flickr/lizzyszwaya

Last minute preparations for “This House Is Not a Home,” the newest exhibition at the Southside Hub of Production, feel more like plans for an abnormally large dinner party than an art show. I am volunteering this sunny Saturday afternoon both as a SHoP supporter and a curious outsider. As I go to wash a bag of apples for the reception, Laura Shaeffer, founder and curator, shows me how to use the split sink. The left side, strewn with dishes, is fair game. The right side, cluttered with sponges and soap, is not. “This is part of the art,” she explains, “the general rule is: if it’s attached to something, it’s art. If it’s not, you can use it.”

The exhibition, curated by John Preus, features over 35 artists from Hyde Park and beyond. It is three stories and a basement full of sprawling expression—the art overflows into stairwells, ceilings, and bathroom corners, taking over SHoP’s entire home. The building is less a gallery than a playground and maze, a deliberate collision of the personal and the conceptual. “All sorts of politics are possible in the space between house and home,” declares the show’s description, and this space proves to be quite hazily defined. The stairway to the attic is covered with snapshots of small private scenes, part of Alexa DeTogne’s “Beyond the Green Veil” series. Steps away, a man clicks away on a disposable camera, recording his family’s own moments in the gallery.

A home is an extension of one’s self into space: it is the creation, as Schaeffer puts it, of a “psycho-geography.” David Durstewitz literalizes this with his “Seven Day Self Portrait, 2/17-2/23,” a collection of the compost he created each of those days. These remnants are stored in mason jars and resemble homemade preserves, an unexpected juxtaposition of domesticity and decay. Michael Webster’s “Sphere of Influence” extends Chicago’s numbered streets to Talca, Chile, with an aerial map of 42,697th to 42,712th streets. Both pieces emphasize the difficulty of letting the objects and spaces of life become life —you are not your avocado peels, just as a Chicagoan cannot overlay the Grey City onto South America.

SHoP has its own ongoing struggles to find a home amid a host of houses. Fenn House, the current space at 57th and Woodlawn, is owned by First Unitarian Church. The lease will be up this spring, and the University of Chicago may be purchasing the building, which means that SHoP will likely have to find a new space. Ken Dunn, who has run Hyde Park’s non-profit Resource Center since 1972, mourns the area’s homogenization, which, he says, the loss of SHoP would only exacerbate.

“One thing modern life is deficient in is that everybody goes where everybody else like them goes,” he says. “This House Is Not a Home” does prove to attract a diverse crowd, at least from among the art-appreciating public—foot traffic on Saturday night amounts to over 400 people, from children who whiz by with nerf guns to wizened Hyde Park old-timers.

“This House Is Not a Home” is ultimately more of a celebration and reminder than a lament. Orron Kenyatta, resident performance poet for the night, proclaims, “a home is not in the baseboards, it’s not in the buildings. It’s in the passion.” For all the architectural appeal and enchanting crannies of the Fenn House, SHoP’s home is somewhere within the locus of interpersonal connection and the collaborations it fosters. The immense variety and complexity of the show itself speaks to the depth of the community—during preparations artists and organizers wander in and out, snacking and chatting while lending each other a hand.

For most practical purposes, home is a straightforward concept. It’s the place you grow up, the place your family lives, the place you sleep, the address your magazines come to. SHoP upends this definition, and demands an expansion. David Schalliol, a sociologist and contributing photographer, documents previously abandoned buildings that have been repurposed. His factories-turned-greenhouses and malls-turned-artist spaces celebrate the promise of places that have been given a new lease on life. Of his repurposed buildings, he says, “they may not be a home, but they may be cultural meeting places. The denial helps us see the potential of the space as something else, as all of the alternate realities.”

Maggie Sivit

“The neighborhood’s not what it used to be.” Expressed as a sigh, this refrain is all too familiar in Hyde Park and Kenwood. For some, the real neighborhood was long ago disfigured by the neoclassical and neo-gothic constructions that line the Midway—imprints of the University of Chicago’s founding and the 1893 Columbian Exposition. Halfway through the next century, another chorus claims history’s proper course was thwarted by the destructive force of urban renewal. During this period, the vital cultural artery of 55th Street was drained of its blood, leaving townhouses where clubs once stood. And while these moments don’t lack significance, they are merely convenient benchmarks extracted from a lengthy history. A neighborhood existed long before the 1890s, and exclusion didn’t simply begin or end. Neighborhoods are eternally being made and remade; they are inherently never what they used to be.

