Art and My City

What is your definition of art?

Is it a world premiere musical?
Is it a movie festival?
Is it a street with a view?
Is it a museum opening?
Is it a 92 year old building lit up with flowers?
Is it a giant transformer?

It's all happening in Pittsburgh.

Pittsburgh, like many cities, is a city that can not be easily defined. The next out-of-towner that comes up to me and lets me know that "Pittsburgh isn't that bad" will be hearing an ear-full. They won't deserve it. They'll mean well. They'll be complementing the city in their own way. But would you walk into someone's home and say: "Gee. This house isn't that bad."? I didn't think so. Pittsburgh is my house, my home, my life. I chose to be here. It's definitely not "that bad." And it pisses me off that people think it is.

And I promise if I ever make it to Cleveland or Youngstown or Buffalo or Topeka, Kansas, and I go to a hip coffee shop or watch a band in a funky venue or admire some striking piece of public art, I won't say: "Gee. Your city actually doesn't suck." Instead, I'll inwardly appreciate it and let my friends at home know: "Wow. Clevetowno is a fun place to visit."

For the record, rural Arkansas is that bad, and Nashville is a fun place to visit.