By Hailey Stangebye

The Short North Mural Series met — then exceeded — our highest expectations.

Over the course of the Harlem Renaissance campaign, we’ve commission 12 local, black artists to create stunning murals across the Short North. From the hyper-realistic styles of artists such as Terry Norman and Edmund Boateng, to the illustrative masterpieces of Bryant Anthony and Annie Chrissy Burley, this project continues to provide a platform for these artists to showcase their talent.

Within this collection of muralists, there’s one incredibly talented man with deep roots in the Short North: Malcolm J.

Malcolm J. is renowned throughout the neighborhood for his renderings of Short North landmarks. Today, he’s a beloved, friendly face. But Columbus didn’t readily open its arms to Malcolm J. when he arrived in 2005.

Malcolm J. is renowned throughout the neighborhood for his renderings of Short North landmarks.

When he first moved to Columbus from Cleveland, Malcolm J. was homeless. He took refuge in homeless shelters and began to explore the Short North.

That’s how he became engrained in the Short North arts scene. Initially, he created more politically-charged art. Over time, though, he transitioned to the types of cityscape drawings that brought him local prestige.

Today, scores of business and homes throughout Columbus boast original pieces by Malcolm J. His mural, Goodale Fountain, is a breathtaking landscape of Goodale Park that can be found at 15 E. Second Ave. The mural will remain up for at least 18 months. 

In March of this year, Malcolm J. was hospitalized after a violent attack. He had helped a bartender remove a belligerent man from a Short North bar, but the enraged man returned later brandishing a broken beer bottle.

The man struck Malcolm J. in the right eye with the bottle, impairing his sight. Despite the trauma, he plans to continue creating art. According to an interview with Columbus Underground, Malcolm J. will explore other creative avenues such as molding with clay.

We are beyond grateful that we could include Malcolm J.’s work in this mural series. Not only is he an incredibly talented artist, he’s also an inspiration. His work communicates a zest for life and art and culture that is unique to his outlook on the world.

We are beyond grateful that we could include Malcolm J.’s work in this mural series. Not only is he an incredibly talented artist, he’s also an inspiration. His work communicates a zest for life and art and culture that is unique to his outlook on the world.

Though the trajectory of his future may seem foggy in this moment, one thing will remain consistent: The love from his Columbus community. Keep creating Malcolm J. We love and support you.

Malcolm J is a part of the Short North Mural Series.

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

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Marshall Shorts

Marshall Shorts is among the Columbus movers and shakers.

He likens this city to an open canvas — it’s a place where dedicated individuals can create tangible impacts on the community.

“Part of me feels like I can add a stroke on that canvas and become a part of building this city,” Marshall says. “Other cities might have more opportunity or, in some cases, more resources and people, but I think Columbus is exciting because it doesn’t always have that. You can get next to people and connect with people a lot easier. That’s unique.”

“Part of me feels like I can add a stroke on that canvas and become a part of building this city. Other cities might have more opportunity or, in some cases, more resources and people, but I think Columbus is exciting because it doesn’t always have that. You can get next to people and connect with people a lot easier. That’s unique.” 

Marshall is a branding creative and one of the masterminds behind Creative Control Fest, but he’s also a local artist who has dedicated countless hours to help develop the Harlem Renaissance campaign in Columbus. He even designed the Harlem Renaissance logo.

“It’s not so much the acknowledgement or the celebration of the Harlem Renaissance. I think that part tends to get romanticized. But I think, more than anything, it provides an opportunity to educate and create a platform to have a real talk about what was successful about the Harlem Renaissance and what wasn’t so successful, so that we don’t repeat the same mistakes,” Marshall says. “Where are we 100 years later? Are we still facing some of the challenges that black folk had during that time period? Are artists still facing the same challenges 100 years later?”

“Where are we 100 years later? Are we still facing some of the challenges that black folk had during that time period? Are artists still facing the same challenges 100 years later?“

According to Marshall, the campaign in Columbus parallels the historical Harlem Renaissance in more ways than one.

