Jamming Through Allston, Part IV: Artsy Stuff

From Dave Brigham:

I never tire of stumbling across murals and kick-ass graffiti when I'm out and about with my camera. As I've discovered over the years, some murals last a really long time, while others are ephemeral, getting defaced or painted over or bulldozed. To finish up my series about Boston's Allston neighborhood, I want to showcase a TON of public art, and talk about which of these works will soon fall under the wrecking ball (very few, thankfully), which ones should survive for a while, and give credit to the artists where possible.

For links to the previous three installments in this series, see the bottom of this post.

I'm going to start with the most stunning mural in Rock City.

Located on a side wall of a CVS store, at the end of dead-end Harvard Terrace, this masterpiece was painted by Gregg Bernstein, whose work fills this neighborhood. This mural shows the Boston Public Garden in vivid colors that are probably not far from the reality of a high-autumn day in the city. It's such a shame that this work is tucked down a side street that few people travel down. This one dates to 2016.

Let's check out more of Bernstein's work.

The building-sized postcard above can be seen on the side of Azama Grill at the corner of Farrington and Harvard avenues. Bernstein painted this in 2012.

Located on the corner of Commonwealth and Harvard avenues, overlooking the trolley tracks, this tribute to Allston, Boston and the MBTA also dates to 2016. I wish it were easier to see (and photograph) from street level.

Painted on the side of Fast Eddie's Smoke Shop, this mural shows Harvard Avenue in modern times (on the right) and olden times (on the left, which I did a terrible job of capturing).

Finally, we have this one on dead-end Glenview Terrace, on the side of Blue Moon Smoke Shop, which is directly across Harvard Avenue from Fast Eddie's.

My second favorite Allston mural is also on Glenview Terrace.

I'm not sure whether Bernstein also painted this one, which is located on the side of Glenville Terrace Auto Body & Repair. He doesn't feature it on his web site.

While my two favorite Allston murals are tucked away a bit, the beauty on the side of The Silhouette Lounge is easy to spot.

Known as "The Famous Joe's," this one was painted by the Boston Mayor's Mural Crew and Johanna Kenney. Can you name all the Joes?

This lovely splash of color on the side of Scissor Sound Hair Studio was painted by Ryan Adams (no, that this Ryan Adams).

On the side of the Gordon Building along Glenville Avenue is this one painted by the Mayor's Mural Crew.

In an alley/driveway between Allston Car Wash and Bazaar on Cambridge there is a lovely, eye-popping series of food- and flower-related paintings.

At least some, if not all, of the works are by Lena McCarthy, who painted a mural that I featured in a post about Framingham last October.

I assume McCarthy painted the front of Bazaar as well.

The mural on Allston & Brighton APAC Child & Family Service Center, below, is really nice. I couldn't find any information online about who painted it.

Across Cambridge Avenue from the APAC site is a nice mural on the side of Sheesha Lounge, a hookah bar that may or may not still be open.

I'm not sure who painted this one.

Around the corner, on Denby Street, is this mural with brightly colored leaves and two cuddly creatures.

This one was painted by Caleb Neelon, who has completed murals in Brazil, Nepal, Honduras and other countries, as well as many in and around Boston. I featured one of his murals in a post about Cambridge's Central Square.

I can't decide if the mural below would look better with the trash bins moved out of the way.

I like the concept of a big bang exploding out of the refuse of urban life and the two figures soaking it up. I don't know who painted this.

Next, I want to highlight a few electrical box works.

Located on Cambridge Street in front of Allston Collision Center, this funked-up cassette tape and bees mural was done by Nicole Barr.

The one below, located on North Beacon Street in front of vegan restaurant Grasshopper, was painted by Merlo Philiossaint, who has painted other electrical boxes, in addition to plenty of other stuff.

Let's check out some free-form stuff.

Located down an alley heading toward Allston Auto Works, this work is painted on a brick wall, but it looks like it could have been removed from the wall of a local museum or gallery. I don't know who the artist is.