Today, no great changes appear on the horizon. Hyde Park and Kenwood are mostly residential and tree-lined, amber and beautiful in the autumn. The lake still reflects each sunrise, sending plumes of fog rolling west in the springtime. Most of the plans for major new additions to the neighborhood are concentrated along Hyde Park’s 53rd Street. Two new developments will be adding glass and steel to an area known for brick, while new businesses procured by the University will appear in older storefronts. Surely more changes will come, but for now this area is a place for schoolchildren and undergraduates, working parents and professors, and of course, the President and those peculiar parakeets.

Best of the Best Bookstores
O’Gara & Wilson
Hyde Park is a book-lover’s paradise. The labyrinthine basement location of the Seminary Co-op carries the world’s largest collection of academic titles. Powell’s on 57th Street is awash with a changing stock of cheap reads, new and used. 57th Street Books, meanwhile, offers new books without the sterile glare and burnt coffee of Barnes & Noble. However, it is the antiquarian and used bookseller O’Gara & Wilson that makes Hyde Park appear celestial in the eyes of a bibliophile. The city’s oldest used bookstore, and according to Saul Bellow the nation’s best, is known for collecting books with a history. Recently the store acquired the libraries of Kenwood Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf and Hyde Park Alderman Leon Depres. Arranged with great care, each shelf in the store provides an opportunity to rejoice in what owner Dough Wilson called the “tactile adventure” of handling a volume in a recent interview with the Chicago Weekly. Yet, it is small charms like a taxidermy goose and stuffed moose head that add a whimsical atmosphere to this classic Hyde Park establishment. 1448 E. 57th St. Monday-Friday, 11am-7pm; Saturday, 11am-8pm; Sunday, 12pm-6pm. (773)363-0993. ogaraandwilson.com (Tyler Leeds)

Best Breakfast Sandwiches
Z&H
Good ideas catch on. The first Zaleski & Horvath MarketCafe opened along Kenwood’s 47th Street in 2008, and the company’s second installment arrived in Hyde Park last year.  Their sandwiches are known for their fine ingredients and a dose of imagination, but Z&H also has a respectable breakfast lineup. It might be tempting to begin your day alone on their counter with some prosciutto and triple crème cheese on a croissant (the “Tenzing Norgay”), but don’t forget to grab a coffee confection. Their new machines look flashy, but they’re clearly not just for show. An odd assortment of gourmet cheeses, meats, and grocery items rounds out Z&H’s offerings. Take advantage of the fleeting warm weather and escape the rush inside by sitting on the tranquil back porch, accessible through the back alley. Two locations: 1126 E. 47th St. and 1323 E. 57th St. Monday-Friday, 7am-7pm; Saturday-Sunday, 8am-6pm. (773)538.7372. zhmarketcafe.com (Tyler Leeds)

Best Comic Shop
First Aid Comics
James Nurss, owner of First Aid Comics, knows how to run a practice. Waiting behind the desk, Nurss greets customers by name, pointing them toward to a new arrival or a rare acquisition. If you have any questions, Nurss emerges from behind the counter to help, revealing his full-length white doctor’s coat, the outfit of a specialist. With shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling, and stock running from flimsy paper comics to thick, large-folio graphic novels, it would take nothing short of a specialist to curate this collection. Mixed throughout the store are more indulgent items—a Thor replica hammer for sale, a collection of mint-condition action figures, and a series of superhero adorned glassware. But, Nurss also offers group sessions. In the back of the store is a game room, a place for card tournaments and community get-togethers. Waiting for tournaments to begin, regulars often thumb through the $1 comic boxes, hoping for a good find. 1617 E. 55th St. Monday-Tuesday, 11am-7pm; Wednesday, 11am-8pm; Thursday-Saturday, 11am-7pm; Sunday, noon-5pm. (773)752-6642. firstaidcomics.com (Tyler Leeds)

Best Thing in Cobb Hall
The Renaissance Society
Tucked above and away on the fourth floor of the UofC’s Cobb Hall, the Renaissance Society’s vaulted exhibition room attempts to push ahead of the curve. As the Society approaches its centennial, it can look back on exhibits that have featured works by Picasso and Matisse, long before those artists had their paintings reproduced in coloring books. Today, the Society’s mission is to offer the South Side a chance to see contemporary art before it is enbalmed in the textbooks of the next generation. Not every exhibit spawns a star—the venue is too intimate to have such sway—but the Society has a record of taste and the nerve to take risks. Art exhibits, if anything, ought to be tasteful and risky. Cobb Hall 418, 5811 S. Ellis Ave. Tuesday-Friday, 10am-5pm; Saturday-Sunday, noon-5pm. (773)702-8670. Free. renaissancesociety.org (Tyler Leeds)

