Kyler Winfrey Digital Media Specialist/Good Neighbor Campaign liaison
Paul Goyette Photographer
EDITORIAL BOARD
Morris Reed Westside Health Authority/CEO
Karl Brinson Westside Branch NAACP/President
Bernard Clay Introspect Youth Services/Executive Director
Michael Romain Village Free Press/Publisher
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IN PHOTOS
Look At Her Fly!
On The Cover Painter Jesse Howard, an Austin native, sits in his home studio in Maywood.
PHOTO BY KENN COOK JR
"Fantastic Flying Lil Mama," a sculpture by the renowned artist Hebru Brantley, was installed at POPCourts! Community Plaza at Chicago and Lockwood. The sculpture is the first of its kind on the Westside.
The massive sculpture's installation took the better part of a working day.
Workers install Brantley's statue in Austin in October. According to Artsy, "Brantley’s comic book–style mixed-media paintings center on two young protagonists: curious, empowered kids called FlyBoy and Lil Mama. Defining himself as an Afrofuturist, Brantley draws from a range of influences including Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Chicago’s AfriCOBRA collective, African American history, hip-hop, anime, manga, and his own experiences of African American and urban life in the United States."
PHOTOS BY KENN COOK JR.
Seeing The Westside In A Different Light
Painter and Austin native Jesse Howard talks about his unique technique and how his art is like jazz
By Michael Romain Editor
“I grew up on 16th Street in K Town, around Pulaski,” prominent artist Jesse Howard said in a 2015 interview. Howard was among the first group of Blacks to attend Austin High School and played on the school’s football team, which meant that he got chased and softly tormented by whites both late in the day (he had to walk home from practice), as well as in the mornings like his
other Black friends who walked to the school.
“We’d all have to gather together on the corner,” he recalled. “They’d get us. We’d have to walk on Pine Avenue and Madison. White folk would get up on the roof and throw eggs at us.”
The experience, though, made him who he is today, he says. It breathes on the canvasses that hold his work— much of it comprising the grotesque faces and forms of men disfigured, silently fuming, angry from what can only be assumed to be any manner of unspoken injustices.
They are, in particular, who Howard calls the “virginally invisible.” Homeless. Disenfranchised. Humiliated.
There is an understated rage in Howard’s work that the Westside native says took him a long time to tap into. Earlier this month, I interviewed Howard about how his artistry has evolved since our last conversation. The following has been lightly edited for clarity.
See JESSE HOWARD on page 4
PHOTO BY KENN COOK JR.
JESSE HOWARD
Continued from page 3
A lot of your earlier work is created with charcoal, but you’ve since switched to working with someone else, correct?
Yes. I’m experimenting with Conté crayon [compressed powdered graphite or charcoal mixed with a clay base]. You can get some very deep tones; whether blacks or greys. The thing about it is that it’s unforgivable, but once you use it you won’t want to go back to anything else. I’ve learned how to mix it, though. So, I might mix Conté crayon with charcoal or acrylic paint, giving much more depth to the image.
One of the things that keeps showing up in your work is headward—especially hoods.
I went back to Austin in the 1990s and I started studying gangs. They were wearing hoodies. This was before Trayvon Martin. I just thought it was interesting because the gang soldiers wore the hoods. The leader didn’t have a hood on all the time. He was also involved with them and I learned their hierarchy. Then, it got to the point where I could talk with them because I wasn’t intimidated by them. I grew up in the area and knew I could talk with them. Later on, I started paying attention to disenfranchised folks. Some things about the Westside haven’t changed in 50 years. I wanted to show these folks in a different light.
What are some new focuses of your work?
I’ve done a series on church mothers, the older women who run the church. I haven’t seen many African American artists highlight them positively. I went to my cousin’s church in St. Louis to take pictures and did that series. That started during the pandemic in 2020.
What would you tell people who are new to fine art but interested in valuing and purchasing it?
They should start with their local galleries. Buy what you like for right now. Develop an appreciation for it, but at some point, it would help to do a little studying. Pick up an art history book or go to a lecture at an art museum. You’ll find that fine art is just as sophisticated as jazz.
Yes. Many people have a problem with abstract art, but I found a way to make my work somewhat abstract while pulling you in. For example, if you listen to jazz, you always hear the melody, then the break, and then different chord changes before they start interpreting it. But they always take you back to the melody and the audience never asks what you’re doing. When it comes to visual art, I give you a melody and start breaking down the form. The average person questions that in art, but not in jazz or music in general, because of a lack of knowledge.
Howard likens his partially abstracted figurativism to jazz. "I give you a melody and the audience never asks what you're doing." | KENN COOK JR.
"I'm experimenting with Conté crayon," said Howard, seen at work on a piece in his home studio in suburban Maywood. "You can get some very deep tones; whether blacks or grays." His work has been featured at institutions like the Illinois State Museum and the Depaul University Art Museum.
| KENN COOK JR.
From the Westside, With Love
CAPTURING OUR SHARED HUMANITY
Photos and essay captions by Kenn Cook
The following photos are part of the first project-based work I plan to publish—a limited-edition zine. I want Westsiders to see themselves in my photography and non-Westiders to see our shared humanity. On the Westside, we do
Jr.
things just like everybody else. As I researched, I realized there are not many archival records documenting Westside history— real life as it was lived in the past. With these photos, I hope to fill that void.
You can see more of my work at kenncookjr.com or instagram.com/bykenncook
That’s a summertime photo. They opened up the fire hydrant. That was one of the first days this year when it was over 100 degrees. When I think about summertime Chicago, that’s the image. Just the kids having fun outside. This combats the narrative that it’s too dangerous to come out and play. Kids out West can be in the community, be safe, and have a good time.
This is a classic Chicago snow cone image. This is one of those summertime moments that draw me in—it’s nostalgic. I was at a community event at Bethel New Life. They were giving snow cones and I happened to shoot this moment at the right time.
See more photos on pages 6-7
This was taken at Marshal High School’s all-class reunion this summer. I was lured by this young child’s gazing into the camera.
This is at Columbus Park in Austin. When I think about Westside’s beauty, I think about the intricate subtleties. Sometimes we associate greenery with beauty. There’s a myth that the ‘Westside ain’t got grass,’ that we’re this concrete jungle, but that’s not true. I also like how the light contrasts with the darkness.
These are Nash Elementary School students who I took on a photo walk/ride around the community. The teachers wanted to take the kids out to see the beauty on the Westside, to let them know they live in a beautiful community. This photo was taken in front of A House in Austin, a local nonprofit that provides support services for young families. The students took pictures on iPhones, disposable cameras, and DLSR (digital single-lens reflex) cameras.
and
posture speak volumes.
PHOTOS BY KENN COOK JR.
A Nash Elementary School student stands in front of a fire station on Chicago Avenue in Austin. Her stoic gaze
unyielding
I saw these men gathered outside Pickett Funeral Home on Madison and Lockwood. I was riding around the community looking for interesting scenes. We talked and connected, and I asked if I could take their photos. They agreed.
The iconic Austin Town Hall Park Fieldhouse from the Green Line platform. Designed by Michaelsen and Rognstad in the 1920s, it was influenced largely by Philadelphia’s Independence Hall. The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2006.
The wife of a well-known pastor holds a child at her husband’s funeral. The image reminds me of the historic photo of Coretta Scott King at Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral taken by famed Ebony magazine photographer Moneta Sleet Jr.
