Cameron Granger on Vimeo.

Without such a support system, Cameron says he probably would have left Columbus a long time ago. Now he’s learned to thrive in this arts community, but that journey wasn’t easy.

“Art is a primarily white field. Film is a primarily white field,” Cameron says. “I think, for a long time, it was hard for people to take what I was doing seriously. I would show certain things and there wouldn’t be a discussion around it. It seemed like people were afraid to or didn’t know how to engage with what I was making. It was really disheartening.”

“Art is a primarily white field. Film is a primarily white field. I think, for a long time, it was hard for people to take what I was doing seriously. I would show certain things and there wouldn’t be a discussion around it. It seemed like people were afraid to or didn’t know how to engage with what I was making. It was really disheartening.“

That realization was all the more disheartening because Cameron uses his works to tell a story and to generate dialogue. He first discovered that he could speak through video in high school.

FIRE!! – Teaser Trailer from Cameron Granger on Vimeo.

Prior to creating films, Cameron followed in the footsteps of his mother and grandmother by writing and drawing. Then he took a class that changed the trajectory of his life.

“Everything I was struggling to say through writing and drawing, I was able to say really easily through video,” Cameron says. “It was this perfect merging of the two.”

“Everything I was struggling to say through writing and drawing, I was able to say really easily through video. It was this perfect merging of the two.“

Initially, Cameron focused his energy on traditional film projects. That changed when he joined the MINT Collective, a local artist collective. Those friends and peers encouraged him to create installation and studio-based films.

“My work is an exploration into the media that I watched growing up — various representations of black men in movies, music, tv shows. I see what impact they had on me, and then everyone around me,” Cameron says. “I’m using the micro of myself to speak to the larger macro of a whole.”

Invisible Man from Cameron Granger on Vimeo.

Cameron says that he often feels pressured to create specific types of work because of the color of skin.

“When people see black folks making art, there’s a tendency to slap hot button topics like police brutality or other things to it, and I’m not interested in doing that right now,” Cameron says. “I’ve made things like that before and I think those are very important to exist, but I’m not really interested in talking about them right now.”

“When people see black folks making art, there’s a tendency to slap hot button topics like police brutality or other things to it, and I’m not interested in doing that right now. I’ve made things like that before and I think those are very important to exist, but I’m not really interested in talking about them right now.“

One of his latest projects is a mural in the Short North, which is a still from his film called “Urn, Or Another Way To Say I Love You.” The film is about the space between “you” and the thing you “love.”

“The more things you do to shorten the space or gap between ‘you’ and the thing you ‘love,’ the more you become what you’re trying to protect that love from,” Cameron says. That idea is particularly relevant for black artists showing work in the Short North.

“The love that I, and perhaps other black artists, have for these experiences that we’re talking about in our work, we want to cherish that; but we also want to share that,” Cameron says. “That’s the commodification of this love. In putting this work up on the wall in a part of town that is primarily white, we wonder how that’s going to be taken. And now that it’s all up in the wild, what do you do about that?”

Cameron has clear goals for the function of these murals.

“I just want to keep the momentum going,” Cameron says. “I don’t want the images that are up to be just backdrops for selfies. I want to think more about how to activate them. I think I was resting on my laurels a bit in regards to Columbus and seeing this has re-energized me to do more here.”

“I just want to keep the momentum going. I don’t want the images that are up to be just backdrops for selfies. I want to think more about how to activate them. I think I was resting on my laurels a bit in regards to Columbus and seeing this has re-energized me to do more here.“

Cameron is a part of the Short North Mural Series. You can find his mural, Urn, Or Another Way To Say I Love You, at 777 N. Wall Street.

Cameron’s Work