Best Record Store
Hyde Park Records
Corporate media outlets  may criminalize such behavior, but loitering completes Hyde Park Records. Regulars wander in, chatting up employees or casually sifting through crates. If you linger among the CDs, the regulars will mostly ignore you. Atop the displays, recent critical darlings will appear, wrapped in plastic alongside dirtier jewels. Overall, the backstock leans toward established ’90s indie rock. You know a discerning eye is at work when you see music recorded two decades ago adorned with a bright yellow “NEW” sticker. This isn’t a trick, of course, but rather a signal for collectors. While purchasing such a CD may garner the modest approval of an employee, to get in with the regular crowd you have to get dusty. Hidden in the vinyl crates are old jazz and blues LPs, tempting enthusiasts from across the city to come dig. If your own excavation leads to an unfamiliar record sleeve, hand it off to one of the regulars in exchange for a history lesson. 1377 E. 53rd St. Daily, 11am-8pm. (773)288.6588 (Tyler Leeds)

Best Film Screenings
Doc Films
Doc Films, the nation’s oldest continually running film society, can trace its beginnings back to a couple of Soviet film nuts in 1932. Every quarter of the UofC’s academic year, Doc assigns a theme to each weeknight, ranging from the academic (“The Post-Classical Western”) to the whimsical (“Gore! Monsters! North Carolina?”). On the weekends, the society indulges in recent box-office hits. Admission is only five bucks, even if the night features a director appearance or rare print. The upcoming season promises to hit home. Kartemquin Films, founded by three UofC alums, will be celebrating its 45^th anniversary with showings. The group earned international recognition for its Homeric documentary “Hoop Dreams,” which traced the high school basketball careers of two South Side ninth graders lavished with promises of stardom. Adding a bit of levity to the season, Friday’s series will feature the works of Woody Allen. Meanwhile, a series showing films from dGenerate will offer a glimpse into the independent film culture of contemporary China. Max Palevsky Cinema. 1212 E. 59th St. Times vary. $5 for one film, $30 for quarterly membership. (773)702.8574. docfilms.uchicago.edu(Tyler Leeds)

Alone on the second floor of the Hyde Park Art Center, I push aside thin felt curtains to enter a gallery featuring “The City,” the first of four video installation programs in “Spatial City: An Architecture of Idealism.” There are two pieces in this exhibition, Sarah Morris’s “Midtown” and Bertrand Lamarche’s “Autobrouillard.” The second is playing.

A white light passes over an otherwise dim scene of a city at night. The movement repeats over and over again, like a searchlight scanning desperately for the hint of life amid ruins, while the wreckage consists of glass and cement buildings. The only other movement on the screen, besides a blinking red light off in the distance, is the occasional appearance of a woman’s face, made visible by a reflection of the white light. Her hair has fallen back and her mouth is open as if producing a scream; she is frozen in that position, appearing momentarily on a glass panel in front of the city scene. It seems as if the white light is coming from inside of a building, shining through a window to probe the outside world.

The video art on view sits above the rest of “Spatial City,” an exhibit inspired by the theoretical structures of the same name by Israeli architect Yona Friedman (born 1923). After fleeing his native Hungary during World War II to settle in Paris, Friedman famously declared in his 1958 manifesto “Mobile Architecture” that the structures of an ideal city were to occupy a minimal surface area on the ground, to “be easily broken down and moved,” to be transformable by the individual inhabitant. His ideas were disseminated widely in post-war France, and most recently provided the conceptual framework for the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee’s Nicholas Frank, the originating curator of “Spatial City.” Each piece in the exhibit relates in some way to the architecture of a utopic city that is alternately optimistic and cynical. The artists selected for the exhibit, like Friedman, make reference to the brutality of war, dehumanizing conditions in totalitarian states, and the impact of urban living and industry on the environment and individuality.

Walking through the exhibit, any trace of unstained wood is startling—the viewer is overwhelmed by steel, plastic, and, especially mirrors. The layout of the art in the exhibit looks as if it could be modeled after the plan of a city. In Friedman’s drawings and collages at the entrance of the exhibit, urban spaces are geometric sets of layered circles and boxes. Likewise, the position of each piece has been carefully chosen to highlight the beauty and horror of these monuments to progress. In Didier Marcel’s massive “Sans titre (labours 4),” stained black wood contains waves of freshly turned dirt. It is a frozen garden, set on display with steel, polyester, resin, and glass fiber instead of flowers. Made with several hundred pounds of actual resin, the structure could have theoretically served as the bed for new life. Near the opposite wall of the gallery is Philippe Ramette’s “Objet Cynique,” a four-person electrical chair constructed of wood, rope, electric cable, and aluminum. The image suggests that a collective exit from the world we’ve made has the potential to mollify the pain of death. The most conscious use of urban planning is seen in the arrangement of Kristina Solomoukha’s “Shedding Identity,” a set of neon digital prints behind Plexiglass and mirrors. When stepping between certain prints, the viewer becomes an inhabitant of a city that no longer looks beautiful.