On one hand, there’s been more positive exposure for black artists that have done and continue to do phenomenal work in their communities.

“The works created during the Harlem Renaissance were also in reaction to one of the most violent and tumultuous times against black folk in this country — across the country. While we recognize the art that was created and we celebrate that, that art came from a place of struggle and a place of discrimination and racism and violence and a lot of things.

“I think, for us today, when we see Black Lives Matter and other social movements, the response that happens as a result through art has parallels. Black Lives Matter is in response to vigilante and state violence, amongst other things,” Marshall says.

“The works created during the Harlem Renaissance were also in reaction to one of the most violent and tumultuous times against black folk in this country — across the country. While we recognize the art that was created and we celebrate that, that art came from a place of struggle and a place of discrimination and racism and violence and a lot of things.”

While the reality of this day and age can be disheartening, Marshall remains hopeful and says that he’s already begun to see some of the impacts of the campaign. The Harlem Renaissance Experience at the August Gallery Hop is an example of that.

“On the local level, I’m hoping that black artists feel empowered and that they have a platform to keep creating,” Marshall says. “I know there has been a conversation in Columbus for a long time around access to galleries and buyers and things like that in the Short North.”

This most recent hop opened doors for local, African American artists through galleries. It also added another physical layer to the Short North through the Temporary Mural Series — one, of which, was created by Marshall.

The momentum is here.

“My biggest concern is that, when this campaign ends, that it just ends,” Marshall says. “I want it to be sustainable. I want it to last beyond just the Harlem Renaissance campaign. I want this to be a part of the fabric of this city.”

Marshall says that this kind of organic, intentional sustainability is possible. But it often comes down to a dedicated few. As he mentioned before, Columbus is a place where individual effort counts.

“If you haven’t been involved in the campaign, make something,” Marshall says. “Get involved in some kind of way. If not with the Harlem Renaissance campaign, do something or create something or connect with folks. Continue to build this community outside of the campaign.”

“If you haven’t been involved in the campaign, make something. Get involved in some kind of way. If not with the Harlem Renaissance campaign, do something or create something or connect with folks. Continue to build this community outside of the campaign.“

Marshall is a part of the Short North Mural Series. You can find his mural, I, Too, Am Columbus, at 858 N. High Street.

Marshall’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Annie Chrissy Burley

Annie Chrissy Burley is on a journey of self love.

But she’s not alone. She has a community of supporters, and she’s a supporter of her community. Annie aims to help black women — herself included — find the representation that they need.

Her battleground is the current media environment.

“When you look at stuff on television, on social media, on the Internet and stuff like that, it tells you to degrade black women,” Annie says. “How do I look at myself and appreciate myself no matter what? And how do I love others, too? What does that look like?”

“When you look at stuff on television, on social media, on the Internet and stuff like that, it tells you to degrade black women. How do I look at myself and appreciate myself no matter what? And how do I love others, too? What does that look like?” 

To create that love, Annie uses art. Throughout her life, art has been a constant source of refuge. Art is where she feels most comfortable, even when the outside world is hostile.

And Annie is no stranger to hurtful environments.

“I don’t cherish those times when I was little because I was dealing with a lot of bullying,” Annie says. “When you’re bullied, you feel like you have no purpose — like your voice has no purpose. When I grew up, I think that was the thing that made me the most upset: When I felt silenced.”

“When you’re bullied, you feel like you have no purpose — like your voice has no purpose. When I grew up, I think that was the thing that made me the most upset: When I felt silenced.“

When Annie felt silent or as though she didn’t fit in, she turned to art.

“I didn’t have anything else to turn to because it was the only thing in my life where I knew I had a weird, consistent talent,” Annie says. “In my work ethic, everything else was a hobby; school was a hobby, but art was not, for some reason.”

As she continues to become more self-aware and aware of her environment, Annie questions how the media can make people feel out of place.

