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"Migrate," Turnage and Phillips' epic mural on the Cotton Belt Building. Photograph by Chris Naffziger
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Another view of "Migrate." Photograph by Chris Naffziger
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Another view of "Migrate." Photograph by Chris Naffziger
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Another view of "Migrate." Photograph by Chris Naffziger
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Another view of "Migrate." Photograph by Chris Naffziger
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Wide shot of the Cotton Belt Building, including part of what becomes the Artica grounds each fall. Photograph by Chris Naffziger
For most people in the metropolitan St. Louis region, the Near North Riverfront is nothing more than an abstract concept. It’s just another bombed-out, abandoned wasteland in “North St. Louis,” a blank canvas upon which civic leaders can build yet another football stadium. Shown images of weed-strewn vacant lots and crumbling warehouses on television, any reasonable person would assume that nothing would be lost if a new stadium were built on those desolate blocks.
But the reality is so much different than what the television and local leaders are trying to tell you about the Near North Riverfront. In reality, the area still contains numerous historic warehouses, old power plants, and one of the best local arts festivals, Artica, held every October in the shadow of the historic Cotton Belt Freight Depot. Since 2002, Nita Turnage and Hap Phillips have presided over the Artica Festival, bringing a wide ensemble of artists, musicians and other creative types to the Near North Riverfront—only a 10-minute walk from the Gateway Arch—and produced some of the most memorable evenings this author has experienced in this city. Culminating with the burning of a giant wood effigy (yes, the Fire Department gives them permission and supervises), Artica has shown that even an old warehouse and a muddy lot can breathe with energy.
But Turnage and Phillips had even bigger plans for the Cotton Belt, the longtime backdrop to light and laser shows during Artica. The opening of the new Stan Musial Veterans’ Memorial Bridge has thrust the Cotton Belt and the Near North Riverfront into the collective view of everyone driving into the city on the new bridge. After receiving sponsorship from the St. Louis Convention and Visitors Commission, which wanted to gussy up this new entry into St. Louis, Turnage and Phillips set about creating a giant mural, Migrate, that would stretch the entire length of the old depot.
Painting a massive, 800-foot long mural is no easy task. Turnage and Phillips utilized the form of the building; while in a perfect world, artists would want to create a grid to transfer a design onto a large wall, they instead used the windows and outline of the concrete support structure of the Cotton Belt. Using an industrial paint sprayer high up on a mechanical lift, the painter would receive instructions via radio from a spotter on the ground. Focusing on a simple but elegant design, the artists could move along at an efficient rate, completing this phase in late November, hundreds of gallons of paint later.
On a recent bright and sunny morning, the author visited the Cotton Belt with the artists. While the mural looks good all day long and even at night, it truly shines in the morning light. The ground was muddy and pockmarked by small, icy puddles, but the potential and beauty of the location is still evident. The Cotton Belt is by no means in perfect condition, and crumbling cement and frozen water create a fascinating patina on the surface of the massive building. While large segments of the mural are complete, the central section still needs about $30,000 to complete. (If you feel so moved, you can donate to the cause here.)
Of course, months after the first phase was completed, the newly announced plans for a replacement football stadium placed the Cotton Belt squarely in the crosshairs of the redevelopment site. The depot and its brand-new mural are marked for demolition for the new stadium and surface parking lots. The artists, however, have pledged to complete the mural out of principle. But perhaps what is most frustrating about the possibility of Turnage and Phillips’s mural being demolished only a year or two after its painting is the very real chance that nothing will come of the grand schemes for a new stadium. This author can point out dozens of vacant lots around the city where big plans never made it by the demolition stage, floundering in the execution. And how many stadiums have been built with the promise that this time would be the time downtown would rebound? Turnage and Phillips (and many others, from artists to private developers) are doing great—no, amazing—things, in even the most seemingly desolate corners of the city. It would be nice if now St. Louis’ civic leaders would get out of their way.
Special thanks to Tommy Nagel for arranging the meeting between the author and artists.
Chris Naffziger writes about architecture at St. Louis Patina. Contact him via e-mail at naffziger@gmail.com.