While occupying HPAC, the exhibit also features works by Chicago-based artists Sara Schnadt, Jeff Carter, Hui Min Tsen, and Detroit artist Ben Hall, in addition to those from the French Regional Contemporary Art Funds (“the Frac”). Schnadt’s “Network” hangs above a gallery attendant, who reads silently in the corner. Electric yellow twine is tied in knots overhead in a site-specific web, suggestive of a virtual network landscape. Jeff Carter’s “Untitled #1 (Chicago Tribune Tower)” is made entirely of modified IKEA products in the form of the eponymous structure.

It is the first time that these works, brought together by the Frac from each region of France, are being shown together in the United States. Dwelling in our own metropolis until August 8, “Spatial City” is a bold and terrifying reflection of humanity’s complicated relationship with the structures it enables.

(courtesy of Vermilion Development)

In May 2008, when the University of Chicago completed the $6.5 million purchase of Harper Court, President Robert Zimmer heralded the moment as an opportunity. “Ideally,” he said in a public statement on the purchase, “this project will be reflective of the distinctive nature of Hyde Park and represent the best of Chicago’s mid-South Side.” This January, after Vermilion Development was selected by the University to redevelop Harper Court, its CEO, David J. Cocagne, was quoted by the Chicago Maroon echoing the same sentiment. “We’re very excited to be undertaking this project,” Cocagne said. “We think it will be very transformative for the commercial core of Hyde Park and will really celebrate all that Hyde Park is.”

The idea that Harper Court, once it is redeveloped, will represent the essence of its neighborhood has garnered considerable backing from both the University and its developers, who also market the redevelopment as bringing a much-needed retail and entertainment district to the area. But what is the “distinctive nature” of Hyde Park, and how do the redevelopment plans celebrate it? What is going into the Harper Court redevelopment? What will come out of it? Currently, the University is working with Vermilion Development (which could not be reached for comment) to prepare financial proposals for the project that are due in mid-June, according to Susan Campbell, Associate Vice President for Civic Engagement at the University. Once the funding is approved, Vermilion will begin work on a final redevelopment design, which will incorporate retail and office space, a hotel, a parking garage, and possibly a movie theater, and deal with structural changes such as the rerouting of streets as thoroughfares. While there have been no changes to the planned groundbreaking in early 2011, the financial climate is making it difficult to find funding for some aspects of the development, especially the housing project that is proposed for the second phase of construction, scheduled to be completed in 2015.

The funding issue highlights an important issue surrounding the redevelopment of Harper Court: gentrification. If the housing units of the redevelopment were priced at market rate, it is likely that many current residents of Hyde Park would not be able to afford to live there, while those with bigger pocketbooks would. Although the intent is to eventually offer affordable mixed-income options for sale and for rent, right now money is tight. “It’s hard to find funding to build housing, let alone mixed-income housing, “ Campbell says.

There are also questions about the displacement of local businesses from the revitalized Harper Court, a concern embodied by the departure of Dixie Kitchen in June 2009. Though Dixie Kitchen was not actually forced out by the university—Campbell quickly points out that they were offered relocation assistance by the University and that “it was a business decision” to close the Hyde Park location—it was an unsettling indicator of the potential negative effects that redevelopment could have on locally owned businesses. Campbell, however, points to measures to be taken by the University to engage with the community and local businesses to make sure that the final redevelopment plan is equitable. Her office is partnering with the Southeast Chicago Commission and the Hyde Park Chamber of Commerce to plan events like a July 4th neighborhood fair at Nichols Park, which is intended to “highlight businesses that have stayed in Hyde Park.” The project’s declared goal is revitalization that works for Hyde Park residents. “We have a vision of making a more vibrant commercial corridor, including retail that appeals to everyone” while at the same time “always trying to help [local] businesses,” Campbell says. “Hyde Park has a uniqueness, a diversity that people enjoy. Our key claim to fame is our people.”

Community response to the proposed redevelopment has been markedly more positive than it was when the University first announced its obtainment of the Harper Court property, and certain elements of the designs, like open spaces for farmers markets, suggest there is a real possibility of keeping a local sensibility in the new developments.