That’s the impetus behind one of her latest creations: A mural called “Anime Omission (Composite)” in the Short North arts district. With this piece, Annie illustrates a trope of some of the African American women who look at popular media and ask, “Why don’t I see myself reflected in any of these characters?”

Annie re-created a common form of representation of the “Big Black Woman” that she weaponizes against popular media. The figure is named Anyia, and her characteristics are based off of a character called Ayanami Rei, who is from the series “Neon Genesis Evangelion.” The artist sees Ayanami Rei as a cultural opposite compared to the common representation of a character that looks like Anyia. 

“The media has taken the ‘Big Black Woman’ character and made her into a joke. Like a real black woman’s existence is a joke,” Annie says.

To combat that hurtful stereotype, Annie drew her figure as a “Big Black Woman” full of grace, stoicism and self-awareness. In doing so, she shows that the “Big Black Woman” is not a two-dimensional, fixed archetype. The whole picture is much more nuanced.

“My work is about black, female representation,” Annie says. “With animation, you can have someone connect with an image, connect with a being that’s not real. You can make someone feel something with the power of what you create. It’s a responsibility.”

“With animation, you can have someone connect with an image, connect with a being that’s not real. You can make someone feel something with the power of what you create. It’s a responsibility.“

Annie is a part of the Short North Mural Series and her work is currently on display at Hammond Harkins Gallery through August 19.

Annie’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Edmund Boateng

Edmund Boateng sees inspiration for art in all of his surroundings.

He could be sitting at dinner with his family when, suddenly, an image outside the window will catch his eye. His brain, captivated by the idea, immediately buzzes with the thought of incorporating that image in his art.

“I’m inspired by nature. My explanation of nature is everything that God has created, including humans,” Edmund says. “In the creative arts, when you say ‘nature’ people just think about plants and animals and stuff like that. I don’t know if everybody thinks the same, but I feel like we don’t include humans. I’m inspired by humans, by people.”

“I’m inspired by nature. My explanation of nature is everything that God has created, including humans. In the creative arts, when you say ‘nature’ people just think about plants and animals and stuff like that. I don’t know if everybody thinks the same, but I feel like we don’t include humans. I’m inspired by humans, by people.” 

When he sits down to draw, Edmund is completely focused. His goal is always to create hyper-realistic representations of his subject. Surprisingly, Edmund has never had any formal training in the visual arts.

But, growing up in Ghana, he was always surrounded by creativity.

“My dad is a shoemaker. He does almost everything in leather, he makes shoes, wallets and belts. Artistry runs in the family,” Edmund says. “I have two uncles: One is a painter and one is an architect… We used to all live in the same house. So, growing up, I used to pick up pencils and watercolors. For as long as I could hold a pencil, I remember drawing.”

When he got to high school, everyone assumed that Edmund would study visual arts. But he surprised them saying, “If I’m able to draw, why would I go to school to learn something that I already know?”

“If I’m able to draw, why would I go to school to learn something that I already know?“

Instead, he pursued general arts, which is where he learned to write scripts for films.

Somewhere along this journey, Edmund stopped drawing seriously. He focused his energy on filmmaking and script writing. That changed when he met Ashton, who is now his wife.

“I started drawing again because my wife now — at the time, we were just talking — she liked art. While we were talking, I mentioned that I draw sometimes and she wanted to see something that I produced,” Edmund says. “So I did a sketch of the inside of my window and shared it with her and she was like, ‘This is really good, you should continue drawing.’”

Ashton continues to encourage Edmund to pursue visual arts. When they arrived in Columbus last year, they started going to Gallery Hop every month. That’s how Edmund fell in love with Sharon Weiss Gallery.

Sharon took an interest in Edmund and asked him to participate in an exhibition featuring self-portraits.