The graffiti below is located on the side of Action Bearing Company, which manufactures ball bearings, cam followers, spherical bushings and other stuff that I know nothing about.

In a back alley behind the Azama Grill, I spied the graffiti below, which I like, although I'm not sure exactly why. I guess I dig the blue door and red awning. Would I like them more without the graffiti? Perhaps.

The next piece has been in place for quite some time, I think. I heart it.

Located on a pedestrian bridge that spans the Mass. Pike, connecting Cambridge and Lincoln streets, this work is an entreaty for love. "Nasr, my dear," it reads. "What if we were to meet in Sumra, in the Garden of Eden, free from bliss, in a state of complete innocence. Mary."

Sumra is located in Iran.

All of the works above are safe for the foreseeable future, as far as I know. The ones below, however, are not.

The Parma Chai Out of the Blue Community Arts Gallery has a space inside the former fire station on Harvard Avenue. In the alley between that building and 2 Harvard Avenue, the gallery exhibits some works. The latter building is slated to be demolished as part of the Allston Square development that has been approved by the Boston Planning & Development Agency.

While Allston Square's developers have pledged to "host a lot of public artwork, including murals and sculptures as well as 9,000 square feet of exhibition space amid 27,758 square feet of open space," according to documents available online, the public will nonetheless be robbed of some existing art.

A former service station on Cambridge Street has become an outdoor graffiti gallery.

I won't mourn the loss of those tagging works. But I am saddened by the future destruction of the works of art in the photos below.

"There's a new world rising from the shambles of the old," this work says, perhaps ironically. I'm not sure how long this beautiful mural has been here. Did the artist know this building would be torn down?

The masterpiece below should be removed carefully and installed in a location where the public can enjoy it in perpetuity.

I've been unable to find out who painted this. I don't think it's an officially sanctioned work. I hope that the artist is being paid to create art like this somewhere.

Well, that wraps up my Allston series. Below are links to the previous three parts.

April 9, 2022, "Jamming Through Allston, Part III: Buildings and Other Old Stuff"

April 2, 2022, "Jamming Through Allston, Part II: The Future"

March, 26, 2022, "Jamming Through Allston, Part I: Rock City"

The Honey Hole

From Dave Brigham:

The honey hole is a rare commodity on the backside of America. Often, I know what I'm going to find when I head out to explore with my camera, be it in a city, suburb or small town. I research online, check out Google Maps and sometimes use Street View to get an idea of what I'll see on my adventure. But once in a while, I go in blind somewhere, either because I didn't have time to research, I veered off my planned path or I just felt like roaming aimlessly. And man, when I discover something totally unexpected, something that just blows my mind, I feel a surge of electricity through my body. It's like I've been allowed entry into a secret world.

Recent examples of such discoveries include the Tremont Nail Company complex in Wareham, Mass. (see August 19, 2020, "Nailing a Great Find in Wareham"), and an old bread-company trailer by the side of the road (see August 4, 2020, "A Little Sunbeam").

While recently buttoning up the last sites on my list for a post about the Bemis neighborhood of Watertown, Mass. (see March 20, 2021, "Shining a Light on Watertown's Bemis Neighborhood"), I was checking out Gore Place, a historic mansion and property that dates to a land grant from 1635. The estate, which straddles Watertown and Waltham, was of minimal interest to me, but I shot a few photos from the street and then noticed a small conservation area, with a pond and trail, across the road.

Located next to the Bell Watertown apartment complex, the pond 200 years ago was part of Cookson Farm. In 1834, Theodore Lyman, Jr., acquired the Cookson property and added it to his land, the Gore estate, acrosss what is now Waltham Street. Eventually, the farm house on the old Cookson property was moved to the Gore land, as defense contractor Raytheon had acquired the land where the pond was located, according to a sign at the beginning of the path around the pond. I'd driven by here before, but never noticed there was a pond or path. Since I was on foot, I figured a saunter was in order.

