To Build and Walk Away:The Pruitt-Igoe Myth

Pruitt-Igoe contained an amount of negative space that once witnessed and understood evoked feelings of dread. I didn't know I was looking at the Pruitt-Igoe apartment complex when first watching the segment in Koyaanisqatsi in which a series of unkempt apartment complexes are shown in sweeping areal shots. I had seen large apartment buildings before, nothing seemed awry. When the shots come in closer, and it was apparent that the buildings were lifeless empty shells, the horror becomes clear. Every window was broken, like there was an effort put into Pruitt-Igoe's special appearance: just enough damage to convey everything bad in this world, while still being able to stand. How could this have happened? It was like a carcass lying in the open. 

Before it was demolished in the 1970s, Pruitt-Igoe was supposed to be a turning point in the socioeconomic heath of St. Louis, MO. A modern public housing project conceived during the 1950s that would provide low-income families with apartments that were dream homes compared to the slums they were familiar with. It consisted of 33 11-story apartment buildings, which was one of the largest complexes in the USA at the time. It was advertised as a utopia, or more realistically, a clean civilized place that would promote idealist white civilized behavior, or even more realistically, a place to segregate the poor black population; a band-aid.

The St. Louis government paid for the construction, but failed to pay for the upkeep of a massive ecosystem they didn't understand. The documentary The Pruitt-Igoe Myth, directed by Chad Freidrichs, investigates the factors that lead to the devastation; a problem even larger than the original slums they were trying to eradicate.

The Pruitt-Igoe Myth uses heartbreaking footage of the apartments as well as interviews with former tenants. It is shocking how disparate their memories of Pruitt Igoe are; from the joys of their first Christmas out of the slums, to family members brutally murdered in the playground. The intentions of the St. Louis housing authority begin to get hazy as the film goes on. Some who are interviewed described the complex as a prison. Living in Pruitt-Igoe was supposed to be an opportunity, but it came with a price. There were regulations that prohibited "able-bodied husbands" from living there, effectively breaking up families so wives and their children could qualify to live there. Telephones and televisions were prohibited also. All of this lead to overwhelming feelings of isolation. And while young children were taught to fear the white men in suits who regularly checked homes to be sure their fathers were appropriately absent, there was a total lack of regulation in keeping the buildings safe from criminals, fire, and filth. It was doomed from the start to keep everything good out and drag complete negativity in, until it literally had to be imploded.

Style Wars

Just as a disclaimer, I know it can be annoying to watch full-length movies on YouTube. Rarely are they in one piece, and good luck if you can find all of parts 1 of 8 in a logical order. Don't fret, because for your viewing pleasure, I found the full length version of the 1984 documentary, Style Wars.  Directed by Tony Silver, Style Wars follows the graffiti culture of New York City during the early 1980s. The film has a gritty, 70's quality to it, some of it shot in black and white.  If you like Midnight Cowboy, Taxi Driver, and other movies about NYC before it got cleaned-up, this is for you. It is apparent that everyone is just trying to deal with this chaotic environment. The upright citizens bemoan the graffiti on the trains and lump the graffiti artists with other criminals, while the artists defend their craft, and paint whenever possible despite efforts against them. It is apparent that both sides are victims of their society. 

While some of the graffiti is impressive and obviously took a lot of skill to execute, I do think the young taggers for the most part were unwittingly sustaining the broken windows theory: basically if you leave a broken window, then crimes escalating in severity will be committed. The interviews with the young graffiti artists are eye-opening. These boys between the ages of 12 and 20 are well-spoken, and have strong beliefs in their art. It's amazing to hear them talk about why they tag, how they are building names for themselves.

Shots of the train yards at night are chilling. It's a place most people don't see, but the graffiti artists are very familiar with it. At one point an extremely panoramic shot of a fabulously painted subway train moves across the screen for about 2 minutes. As a photographer I am still a bit baffled at how they got the shot without any visible breaks in the image. Style Wars is beautifully filmed, a worth while exploration.