The Hyde Park-Kenwood Community Conference (HPKCC), a local association, has grown to support the redevelopment plans. According to HPKCC’s president, Jay Ammerman, what was once a controversy about whether to do anything with an underperforming Harper Court became a compromise, and what was once a community-run commercial center was turned over to the University with the promise of future revitalization. “Over the course of several years, we came to the conclusion that a change was necessary,” he says. “I don’t think we have an argument about where this is headed.” He adds, though, that HPKCC, in its capacity as an organization working on behalf of the community, would continue to critique University involvement so that community concerns would be heard.

Underlying the whole project is the question of whether or not the University would transform Harper Court the same way that it had redeveloped neighborhood spaces in the past. “When urban renewal was initiated in 1958, it meant drastic change, and a lot of displaced people with low incomes, small businesses, and people involved in the arts,” says Bart Schultz, a senior lecturer in philosophy at the UofC and director of its Civic Knowledge Project. The development of Harper Court in 1965 was a response to the displacement of artists from the prominent artist colony at 57th Street and Stony Island Avenue, where artists, writers (including Sherwood Anderson), and used bookstores set up shop. Harper Court was envisioned as a retail space for artisans to replace their previous haven. While it didn’t successfully replicate the atmosphere of the artist colony, Schultz argues that open space and elements of local authenticity like public chess tables made Harper Court “innovative” in its own way.

For Schultz, a successful development will keep those aspects of Hyde Park that set it apart from other neighborhoods in the city. According to walkscore.com, for example, Hyde Park is one of the top 10 most walkable neighborhoods in the city, rivaling the Loop and Lincoln Park. Institutions like the Seminary Co-op—which Schultz calls “the best bookstore in the country”—should be treated like “treasures to be preserved.” How, he asks, will plans for a hotel, which brings in road traffic, be reconciled with Hyde Park’s walkability? How will it be guaranteed that local business not suffer if chain retailers move in? “In all honesty, it’s hard, when you have what’s essentially a 12,000-person corporation, to engage the community,” says Campbell. “We try hard to help and to not overstep our bounds.” To that end, the University is working through its Civic Engagement office to be far more open with the community on the Harper Court redevelopment than with other projects currently underway. Just last week, for example, the University announced their selection for the architect of the new Milton Friedman Institute without any faculty or community input. Schultz says that measures like soliciting art installations from the Hyde Park Art Center are a move in the right direction, but he cautions against rejoicing too soon. “It’s very easy to announce a project with great fanfare, when really it’s a constant process,” he says. “I worry about that.”

The chess tables that once lined the open space at the center of Harper Court are more significant than they might appear. In the original plan for Harper Court, a chessboard prominently backdrops its logo, and its outdoor tables were a meeting point for neighborhood chess enthusiasts. Upon the removal of the chess tables in 2002, community groups like the Friends of Harper Court Chess staged protests and encouraged boycotts of the shopping center. Chess, they said, was something that made Harper Court unique, something that was a part of “all that Hyde Park is.” Maybe the powers-that-be are listening. At the February 8th meeting of the 53rd Street TIF (tax increment financing) district, Vermilion presented plans to include a small pavilion in the redevelopment, complete with chess tables. It’s a start, but Schultz encourages restraint and patience. “When a community gets into something like this,” he says, “the discussion is just barely starting to get along.”

(courtesy of Court Theatre)

Though only two actors command the stage and the set consists of little more than chairs and a backdrop, Court Theatre’s production of “Sizwe Banzi Is Dead” is filled with an energy and charm that belies its spartan setup. Deftly directed by Ron OJ Parson, the play is served well by the intimate nature of the Abelson Auditorium. Although more obscure and seemingly dated than other work by Athol Fugard (best known for “Tsotsi,” which was made into an Academy-Award winning film), “Sizwe” carries underlying themes of alienation and identity that move the piece beyond its 1970s South African setting.

The ninety-minute play opens with an extended monologue by Styles (Chiké Johnson), a photographer in New Brighton who regales the audience with tales of his past as a line worker and his battles with cockroaches in his studio. Just when it seems his stories will never end, a rap at the door interrupts him. The nerve-stricken man he photographs, Sizwe Banzi (Allen Gilmore), falsely introduces himself as Robert Zwelinzima. Styles does his best to draw out this sorrow-ridden character, whose reasons for mystery and misery soon become clear. As the audience finds out, Banzi came to Port Elizabeth in order to find work. Unable to do so, he has found out he has three days to return to King William’s Town—he can work the mines there or remain jobless. After a long night of drinking with Buntu (also played by Johnson), a friend of a friend, the pair comes across a corpse in an alley. The corpse carries papers with a work permit. Name? Robert Zwelinzima. Banzi is then faced with the decision of returning home a failure or adopting the identity of this dead man, losing his own in the process.

