Articles

Covering a City’s Potholes with Art

by Kate Sierzputowski on May 14, 2014

Jim Bachor in his home studio (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

Jim Bachor in his home studio (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

CHICAGO — Inspired by trips to Italy’s ancient ruins in the 1990s, Jim Bachor creates mosaics of what he sees as modern civilization’s take on religion and the eternal: Cheetos, packaged meats, and Lindsay Lohan — greasy bits of Americana preserved in glass. His portraits in grout point to our over-processed existence. Recently, however, the former advertising designer has become more practical with his chosen form, taking it to the worn-down streets of Chicago to confront the city’s own type of ruin: the pothole.

Bachor's most recent and successful mosaic, branded with the serial number #316841 (click to enlarge)

Bachor’s most recent and successful mosaic, branded with the serial number #316841 (click to enlarge)

Bachor began his personal public-works project to repair potholes with mosaics in the summer of 2013. Starting by his home in the northwest Chicago neighborhood of Mayfair, Bachor sectioned off work zones with his twin sons’ miniature orange soccer cones. Within the last year the artist has graduated to industrial-sized cones and a bright reflective vest, which increase Bachor’s visibility — yet a common passerby would likely mistake the artist for doing roadwork, not artwork. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that the cement and mosaic-tiled potholes bear an obvious resemblance to the Chicago flag, a way for the artist to brand the road ruins as a city institution. “It was kind of like stating the obvious,” Bachor said in a conversation with Hyperallergic. “A way to say, ‘This is a Chicago pothole, dammit!’” Bachor riffs on the red, white, and blue flag by filling its center with either the word “POTHOLE” or a random serial number. “The fake serial numbers are a joke, a comment on the number of potholes there actually are in Chicago,” said Bachor.

The artist was originally drawn to mosaic work because of his fascination with the permanence of the art form. “It’s hard to make your mark in this world, he said. “My boys aren’t going to be building me a pyramid or anything like that. Mosaics are one of the few techniques that can really survive.” Bachor has experimented with different materials and locations to ensure that his mosaic pothole covers survive as best as possible: he’s learned that the pieces can’t be too large and must be situated far away from other holes; his first piece was nearly swallowed by a neighboring pothole. Even with planning, the mosaics are ultimately at the mercy of unpredictability.

Bachor stands with his first pothole mosaic outside his home in Chicago's Mayfair neighborhood.

Bachor stands with his first pothole mosaic outside his home in Chicago’s Mayfair neighborhood.

Although Bachor was at first hesitant to associate his name with the public-works project, for fear of getting in trouble with the city, he’s now been awarded a commission by the Chicago Transit Authority. He’s also hoping to expand the pothole covers to prime locations downtown. His next design will incorporate local car repair shop phone numbers, something both practical and a bit mysterious to add to his pieces’ already rogue appearance.

Bachor has attempted to keep all of his pothole works approximately the same size to minimize cost, but even at 16 x 22 inches, they cost about $50 each to make. He doesn’t skimp on materials, though — he uses Murano glass in all of his pieces — and he works in the old-fashioned double reverse, or Ravenna, method. Cost is currently the reason he’s sticking to the simple Chicago-branded designs, but one day he dreams of creating pothole works more closely aligned with the detailed portraits found in his studio.

A mosaic in the works in Bachor's studio

A mosaic in the works in Bachor’s studio

Two finished Chicago-themed mosaics waiting for potholes

Two finished mosaics waiting for potholes

One of Bachor's mosaics that has been nearly swallowed by its neighboring potholes and cement fill-ins

One of Bachor’s mosaics that has been nearly swallowed by its neighboring potholes and cement fill-ins.

A pothole mosaic of Bachor's that's cracked with the weather

A pothole mosaic of Bachor’s that’s cracked with the weather

Bachor in his studio

Bachor in his studio

Jim Bachor’s mosaic commission for the Chicago Transit Authority will be installed at the Thorndale Red Line stop this summer.

  • Subscribe to the Hyperallergic email newsletter!

Hyperallergic welcomes comments and a lively discussion, but comments are moderated after being posted. For more details please read our comment policy.
  • http://transportnexus.com/ Ryan Richter

    This is exactly the kind of local initiatives that make cities and communities great and interesting places.

  • Adriana J.Garces

    I agree, the initiative he took upon his City is both commendable and rewarding. Cheers to you Bachor! New York can use some of that kind of craftsmanship, as well. Who knows? ^_~

  • Ramon S

    Toynbee Tiles knock off.

    • Kristen Hiemstra

      While there may be no original thought in the world, it is a strength of contemporary art to re-frame and re-question what has come before. The medium and execution may be similar, but the reason and artist are new.

      • Ramon S

        The opening line reads, “Inspired by trips to Italy’s ancient ruins in the 1990s”. I don’t think it’s an interpretation, I think it’s a regurgitation and to mislead the people interested by saying it’s inspired by somewhere it isn’t is called a lie. I could be wrong, but look up the tiles and have a look for yourself. It’s nice work, but it’s just annoying to see people not give credit where credit is due, lying, and making a profit off of it.

    • KC Kasem

      Here’s a quote from the Toynbee Tiles wikipedia page: ‘Some of the more elaborate tiles also feature cryptic political statements or exhort readers to create and install similar tiles of their own’. I highly doubt the creator of the tiles would be mad about this man’s work. In fact, I think they would love it.

Previous post:

Next post: