Skid Row Elegance by Chipka
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No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
It happens on occasion: I will walk down a random Chicago street (invariably with my camera) and I will see something, or hear something that triggers the immediate and visceral recall of a Chicago I’ve never experienced. It happened a few weeks ago, on Belmont Avenue. (Though to tell the truth, it happens a lot on Belmont. It’s just one of those streets with a history as long and lurid as any Chicago street, or interstate-route that makes its way through the Windy City.)
As I walked with Corey, we passed a hotel—a fleabag: one of the only remaining fleabags in the Lakeview Area. It is a dark and forbidding building with a rude lobby you descend into. The front desk is behind glass, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re buzzed in (or you once were) as the establishment once catered to the more…um…colorful elements of the Chicago population. It looks more like a hostel than a hotel: the perennial urban flop-house, though admittedly, there doesn’t seem to be much flopping going on these days.
I’d always been fascinated by this hotel: I have to blame John Dos Passos and William S. Burroughs for that! Yeah, I should probably also blame Jonh Rechy and James Baldwin too: just to be fair, mind you. The hotel looks like something they would have written about, and it isn’t impossible to imagine strung-out lushes and junkies on the nod. Though there are no street-boy hustlers in the area anymore, you can sense their ghost-presence: depraved-angel boys with names like KiKi or Tallboy…abandoned sons too gay for whatever home-on-the-range kicked them out. Jake and Elwood knew places like this, as did any number of itinerate bands always on the verge of the one big gig (and the contract) that never came. Girls with names like Tralala met or became the catastrophes that bred in places like this. Communists might have rubbed shoulders with Black Panthers in the halls and rooms of this place, all awaiting the revolution that never came.
Now, Lakeview is home to the pretender-rich: “EYE-TEE” guys, and gals who work in “Hospitality.” I don’t know how they do it, but they all resemble a species of hive-mentality predatory gazelles composed primarily of pressed resin. They text rather than talk, and DKNY is the only fashion line they seem to know.
They’re not a part of what Belmont once was: they don’t see the ghosts that linger in and around this old hotel. I doubt that they’re even aware of how such places and lives were the foundations upon which great literary works were based. I can’t imagine many “modern” authors stopping to immortalize a place like this and the half-lives that once haunted (and probably still haunt) it. Who is the Upton Sinclair of the 21st Century? Who stands on the shoulders of William S. Burroughs or Jon Dos Passos or even Hubert Selby Jr. in their pursuit of grunge, graceful ugliness and profound, harrowing disenchantment?
I ask these questions because of this image. As I stood beneath the sign of this particular hotel—advertising free color TV, I felt as if I stood on the cover of a classic piece of American literature. I nearly smelled the sweet, heady tang of oxidizing paper. I heard mellow, bluesy jazz and dissonant angst ballads, and my shutter finger reacted as only it could. It itched. And so I framed what I saw and tried to capture something of what this place once was…I also thought it would make a pretty rockin’ book cover.
Comments (22)
wow very nice use of contrast the film grain looks add a very good mood to the image This has Vision Imagination Creativity and Excellence (VICE) (__/) (>''<) (")(")
Stunning work my friend.
I haven't seen the term "flophouse" in a long time. Perhaps homeless shelters have made them obselete. Your narrative almost makes me want to visit the place to see what it is all about. Great image with the colored "Hotel" sign on black and white.
I must say the he-ne HOTEL sign could not be more perfect in an imperfect way. Small block letters, staggered sizes, impersonal. And that rarefied ruby red glow, the cheapest tubes one could obtain in those days - no emeralds or cobalt in this part of town. It's ancient and malfunctioning transformer probably buzzing and hissing to the point one might think it would explode then and there. Showing the street with glass shards, PCBs and furan. It could only have been sleazier if it hadn't worked at all. I like how you suppressed the colours save for the neon sign. The gaininess and the rain make for a gritty unfeeling atmosphere. I like it, but go easy on the EYE-TEE peoples. My species have many different breeds. Not all of us shop at DKNY don't cha' know.
'Now, Lakeview is home to the pretender-rich: “EYE-TEE” guys, and gals who work in “Hospitality.” I don’t know how they do it, but they all resemble a species of hive-mentality predatory gazelles composed primarily of pressed resin. They text rather than talk, and DKNY is the only fashion line they seem to know.' I have a theory that we only notice these places and broken souls when we are going through it ourselves. When you have a bank account that never seems to get empty, and a great home and swish cars......it's human nature to forget. But it only takes a divorce, or losing your job that brings reality flooding back. And NO ONE is immune. Now heaps of people reading this thought 'yeah, but it will never happen to me'...........NO ONE IS IMMUNE! NO ONE IS IMMUNE
see, this is what I like about your stuff--it is absolutely provocative-- you capture "experiences" that are relate-able -- for instance, this reminds me of yet another haunt at one of my fave places to play in my youth....on a gray rainy day it would have an atmosphere that was calming yet somehow electric -- this feels the same way... And to clarify--the place on my corner was an old beat up diner my friends used to go to after a night of dancing--had the kinda charm that only old parts of a city have, which includes crazy folks screaming about Jesus...in other words, not a hotel...lol...
What amazing work! Your ability to bring Chicago to life in all its glory and infamous really blows me away. This is superb - image and narrative. Well done.
If walls could talk......this is exactly the kind of thing I felt in Chicago---the light,the color of the signs, there is a feeling there that's truly palpable. As Tara said in a recent post, "I can't wait to go back"!!
I can imagine myself standing in this shot, but not knowing if I am scared or comfortable in the surroundings. I can also imagine a teenager and his girlfriend waiting outside wonder if they should cement their relationship inside. Maybe a man and his mistress? Maybe some gang members using it as a meeting place? Wow, have I lost myself in this image or what!
Beautiful atmosphere, and cool tones. Great work !
Yes it could be a great book cover alright and the story behind it. is SO you. :-) That was a compliment, Chip. Both are brilliant art.
Burroughs and Baldwin..your narrative is what brought memories lurching back from my teens, when I read several books a week and still managed an active life! I can see this as the venue for Malcolm, maybe. The image seems oh so familiar..it could easily be a road in my town, but your description makes it dangerous in a different way.. Fab, Chip!
I feel like I'm getting to know Chicago from across the pond with your photography and writing. You've certainly captured an atmosphere that can be recognised in any major city. Myself, I'm reminded of Soho in London, where similar establishments exist, but where the streets are narrower. Rather than actual motels, you see open doors with red lights and poorly crafted hand-written signs promising "models".
Marvelous image!! superb riveting narrative!
'Girls with names like Tralala met or became the catastrophes that bred in places like this.' This, and your photo, say it all, and with such personality. CC
Reading your little musings I have a very strong suspicion of who the Upton Sinclair of the 21st Century might be, standing on the shoulders of William S. Burroughs, Jon Dos Passos or even Hubert Selby Jr. You have a fantastic feel for grit and the small things of life!
MrsRatbag might be right. Write that book. Make this the cover. I'm waiting to read it. The rainy night was the perfect time for taking this shot. Excellent that you took the color out of everything but the neon sign.
My, you captured the atmosphere here, even if Chicago means more the stories about the IWW and the Weathermen for me... superlative mood and great composition as usual!
I agree with Denise. Just keep writing the story, and there it will be. This is the perfect image for that story.
Excellent shot!
Nice job with the selective coloring. The film grain effect works perfectly here.
Me revient en mémoire un film "L'hôtel du Nord" http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C3%B4tel_du_Nord