The history of this play is in some respects as fascinating as the play itself. Fugard wrote this work in combination with John Kani and Winston Ntshona, who both acted in the original production of the play. Kani used to improvise Style’s opening monologue, in some cases extending his lines until Ntshona forced himself on stage. Although never overt with its condemnation of apartheid, “Sizwe” was controversial enough to warrant the arrest of both actors for obscenity in 1976. Showings were marked by active audience participation and dialogues about the ethics of Banzi’s act would break out in the middle of scenes. The audience at Court Theatre for this production was a good deal more passive, though not for lack of trying on the actors’ parts.

Although the play is certainly a product of its time, this production of “Sizwe” has more going for it than its historical elements. The story’s personalized commentary on apartheid is well matched by the close physical proximity of the actors to the audience, and neither character is afraid to directly confront their viewers, grabbing hands and climbing over seats in one climactic scene. The play is strikingly physical: Johnson appears shirtless, and in one cathartic moment, Gilmore strips to his briefs. Without props or staging to hide behind, Banzi and Buntu’s physiognomies are all the audience has to understand the characters. Questions of identity abound, some obvious and others subtle. At what cost should one give up one’s name? For family, food, life? The dead man who Banzi becomes is not a deus ex machina solution to a problem of work but an absurdist beginning to a debate on identity. Although the play may have begun life as a political feature, its current aim is more philosophical—and Court Theatre meets that aim admirably.
Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave. Through June 13. Wednesdays, 10:30am and 7:30pm; Thursdays, 7:30pm; Fridays, 8pm; Saturdays, 3pm and 8pm; Sundays, 2:30pm and 7:30pm. courttheatre.org

(Mehveş Konuk)

The Op Shop, a temporary creative arts space, is Laura Shaeffer’s “attempt to create a sphere of community exchange and responsibility.” For Shaeffer, curating the space is a dialogical process. She likens it to preparing a soup: “Everyone brings their own ingredients, and together we make a soup that feeds all.” The ingredients don’t necessarily seem compatible at first—a heap of compost sits in the center of the store (surely this only adds to the flavor), and a church-organized thrift store in the right corner. Somehow, however, they interact to form an organic whole.

The space that was previously separated into romance, horror, sci-fi, and drama aisles is now divided into departments entitled Oral History, G.E.E.E. (for General Exquisite Economic Exchange), Mural, Indoor Yard Sale, Art Potluck, Fort Cardboard, and Reenactment. These sections are fluid, one genre merging into the next. At the Indoor Yard Sale, a woman tries on a purple skirt from the ‘80s while her daughter reaches for some Curious George books. The mother wanders over to talk to volunteers from the United Church of Hyde Park, and signs up for the Op Shop’s sewing workshop afterwards. The diversity of the store’s offerings attracts a similarly varied clientele.

Having spent thirteen years in Berlin, where art is an integral part of life, Shaeffer recognizes the shortage of accessible, communal creative spaces in Chicago. The Op Shop is an attempt to attend to that need, giving more residents the opportunity to enjoy collaborative art. The high school students painting a mural in one corner of the showroom have no artistic credentials, nor some of the contributors to the Art Potluck, yet all are given the freedom to explore their talents and exhibit their work. “When selecting artists, I don’t ask for any qualifications,” Shaeffer says. “I only require them to have spirit.” Even the space itself is given a chance to shine: a video installation in the far left corner charts the many incarnations of the storefront, from its time as a Walgreens to its current form as an eclectic art den.

Like the mutable history of the shop as a whole, nothing in its collection is static. According to Shaeffer, “the vision of the show is changed and recreated by what transpires during it.” Marie Krane Bergman, a member of G.E.E.E., describes it as a “theory/practice collective including artists and others,” embodying the same spirit of inclusion as the Op Shop. She explains that it is a “neighborly exchange experiment regarding whether the way we relate as neighbors can operate as a barter system, not an economy.” In an effort to put such ideals into practice, the shop is offering plants and seeds in exchange for anything with “value.” Patrick Thornton, another member of G.E.E.E., says that the Op Shop is the perfect place for their first public foray because “it’s a place for experimentation” that serves as an outlet for the creative community in Hyde Park.

This art forum is not meant to last forever, though. At the end of April, this manifestation of the Op Shop will come to an end. Shaeffer is already busy conceptualizing the next two. Her main aim with these projects is to make people realize that “art is messy and need not always be coherent.” Here’s to looking forward to Hyde Park’s next dose of incoherence.

The Opportunity Shop is temporarily located at 1530 E 53rd St.