“That self-portrait went really well. It sold in the first 15 minutes of the reception. People were loving it,” Edmund says. “Sharon told me that she only asked me to be a part of it because she believed that I’m a good artist and she saw a future in me. She wanted me to be a part of it, and I was really honored.”

“That self-portrait went really well. It sold in the first 15 minutes of the reception. People were loving it. Sharon told me that she only asked me to be a part of it because she believed that I’m a good artist and she saw a future in me. She wanted me to be a part of it, and I was really honored.“

That piece — which sold in 15 minutes — is a drawing of Edmund holding a camera and a pencil to his face. It demonstrates his dual nature as a photographer and visual artist.  

After such a successful debut, Edmund decided to try a new kind of self-portrait that reveals more of his personality. This second portrait, “BREAKING LOOSE,” is now a mural that can be found at 1288 N. High Street.

“BREAKING LOOSE” illustrates Edmund’s reserved nature and his struggles to break through that shyness and stereotypes through art.

“I’m always reserved and shy. Art is the only thing that I can talk about — boldly talk about — and know what I’m talking about. It gives me joy just to talk or think about it,” Edmund says. “I love to create.”

Edmund is a part of the Short North Mural Series and his work is currently on display at Sharon Weiss Gallery through August 26.

Edmund’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of April Sunami

April Sunami knows that culture is a form of power.

She says it’s not laws or heavy-handed rules. It’s the way we influence people. It’s the way we instill values and show love. Culture is a soft power.

And the best way to influence culture and harness that power, April says, is through art.

“Artists come in all types, but I’m a visual artist and a cultural producer,” April says. “By cultural producer, I mean somebody who is in the conversation about culture. Somebody who contributes to the larger culture. I think all artists are cultural producers, really. We produce content that people talk about and discuss and consume.”

“By cultural producer, I mean somebody who is in the conversation about culture. Somebody who contributes to the larger culture. I think all artists are cultural producers, really. We produce content that people talk about and discuss and consume.” 

April has created art for as long as she can remember — it was her favorite thing to do from elementary school through graduate school. She still remembers one of her first picture books. It was about a girl named Sam who wore a leather jacket and had flower curls.

Today, April continues to gravitate toward art that shows African women in positions of power and action.

“It’s just a way of celebrating a history that a lot of people don’t know about. As a person who studied history, I always felt that African history was excluded from the picture,” April says. “Anytime anybody talked about the broader trajectory of world history, Africa was always excluded. Then, of course, women were always excluded from the broader trajectory of history.

“So African women and their role as these powerful figures, be it if they existed in real life or as mythologies from tradition, is what I hope to highlight and bring forth and represent in my work.”

“So African women and their role as these powerful figures, be it if they existed in real life or as mythologies from tradition, is what I hope to highlight and bring forth and represent in my work.”

April created a mural in the Short North for the Harlem Renaissance Experience at Gallery Hop that does just that. The piece, which is called “Dziva, 2017,” depicts a powerful African woman looking up in hope.

Her mural brings forgotten history to life. That’s why the piece is so perfect for the Harlem Renaissance campaign.

“The Harlem Renaissance wasn’t necessarily a re-birth, as the name suggests. It’s always been there. It was really an awareness that there’s this culture that is happening in Harlem. And really across the United States. What’s interesting about the Harlem Renaissance, to me, is there’ve been many points in history, and specifically within black art and black popular culture, where it’s been more visible at some times than others,” April says. “But, the thing about it is that it’s always being created. It never goes away. There’s always artists and people working continually. There were people before the Harlem Renaissance and there were plenty of wonderful cultural producers afterwords.”

“What’s interesting about the Harlem Renaissance, to me, is there’ve been many points in history, and specifically within black art and black popular culture, where it’s been more visible at some times than others. But, the thing about it is that it’s always being created. It never goes away. There’s always artists and people working continually.”

For April, this celebration shines a light on the phenomenal artists and cultural producers who were already creating in this space. It also creates an opportunity for communities to have a dialogue.

