Glowing art in the night
Jan. 30th, 2010 10:08 pmThere are two new lights in the skyline of East Vancouver. From the edge of downtown, there's a slowly turning red W. From up on the hill, shining down, is a light blue cross. They face each other; if you could stand on either, you'd probably be able to see the other, though you might need binoculars.
My house is about half way between them.

The W is a new reproduction of an old sign. Russ remembers the W on top of the Woodward's building from his trips from his parent's place in Coquitlam to his Grandma's in West Vancouver; it was the sign of Vancouver for him. At that time, the W was the sign for the Woodward's department store. The store has long since closed, and the building was abandoned. The building's fate was debated and fought over, and was recently renovated to be stores, cafes, and a bank on the ground floor, topped with condos. The block has been named the Woodward's District and the W was re-installed to watch over it all.
The W turns above the border between the Downtown East Side's greatest poverty and the downtown business men who think they are laid back because they don't wear ties while slowly working themselves into ulcers and heart attacks. Its history is one of consumer culture and capitalism as a definer of our urban skylines.

The East Vancouver Cross is a new version of an old sign too. The light installation by East Vancouver artist Ken Lum is based on a popular spray-paint tag.
I've been fascinated by Ken Lum's work since before I knew who he was, thanks to a very random installation in the industrial park behind my house ("A Tale of Two Children").
The new cross is packed with history and meaning: the Catholic history of Little Italy and the Irish immigrants, East Vancouver pride, and skateboarding culture. It isn't universally popular: Some view it as a gang symbol (it apparently was... in the 1950s). Some resent what they perceive as a religious symbol because our community is no longer, as a whole, very religious, and certainly isn't very Christian. Others sent resent the cross because they see it as sacrilegious. I like that people are actually talking about art.
Ken Lum says: "I don't see the intention of the piece as trying to be therapeutic in any way. I think it shows: we're East Side, we're strong, we have challenges and we have strengths. I don't necessarily see it as a pom-pom structure."
The W and the cross are facing each other: two different East Vancouver histories, and maybe two different futures.
My house is about half way between them.
The W is a new reproduction of an old sign. Russ remembers the W on top of the Woodward's building from his trips from his parent's place in Coquitlam to his Grandma's in West Vancouver; it was the sign of Vancouver for him. At that time, the W was the sign for the Woodward's department store. The store has long since closed, and the building was abandoned. The building's fate was debated and fought over, and was recently renovated to be stores, cafes, and a bank on the ground floor, topped with condos. The block has been named the Woodward's District and the W was re-installed to watch over it all.
The W turns above the border between the Downtown East Side's greatest poverty and the downtown business men who think they are laid back because they don't wear ties while slowly working themselves into ulcers and heart attacks. Its history is one of consumer culture and capitalism as a definer of our urban skylines.
The East Vancouver Cross is a new version of an old sign too. The light installation by East Vancouver artist Ken Lum is based on a popular spray-paint tag.
I've been fascinated by Ken Lum's work since before I knew who he was, thanks to a very random installation in the industrial park behind my house ("A Tale of Two Children").
The new cross is packed with history and meaning: the Catholic history of Little Italy and the Irish immigrants, East Vancouver pride, and skateboarding culture. It isn't universally popular: Some view it as a gang symbol (it apparently was... in the 1950s). Some resent what they perceive as a religious symbol because our community is no longer, as a whole, very religious, and certainly isn't very Christian. Others sent resent the cross because they see it as sacrilegious. I like that people are actually talking about art.
Ken Lum says: "I don't see the intention of the piece as trying to be therapeutic in any way. I think it shows: we're East Side, we're strong, we have challenges and we have strengths. I don't necessarily see it as a pom-pom structure."
The W and the cross are facing each other: two different East Vancouver histories, and maybe two different futures.