(courtesy of Carrie Splitler)

Meeting every Tuesday evening at the King Public Library in Bronzeville, the group is organized by the Neighborhood Writing Alliance, a nonprofit based in Hyde Park. Since 1996, the NWA has held free writing workshops across Chicago, focusing, according to current Executive Director Carrie Spitler, on “areas where there are few opportunities for adults to engage in hands-on artmaking.” It also publishes writing from these workshops in a quarterly magazine, the Journal of Ordinary Thought, which bears the motto, “Every person is a philosopher.” JOT was founded in 1991 by Hal Adams, then a professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago. It began as an outlet for the writing produced by parents at Chicago public schools, but expanded in 1996 when Adams recruited Deborah Epstein and Sunny Fischer to start the NWA with aid from federal grants. Currently, the organization operates between ten to fourteen regular workshops on the South and North sides of the city, but the exact number often changes due to fluctuations in funding. It is run by two to three full time staff members, with the help of volunteer workshop leaders and proofreaders, and a board of directors who bring diverse expertise to the table.

Though the written word brings NWA’s philosophers to the table, teaching is not the organization’s only goal. The workshop leaders introduce writers to different kinds of verse and provide criticism, but according to Jeanette Jordan, who has frequented sessions at the King Library since 2006, “There’s no attendance taken. You don’t have to do homework. You don’t have to do anything. You come and you enjoy each other. Everybody writes differently, and that’s wonderful.” Says Lindsay, an MFA student at Chicago State University and the author of several books, “I come to pass on what I have and also to get the input and the conversation. So it’s a table of equals. Even though I may be the person who may have the more literary skills in terms of information—and that’s very questionable—there are other things I pick up. It’s opened my mind a lot.”

In addition to providing literary lessons, the NWA aims to open minds and dialogues, to build connections between its writers, as well as between individual lives and larger social questions. JOT serves as evidence, says Spitler, that “people can narrate their own story, can be in control of how their own experience is portrayed, can be involved in civic engagement and push for political change.” The workshops are not only a space to write, but also a space for writers to discuss issues that impact their daily lives. A recent issue of JOT devoted to transportation provoked discussions about the Chicago Transit Authority’s budget cuts. Writers are currently being encouraged to think about environmental issues for a future edition of the journal.

The workshops are also perpetuated by this kind of grassroots communication. Jordan tells the story of her own induction into the King Library writers’ circle: “On my journey to work every morning, I would meet this lady, and we would say, ‘Good morning,’ ‘Good evening,’ ‘Have a good weekend,’ that sort of thing. But we never knew each other’s names or anything.” One day, they struck up a deeper conversation, and Jordan learned that this familiar stranger was a published writer who frequented the King Library workshops. “She said, ‘Why don’t you come?’ I said sure. I loved to write, but I really didn’t have structure until this man came into my writing spirit,” she says, gesturing towards Lindsay. “I have writing friends of all ages, sexes, and everything. We share our words, and our inner spirits, and it’s wonderful.”

Of course, one of JOT’s biggest audiences is the writing family that produces it. “We want them to see their work published,” says Spitler, “and they take a lot of pride in seeing their writing in print.” But through JOT, the NWA also hopes to bring an understanding of its writers’ daily lives to a wider public. “In the same way we want to start conversations in our workshops, we’re hoping something in the journals will strike people and start a conversation.” She adds that the organization hopes that readers will “see the creative capital of neighborhoods that might be outside their experience, or that they only read about in newspapers.” Copies of JOT are sent out to various policymakers, with the hopes of, in Spitler’s words, helping them “find out what’s on the minds of their constituents.” She notes, however, that the NWA has received “very little” response from politicians.

Though many of JOT’s writers have stuck with their workshops for years, the NWA looks forward to bringing in new faces and broadening its mission. The workshops record each writer’s name, address, gender, ethnicity, and other information at the beginning of each meeting, and according to Spitler, “the demographics have changed over the last few years. For a time, we had 75 to 80 percent women, mostly older and African-American.” But the workshops have managed to bring in a greater Latino population, and, with the introduction of the St. Leonard House branch, based at the halfway house for released prisoners, an increase in the male population. The NWA also hopes to expand into the online world in the near future, in order to spread its message further and to encourage tech literacy. And of course, each new issue of the Journal of Ordinary Thought brings new writers to touch on new subject matter.

On Wednesday, the evening after the King branch’s meeting, the latest edition of JOT is unveiled to an audience packed into the Harold Washington Library’s Author’s Room. Based on a classic writing prompt, this issue’s theme, “Where I’m From,” asked writers to explore their cultural, spiritual, and geographic origins. The event brings writers from different branches together, offering them a chance to share words and experiences. Jeanette Jordan moderates the reading, opening with the poem “What Is,” specially written for the event. The release of this issue of JOT has special importance for Jordan. Not only are two of her pieces included in the new issue, but it also takes its title, “Whistle Talk,” from a piece by one of her fellow writers at King Library, Phyllis Roker. At the end of the two-hour marathon session of thirty readings, the room erupts into applause, then cools into a crowd of congratulatory hugs and book-signings. The library closes and everyone is shuffled home, but as the evening’s first poem “What Is” had predicted, “The words bloom like flowers/Each having fragrances for hours.”