“These different movements, these different points of awareness, they always happen in communities. They never happen with just one person,” April says. “The case is usually that you have a community of people, a circle of artists and intellectuals, people who generally know each other, and they’re in conversation with each other. That makes this movement.”

April is a part of the August 4 Gallery Hop. Her work will be featured in Sherrie Gallerie and her mural will be located at 772 N. High St. Here is where you can find more information.

April’s Work

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Omar Shaheed

When Omar Shaheed surveys a piece of limestone, he doesn’t always know exactly where the sculpture will take him. Often times, the stone has soul of its own.

Omar’s job is to study that stone and reveal the right shape from within.

“Sometimes I break the stone with a hammer or drop in on the floor and let it break. Then I look at it and I study it and see just what it is and what it’s telling me. Because stone has a soul. Everything has a soul,” Omar says. “Everything is alive in this world in it’s own way. To actually tap into the energy of stone, it takes a while because it’s a very hard substance. But once you begin to carve, you really don’t know where you’re going. Sometimes you have an idea, but the stone has an idea as well. And sometimes you break something by accident, but it really wasn’t an accident.”

“Everything is alive in this world in it’s own way. To actually tap into the energy of stone, it takes a while because it’s a very hard substance. But once you begin to carve, you really don’t know where you’re going. Sometimes you have an idea, but the stone has an idea as well. And sometimes you break something by accident, but it really wasn’t an accident.” 

As Omar carves limestone, he traces an idea or a feeling. That’s his guide. Every move must be deliberate because of the nature of limestone sculpture.

“Stone is unforgiving. If you break it, that’s it. There is no turning back,” Omar says. “So now what are you going to do? You have to find a way to say what you want to say in this piece of art. That’s the excitement in taking a piece that’s been broken, changed, altered. You find a way to say what you want to say through that stone as well.”

“Stone is unforgiving. If you break it, that’s it. There is no turning back. So now what are you going to do? You have to find a way to say what you want to say in this piece of art. That’s the excitement in taking a piece that’s been broken, changed, altered. You find a way to say what you want to say through that stone as well.”

People in Columbus are listening to Omar’s sculptures and hearing what they have to say. But this wasn’t always the case. When Omar first moved to Columbus from the San Francisco area, he says that the arts scene was very different here.

“Years ago, when I first came here, this was not an art town,” Omar says. “I didn’t really feel comfortable in Columbus from an artist’s perspective because art wasn’t focused on as it is today. I think it was pretty bland. I used to sit and talk with other artists who were here and most of them saw the same thing I saw. For us, for African American artists, to be in the Short North, that’s totally different.”

For Omar, the Harlem Renaissance Experience at Gallery Hop will be a delightful — but surprising — change of direction.

“Even now, how many — without this show — how many of the artists would be shown? What would our African Americans be doing? Where is the outlet for expression? Well it’s not here,” Omar says. “Or, at least, it wasn’t here for all of the years when I originally came here.”

“Even now, how many — without this show — how many of the artists would be shown? What would our African Americans be doing? Where is the outlet for expression? Well it’s not here. Or, at least, it wasn’t here for all of the years when I originally came here.”

With time, Omar has noticed a shift in the Columbus arts culture. He now has a network of artists with whom he meets every week at the King Arts Complex. He has a space where people can gather and talk about art. That’s a step forward.

Despite the adversity he has faced in this town, Omar plans to continue creating art here. He says he’ll continue to make art until the day he dies.

“Art is something that you have to do and practice in order to really understand who you are because, to know who you are you have to look for yourself. Find yourself. Your habits, your likes, your dislikes,” Omar says. “How do you do that? I do it through art. I do it through creating.”

Omar continues to carve himself through carving limestone. With each maneuver, he comes closer to finding his true self.

Omar is a part of the August 4 Gallery Hop. His work will be featured in Brandt Roberts Galleries and his mural will be located at 642 N. High St. Here is where you can find more information.

Omar’s Work