Captive colors

By William Kenny
Times Staff Writer

There was always something about that big mural on the side of a building at 22nd Street and Lehigh Avenue in North Philly that attracted Dennis Reeder.
The alfresco painting seemed to hold a deep message for Reeder, 20, and other young men in the neighborhood.
"Probably about two years ago it was completed," Reeder said. "It has a lot of children’s faces and on top there are a lot of different professions and it says, ‘I have a dream, too.’ It sends a positive message to a neighborhood that doesn’t have a lot of mentors."
Sadly, Reeder didn’t quite get the message in time. For him, the last few years have been defined largely by a series of arrests and spells in jail.
Currently he’s behind bars at the city’s House of Correction while awaiting disposition of active drug and burglary cases. He can’t be sure when he’ll regain his freedom. In the meantime, though, he still thinks of that mural at 22nd and Lehigh. In fact, he says, it inspired him to sign up for the Philadelphia Prison System’s own mural program for inmates.
Two nights a week, for two hours each night, he and a handful of other prisoners study drawing and painting under Angela Krafton, a former convict who used art to pull herself out of drug addiction and rebuild her life.
Krafton works for the acclaimed local non-profit Mural Arts Program, the same organization responsible for painting that building in Reeder’s neighborhood. She spends six days a week visiting all of the city’s prisons, trying to inspire inmates to follow her lead.
"I did art as a kid and I stopped doing it as a teenager because I pretty much fell into the wrong crowd," said Krafton, 37.
Much of her 20s was spent in and out of prisons like PICC, the Philadelphia Industrial Correctional Center.
"My last time in jail, I was in for a while and started doing art again," she said.
The prison’s OPTIONS drug-treatment program brought in a group of Temple University students who were working on a project to develop a "model" women’s prison. They wanted input from the inmates.
While many of the women suggested things like educational, child day-care and work-release programming, the Temple students wanted to know what the place would look like physically.
So Krafton drew the whole thing.
"That’s when I said, ‘I’m going back to art school,’" she recalled. "My goal was to go back and to work in the prison. I really thought I’d be an art therapist."
Krafton discovered then what corrections experts are now realizing far and wide, that art programs can be effective tools to prepare prison inmates for their return to society.
Philadelphia prisons have had a mural-painting program for about six years. In the last couple of years, the program has grown as the prison system has sought to provide a continuum of so-called re-entry programs.
"We’re trying to get murals going in each of the jails," said Robert Eskind, public information officer for the city prison system.
"We’re becoming more open to murals," agreed Capt. Thernell Oakman, a shift supervisor at the House of Correction, while reviewing a three-walled painting in the hall outside his office.
Titled Evolution, the mural depicts a young man on a street corner who’s about to be picked up by a prison system "paddy wagon"; the same young man on a prison cot, contemplating where his life went wrong; and finally the young man after his release, wearing a business suit and sitting on a park bench with the city skyline as a backdrop.
One of Krafton’s juvenile classes completed the mural last August.
"This was all battleship gray in here (before)," Oakman said. "Everybody who comes through here now is flabbergasted when they see it. The juveniles did this, and they put their own feeling into it."
According to Krafton, inmates can benefit from the program in the short and long terms. First, it’s a chance for them to escape the tedium of their cellblocks for a while. At the House of Correction, the sessions take place on the shift supervisor’s block.
"At first, they come just to get out and hang out with their boys from another unit," Krafton said. "Then once they come in and do an hour of work, that’s good. They’ve got a taste."
Individual mural projects last 10 weeks. During that time, inmates enter and leave the program because of the heavy turnover seen at city prisons. Nonetheless, Krafton tries to start them out with basic drawing lessons and work up to portraits, coloring and large-scale design. Some are into the detail work, while others stick to the basics, like rolling background colors onto the wall. Either way, the key is getting them involved in a process and working toward a positive outcome.
"I give them a lot of freedom," Krafton said. "I see what they gravitate toward."
Luis Morales, 26, from South Philly, said he wants to take art seriously when he gets out of jail. He’s now serving a sentence for retail theft.
"I would like to learn," Morales said. "I took art in high school in Puerto Rico. I’m thinking about going to school. I’ve got six months left (in jail) and I’m trying to get all the programs I can get to keep busy and stay out of trouble."
Tysean Greer, 24, of Southwest Philly, thinks that any new skills he can learn might help him on the outside. In the past, Greer has worked in a clothing store, a restaurant and a meat products business. He’s awaiting trial on a drug case.
"When I leave (art class), I’ll be drawing in my cell and sending it to my girl," Greer said. "I like doing it."
He wants to keep drawing after he gets out of prison.
"I’ll be making an example for my little brother, and it’s something to do instead of hanging around the wrong people," Greer said.
Dijion Bowie, 26, of North Philly, already has a small business going with his art.
"I draw people’s portraits for money. I’ve been drawing since I was a kid. Whatever I see, I can put it on paper. I can imitate it," said Bowie, who awaits trial on a drug case.
Now Bowie thinks he’s learning how to express his inner thoughts and emotions better through art. He’s trying to channel those emotions in a positive way.
"When I feel a certain type of emotion, I draw better," he said. "My moods determine how well I draw."
Reeder, too, thinks he still has time to improve himself and become a contributor to society. Before getting into trouble, he attended college. He’d like to get back on that track eventually.
"Everybody knows where they went wrong," he said. "It’s the correction and change that makes a better person."
He sees art as a way to start building a personal legacy.
"When I heard about the Mural Arts Program (in prison), I thought of being a part of something," Reeder said. "Paintings in here or on the outside, they’re going to last pretty long. I want to feel like I accomplished something." ••
Reporter William Kenny can be reached at 215-354-3031 or bkenny@phillynews.com