Check back in a few days to see a short film of the Neighborhood Writing Alliance reading, produced by the Chicago Weekly.

Bridgeport’s Schaller’s Pump (3714 S. Halsted) strikes a balance, with a $1 entry fee but questions cooked up behind the bar. The problem is that it’s a once-a-month event, on the third Tuesday (of course) at 7pm. And Buffalo Wings and Rings (3434 S. Halsted) has computerized trivia, but—much like the beer—why go for that when you can have the real thing?

(Mehves Konuk)

Spring is in the air. Soon birds will be building their nests, couples will canoodle in newly-green parks, and students sick of their dorms or their roommates will begin the hunt for a new (or first!) apartment in Hyde Park. The world-weary staff of the Weekly, who collectively have occupied at least 30 apartments, are here to help you with the last.

This special feature has two sections. In the first part, we offer advice about practicalities such as hiring movers, knowing your legal rights as a tenant, and expanding your apartment search beyond Hyde Park. In the second, we provide information about several major Hyde Park landlords, including locations, prices, and amenities. In addition, last year’s housing issue with additional advice and landlords is available on our website at chicagoweekly.net/housing-guide—but be aware that rents and contact details may have changed. We hope this helps, and we wish you all good luck.

Neighborly Advice
Getting a Move On
Renters’ Rights
Renters Insurance
Subletting
Other Neighborhoods
How to Get Free Furniture

So, What are the Options?

This nightly apparition that haunts the corner of East Hyde Park and Cornell every night from 4 to 10pm is only a peripheral component of “Notes to Nonself,” an installation that has been hosted at the Hyde Park Art Center for the past 21 days and will remain until May 2. A long-distance collaboration between artist, musician, and psychotherapist Diane Christiansen and builder, puppeteer, and fellow artist Shoshanna Utchenik, “Notes to Nonself” is a totally immersive alternate world, complete with plywood trees, a dingy clubhouse, and a massive papier-mâché octopus, all framed by a canopy of wire-suspended clouds and the looming animation vaguely described above. The aural component, which is projected out to the street, is titled “Mastodons,” and was written and performed by Christiansen’s husband and usual bandmate, Steve Dawson.

Christiansen’s artistic repertoire is primarily restricted to the domain of, as she puts it, “iconography.” She found a partner in Utchenik back in 2006, while looking for someone to help her build a life-size cartoon character. Both graduates of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, they naturally had mutual acquaintances and hit it off immediately. After their “cocoon girl character” was completed, however, Utchenik gave birth to her son, Oskar, and moved back to Slovenia.

Inspired by therapeutic notes that Christiansen and Utchenik sent to each other across the Atlantic for the past four years, “Notes to Nonself” features sentimental notes created both by the artists and visitors, which hang low from nearly invisible strands attached to the ceiling. “[Utchenik and I] decided to create an installation informed by and covered with our notes which we were exchanging weekly,” says Christiansen. “[We were] each drawing or writing on the other’s notes in this crazy Baroque pen pal fest, so that’s how it started.” The notes, which are largely comprised of whimsical imperatives (“Wear more blue!”) and truisms (“Leather is good in moderation”), add both a dynamic and distinctly intimate element to the installation, in that one can actually relive the experience of previous visitors.

The truly dynamic feature, however, will take place this Saturday, when Christiansen and Dawson team up with bassist Jason Roebke and drummer Frank Rosaly to perform songs off of Dawson’s new album, “I Will Miss the Trumpets and the Drums.” Dawson’s style—which can be sampled on stevedawsonmusic.com—blends the unabashed exuberance of ’90s bands like Polaris and the Smashing Pumpkins with the twangy poignancy of Simon & Garfunkel and Neil Young. Actually located in the installation, the concert will be accompanied by Utchenik’s friend and fellow puppeteer, Mark Kinsella, who Christiansen says will be “riffing off of the content of the show.”

On Saturday night, the disembodied voice of Steve Dawson will no longer haunt the corner of East Hyde Park and Cornell. But inside HPAC, a fascinatingly contrived kitsch landscape will finally come alive with the only soundtrack it has ever known, plus some improvisational puppetry.
Hyde Park Art Center, 5020 S. Cornell Ave. March 6. Saturday, 7pm. (773)324-5520. hydeparkart.org