Homestead

Out with the old, and in with the new. Nowhere in Pittsburgh is the adage more applicable than at the Waterfront, a mill town turned “mall town.” This growing shopping and entertainment complex continues to attract many loyal patrons. Meanwhile, only a few parking spots away, history hangs in the air like the sooty fog that once permeated every crevice of the neighborhood.

How do the people in the old Homestead fare in relation to the new Homestead? What exactly are we losing, both on our main streets and deep within our psyche, as we witness the closing of so many small businesses that were at the heart of twentieth century “community?” What are we gaining—and how might people assert their individuality in places that symbolize and even promote homogeneity?

These are the kinds of issues that Carnegie Mellon professors Charlee Brodsky, Jim Daniels, and Jane McCafferty set out to explore through their collaboration on Homestead, a project that combines photographs (by Brodsky) of both the old and new Homesteads with poetry (by Daniels and McCafferty) inspired by the photos. To date, Homestead has been seen only in exhibition, but a book is planned.

Flag Shadows

Flag Shadows
Will remain
Long after the flags are gone

They are spirits
They crave dancing

And entrance into another world.

But this world will have to do.

You sweep, you paint,
You patch, tile, scrape and scrub,
You water the plant
And say to yourself

“Ricky would be fifty-one now.”

You are commendable.
The way your body goes on caring
Creating this beautiful order
War after war.

—Jane McCafferty

6/5/4/3/2/1

Perhaps they’re contestants in a game show or beauty contest or race. Perhaps it’s

a musical instrument. Or a sexy toy.
Maybe a buzzer-family thrown

together by circumstance or convenience.
No. They’re just residents

in cheap apartments. Cheap owner
using old paint. Imagine

painting those numbers, struggling
with the curves. Straight lines?

No problem. Imagine rinsing out
the brush. Imagining collecting the rent.

Imagine what it’s like inside.
Imagine holding the key to that door.

Getting buzzed in. Buzzed out.

—Jim Daniels

Marlboro Man

If you can tell me why you’re still hanging around here with
your lasso,

I will marry you, Mister Marlboro Man, and you could paint
my old house blue,

The one with the sad view of the river,

And my brother Leo will come back as a smoking ghost

To burn a few holes in your jeans,

And the rest of the country will go down on its knees,

Singing praises to your mean face for trying so hard to feel
nothing.

We don’t blame ya.

—Jane McCafferty

Homestead

Flag Shadows

6/5/4/3/2/1

Marlboro Man

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