Interview: Marshall Walker Lee

At the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) conference in Denver this week, I ran into a bunch of former classmates from the University of Arizona MFA program. I spoke with one who heard of my interest in Detroit and referred me to speak with Marshall Walker Lee at the "Poor Claudia" literary journal table in the book fair. Among other things, Marshall grew up in Detroit, studied at the University of Michigan, worked for an arts organization in various rural locales in South Africa, and helped start a well-regarded literary journal in Portland, Oregon. Detroit Ho! recently decided to start interviewing people with expertise on Detroit and/or the process of establishing a creative community, and Marshall is our first "expert" in this series. Oh wait... I can't disregard Spike Lee... Marshall is the second expert. And the second Lee.

Detroit Ho!: What exactly is the arts scene in Detroit right now?

Marshall Walker Lee: One of my best friends in Detroit works for an organization called "Inside/Out," which is something that Detroit Public Schools (DPS) are doing to bring artists and writers into middle and high school classrooms. The literary and art scene has really taken off since the opening of Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit (MOCAD), which is in the shadow of the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA). It's an artist run co-op with concerts and arts programming. When my older sister moved to Detroit after going to the University of Michigan, nobody from her class moved to Detroit. But when I graduated six or seven years later, around fifty people from my class ended up moving there. It is cheap to live there, and abandoned spaces make everything guerilla. There are huge non-profit grants to lure young white artists from the suburbs. Last year, there was a $25,000 grant for photography. This year it's for writing. Everybody is applying for it.

DH: Damn...

MWL: Because it is dirt cheap you can do so much there with practically nothing. You can start a restaurant with a full liquor license for something like $60,000. But there is no infrastructure to maintain it. I love the idea of living there except for the winters. And there is always a necessity to drive. But the city attracts self-motivated artists who don't need to rely on an institution or school system to sustain them. I mean, Wayne State's radio station is shutting down. But twenty-five to thirty-year-olds work easily part time at a job, and part time at a non-profit or library program, with plenty of time to do their art. My friend's dating the co-director of the city's NPR station.

DH: How long has this all been going on?

MWL: I think the city has been building toward a new beginning since the opening of the Renaissance Center in what, 1977? But they've been waiting for the right mayor and legislature to bring this about. It seems like Dave Bing may finally get things done. He is aiming to cut the footprint of the city in half. One of the best proposals being considered now is that they build a green belt around the city, but that probably won't pass. So they are trying to move one neighborhood at a time to the city-- which is what they have to do. And it's now or never. If the auto industry leaves completely, it'll be like Berlin in the 1980's. It will have to start over again.

DH: So what all is going on art-wise, specifically?

MWL: My friends do something called "Theatre Bizarre." A bunch of artists go to the state fairgrounds, which have been abandoned. And for one night they turn on all the rides, and it's like Mardi Gras for one day. It's this burlesque carnival.

DH: What are your thoughts on gentrification as it relates to Detroit? Does it have to have the same effect as has been the case in Brooklyn and Portland?

MWL: It's strange to say this about gentrification, but in Detroit the areas least gentrified are the ones shutting down completely. Because they are 50-70% unoccupied. In east Detroit, 20% of the areas are unoccupied and they've turned into an urban prairie land, which people are romanticizing. But there are wild dogs roaming around. You have to go out with a baseball bat.

DH: Tell me about the work you did in South Africa.

MWL: Well, I'd gotten a grant to go there and write. And eventually I ended up doing work with this bookbinding press about 40 miles outside of Johannesburg. Between Durban and Johannesburg. The CreACTive Center. I worked with a woman named Gabisile Nkosi, who is a pretty famous South African artist who grew up in a township and really made herself. She built her own house and her life from just doing her art. But she was killed by her ex-husband. It was really horrible. She died just after I left.













She helped set up centers around the country in rural bush schools to teach classes to kids and adults in practical crafts. Things like teaching weaving to women, bookbinding for record keeping. It was part of Caversham Press, which was started under apartheid. It was the first printmaking press for both blacks and whites-- "open," they call it. Some major names in the South African art scene came out of there.

DH: What was it like?

MWL: It was a positive experience for me because of who I was with.

DH: What exactly did you end up doing?

MWL: I was able to teach and develop programming. They were a kind of medium for me to understand what was going on culturally. One thing we did was, if we were there for two or three days, we'd ask people to establish a community newspaper. They had to go home, write a story, and illustrate it. One kid went home and asked his grandmother for a story he didn't know. And she told him about the time his grandfather had beaten her so badly he broke her eye socket. When he came back and told us, all the other kids just nodded. I mean, every Saturday you go to funerals. There is something like a 90% AIDS rate in rural east South Africa. Johannesburg is kind of like Detroit in some ways.

DH: What you're saying reminds me of an NPR story I once heard about funerals being a kind of recreational activity in Detroit. That kind of culture of violence. What else do Detroit and Johannesburg have in common?

MWL: They are both sparsely populated. Land laws are such that residences, businesses and factories can all be in the same place. But Johannesburg is also unique. It's the only major city with no body of water. It was built because of the gold deposits, and it has no sense of itself. It's much more violent. It's not really a city. I've heard that in the next 20 years, it will join with Pretoria to make a city of 55 million people.

DH: Where will Detroit be in 20 years?

MWL: It's possible that it is going to die before it gets better. There is just such an endemic lack of government. So much corruption. It may have to fall apart. And perhaps young people might move there and form a resistance. Already, everyone under thirty living in Detroit is really involved in politics. Everyone knows the name of the president of the school board. You have to be involved or you'll feel powerless.

DH: So when did you start "Poor Claudia"?

MWL: It's one year old.

DH: And you are a printmaker?

MWL: No, both Drew (co-founder) and I are just lit nerds. I'm a writer. We just taught ourselves this stuff.







Marshall, Gabisile and the people/organizations he described are an excellent example of what my friend Daisy has deemed "Nouveau DIY:" a new phase in the era of "Do-it-Yourself." With a motivation that goes beyond redoing the living room... Watch out TLC.

For more info on Poor Claudia, check out this article from the Portland Mercury.