24096: Hermantin(News)Artists paint the town (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: leonie hermantin <lhermantin@hotmail.com>

Posted on Mon, Jan. 17, 2005


ART
Artists paint the town
Muralists use broad brush strokes to turn city walls into public canvases
BY TRENTON DANIEL
tdaniel@herald.com

Serge Toussaint's father tells him he needs to get a real job. His mother
back in Haiti asks him to send money. His two kids wonder if he loves them.

The 40-year-old is an artiste -- tortured, not quite starving -- but you
won't find his work confined to a stark wall in a guarded museum or enclosed
in a frame; viewers don't scratch their chins.

Instead, you find Toussaint's hotly hued murals, and those of other
storefront painters, throughout neighborhoods such as Little Haiti, Little
River and Liberty City, brightening the leaden landscape of parking lots and
strip malls.

And unlike the iPod ''wallscapes'' spreading across Miami tower facades,
these mainstay murals advertise South Florida businesses, bodegas and
botanicas the old-fashioned way: with paint, by hand.

Toussaint's easily recognizable signature appears at the bottom of his work,
and its unmistakable ubiquity suggests he is among the most prolific of
these artists.

The ''S'' in his first name is long and sweeping, and is meant to convey
money minus mass consumerism.

''I have no commercial, I have no TV [ad],'' Toussaint said by way of
introduction at his hangout, USA Car Wash in the heart of Little Haiti.

''I'm Serge, the guy'' -- his index finger makes a swift ''S'' gesture --
``with the dollar sign.''

Today, his brush strokes illustrate soda drinks and snack food on the front
of corner store markets. As back home in Haiti, the paintings make a handy
antidote to the low literacy rate that pervades neighborhoods like Little
Haiti. His more complicated work includes murals of Voudou figures on
botanica walls.

Toussaint's favorite piece is a new one: a Miami Dolphins mural on the side
of a Little River thrift store. Dan Marino -- fresh out of a snap, passing
arm coiled -- seems to be looking for an open receiver. Ricky Williams
appears on the other side of the wall, his eyes set on a floating marijuana
leaf. A caption reads: ``Yo Look Out Rick.''

Toussaint has been painting since he moved to Miami from Haiti at age 15. He
has never done a self-portrait, but the Marino-Williams mural may be the
closest thing to one:

Booze and drugs used to consume Toussaint's life until he recently got
treatment at a rehabilitation clinic. Toussaint sees a connection in the way
his drug abuse forced him to isolate himself from his family similar to
Williams' isolation from his team.

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

For other sign artists, the work isn't so much an autobiographical
statement. Rather, it's the culmination of a business deal. Toussaint
usually charges from as low as $150 to $1,200.

Rodrigue Gilbert, also from Haiti, uses a firm hand to paint churches and
businesses. The trained painter has a contract with All American Hot Dog, a
distributor for stainless steel carts that come with wheels and an umbrella.

Unlike Toussaint's oeuvre, Gilbert's work has inched its way into the
virtual world; it can be glimpsed online at allamericanhotdog.com.

Gilbert's handiwork is also mobile: The hotdogs appear on the shop's 2004
Hummer. He will soon paint a U.S. flag on the Little Haiti two-story
building, the county's largest rendition of Old Glory, according to owner
Louie Di Ralmondo.

Gilbert, 44, who has been painting signs since 1982, notes how sign painting
frees him from the burden of spending money on advertising. Publicity
travels by word-of-mouth, he says. ''Which is better,'' he said. ``You're
selling yourself by doing good work. People respect your business by looking
nice.''

Gilbert concedes the pay isn't spectacular but it isn't bad either. 'You
can't say, `It's great year-round,' '' he said. ``It's an up-and-down
business.''

Di Ralmondo commended Gilbert for his work depicting hot dogs and steel
carts, both of which color the walls throughout the store and its exterior
on the corner of Northwest Third Avenue and 54th Street.

`COLOR COPY MACHINE'

''His mind is a color copy machine,'' Di Ralmondo said. ``He does it totally
freehand. He's truly, truly an artist.

Edouard Duval Carrié, a Miami-based artist from Haiti, recognizes the
murals' artiness -- he calls the city's walls ''public canvases'' -- but
added that their longevity is questionable.

''Yes, these are works of art, but the works have to be done in a certain
way to be protected,'' Carrié said.

``These things are quite ephemeral. If a merchant had a building, he moves
and somebody moves in and wants something different. What do you do?''

For some, it would be to repaint.

On a recent Tuesday morning, Toussaint could be seen kneeling, brushes in
hand, at the corner of a medical clinic in the Design District -- perhaps an
indication of his spreading popularity.

The mural shows two smiling families near a sunny beach. An easel nearby
told passersby: ``Serge: Popular Street Artist.''

''This is the only thing I love to do,'' Toussaint said. ``Give me some
brushes, and I'll paint, paint, paint.''