America Decides

I’ve always had a fascination with America, especially through its literature, reading Burroughs, Kerouac, and my favourite, Hunter S. Thompson. I studied art in New York at the Art Students League and ended up working with American satirical institution Mad magazine, a potent mirror of daily American society and its tropes. As a young artist the city was as grungy as The Kills’ song What New York Used to Be.

With such a crucial decision for the American people looming, I spent time in the US earlier this year for my own solo show at Thomas VanDyke Gallery in Brooklyn, NY. I documented the street with sketchbooks, capturing its people and its “feeling.” I saw a nervousness and humility. People seemed more concerned with just living, hustling in their daily life, getting by, coming to grips with rising costs of living, rents, and health concerns—life all seemed a little squirrelly.

I’ve seen a lot of changes in the US over numerous visits since the early nineties. Back then, one wrong turn in a Lower East Side backstreet and you were flirting with a mugging. Under mayor Ed Koch, crime was up, crack was sold openly on the street. Now you’re more likely to get assaulted by an unsanctioned Disney character in Times Square for not tipping a photo bomb, or harassed by fake Buddhist monks. But what lies beneath the surface of this city is an indomitable ability to transform, accepting the changing condition of humanity, and no tolerance for intolerance. In this election year there is still hope. On each trip I take around the world I keep a visual diary, a record. They become more of my memory of a place and people than words or photos.

This time I got a sense of tired, fed-up Americans as everyday life goes on. Constantly dealing with the teeming masses, border policies, media beat-ups, and scare campaigns that seem to be everywhere. On the subway, you keep to yourself, don’t look anyone in the eyes, but it’s hard not to notice all the police on most subway platforms—a new directive from the current mayor. I visited expats who’ve had to adjust to the constant changes of big city living. One friend, Olivia, mentioned how during the COVID-19 pandemic, she woke up each day immediately anxious under the government of Trump, “waking up to another news cycle of horrors, what’s in store for us today?” When Biden won, she thought, “at least that’s one less worry we have to deal with today.”

Most people are used to the constant demands of daily life in this city, the swarm of technology, the aggressive attitude needed to cope with the human onslaught. They are used to mad people on the street, the in-your-face greed of the marketplace, and also the inflated tipping expectations. The everyday proliferation of marijuana was always a mainstay of NYC but now it’s legalised and the everyday waft is a regular part of local life for the willing and unwilling. Pot stores are everywhere and don’t go unnoticed right near schools.

In saying that, there is also big ambition, energy and a positive spirit, and imagination—maybe even hope—that springs from people. A desire for a better future, despite the difficulties of living. Big business rules as usual, big talk is everywhere. But I sensed just a little nervousness when questioned about the upcoming election, the ingrained self-confidence of spirit came down a notch when people were asked about the possible outcomes, in my chats at the local diner or café. I spoke with my ex-boss, a wise eighty-three-year-old New Yorker named Dorothy, who worked in publishing, arbitration and contract law, and is still working. She has seen it all in the city. She says life is harder and a lot of people have now moved out of town since COVID. For her, the US has changed. People are more self-absorbed, concerned, “Life is more complicated and more expensive!”

I watched the tourists pour into Manhattan, where the average cost for one night at a hotel is at least $500. Someone will always pay it, and don’t the hoteliers know it. There was an excess of spending from the out-of-towners at Macy’s department store when I went in to draw. All seemed oblivious to anything that was happening in the outside world—no cost-of-living crisis in there, while conflicts were happening on university campuses down the road, overseas in Gaza, and in the Ukraine. The impending implications and possibilities of what will happen into the future after this particular election are easily forgotten. People are just concentrating on getting through the daily life of a busy city and surviving comfortably on the Avenue of the Americas.

This article was originally published in Artist Profile, issue 68