The sign also mentioned an old foundation, so I figured that would be a nice find. I never saw it, but I decided to keep going, skirting along the backside of the apartment buildings. I knew that the Raytheon buildings had been torn down in recent years. I also knew from previous looks at Google Maps that there were old parking lots in between the apartment buildings and businesses such as BJ's Wholesale Club, a Watertown Ford service center and a rhythmic gymnastics outfit. So I wasn't surprised to see some old pipes sticking out of the ground.

But when I saw a bunch of tires in an old parking lot, I thought, "Hmm, maybe I should keep going."

I kept walking. Clearing a small line of trees in the parking lot, I looked up, and....

"Jesus, what is that?!" I said quite out loud. I strolled across the lot, looking around to make sure nobody from the apartment complex or the nearby buildings was going to stop me. I don't know why I get so paranoid. Obviously people go through here all the time (I found out after posting some shots on Instagram that a neighbor had previously discovered this place).

With a radio tower standing sentinel next to the ruins, I figured out pretty quickly that this industrial remnant must have been part of the Raytheon operation.

I don't know why these two structures are still standing, when all other elements of the old manufacturing facility -- which was located largely in neighboring Waltham -- are gone. Maybe the ground underneath is more toxic than the rest of the property certainly was. Maybe because of the pond, this site is difficult to clean up and redevelop. In the 2015 Town of Watertown Open Space and Recreation Plan, there is promise of potential clean-up: "A portion of the remaining site is still potentially available although it has some use restrictions. The remaining approximately 7 acre remnant parcel has potential access to the south end of Walker Pond, but public access is not allowed at this point. This part of the site should be considered for potential public open space acquisition."

Such an acquisition makes a lot of sense, given the apartment dwellers next door. So what exactly did Raytheon do at this site during the 1940s to the late 1990s?

"We worked with the Draper laboratory which was part of MIT, and we designed the guidance systems that went into the polaris and trident missiles. We actually built and manufactured the stuff in the plant in Waltham," said former Raytheon employee Harry Sweitzer in this interview.

Yowza!

"During World War II, Raytheon employees contributed to the war effort. They supplied 80 percent of the magnetron tubes used in U.S. and British radars and developed parts for the crucial proximity fuse in antiaircraft shells, among other equipment," per a Companies History entry for Raytheon. "After the war Raytheon began offering civilian products, the microwave being among the most famous. Raytheon engineer Percy Spencer discovered microwave cooking when, as he stood in front of an active magnetron, a candy bar in his pocket began to melt. Intrigued, he sent out for popcorn kernels – and they began to pop. With that, a new appliance was soon on its way."

Who the hell knew?!

OK, enough history. Let's get a closer look at what turned out to be an outdoor art gallery/graffiti laboratory/public protest venue.

On the pavement was a heartbreaking message that boils down to this: None of us can be free until the killing of black boys and men touches people as much as the killing of white boys and men.

I was ready to check out the gallery.

I was stunned by the talent on display. This was way beyond graffiti -- not that tagging can't be amazing -- and evinced quite a degree of dedication to detail, color, placement and emotion. This was obviously much more than a teen drinking and drugging hangout (although it may be those things, too). I was happy to spy a ghost of the type that I see regularly around Watertown.

The lettering on the piece below is strong, the message empowering.

Looking at these photos, it's easy to forget that they were taken in a dilapidated, nearly fully collapsed former industrial building.

I was happy to see that the inside walls were just as fantastically decorated as the exterior ones.

(This shot is my favorite.)

One of the artists showing at the gallery does some fine metal sculpture.

Even the leftover industrial components have an artistic sheen.

(Old electrical box.)

(Electrical box detail.)

(Glad to see the employees were energy-conscious.)

I was reminded on my way out the door that this amazing artscape is potentially hazardous.

I hope you enjoyed seeing these photos as much as I enjoyed taking them!