海角大神

In downtown Los Angeles, absurdity interrupts urban blight: A fire hydrant sprouts stockinged legs; a winged telephone leaps from a phone booth; a mailbox towers, inaccessible, over passersby.聽

The city鈥檚 historic business district and surrounding neighborhoods are the backdrop for contemporary street artist S.C. Mero, who sees opportunity in a landscape dogged by disappointment and deferred dreams. The Minnesota native embraced the area, known as DTLA, after graduating from the University of Southern California (USC) a decade ago. Today, her rogue聽installations are part of downtown鈥檚 creative fabric 鈥撀燼nd local authorities are in on it. She鈥檚 been honored by the city for her contributions to the Skid Row neighborhood and commissioned by the nearby Fashion District to decorate a median at an intersection.

Transformation governs her art. Ms. Mero鈥檚 first pieces were mosaics made of pennies which she altered with heat, dye, and tools. Other projects reshape abandoned spaces into commentaries on politics and humanity.聽

Her work insists on hope, which she describes as rebellious. 鈥淭o put something like cute little turtles on a median with downtown the way it is, it鈥檚 resisting something, right? It鈥檚 resisting the default, which is to be negative,鈥� says Ms. Mero.

The Monitor spoke with Ms. Mero at聽Something Poetic, her venue for performance art. The space, offered to her during the pandemic by the聽Historic聽Core Business Improvement District, has become a聽hub聽for local artists.聽The conversation has been edited for clarity and length.聽

Why downtown? You joined an artist collective on Skid Row after graduating from USC. I鈥檓 guessing there were other options.聽

I think my mom asked me the same question all the time. I just feel like it鈥檚 a good fit for what I鈥檓 doing. It鈥檚 really a creative vortex. ... You have the Arts District, the Flower District, the Fashion District, Little Tokyo, you have the Industrial District, the Financial District.聽And maybe that鈥檚 typical of most cities, but I feel like there鈥檚 a lot happening here and it鈥檚 good for cultivating ideas.聽

I鈥檝e just felt like I want to see it through, too. Look at these [historic, vacant] buildings. I think this could come back to life and they鈥檙e not there yet. So I want to be part of that transition.聽

How do you keep tapping into that hope?

I have a lot of faith. I just feel like I鈥檓 in constant communication with a higher power, whatever created me. And a lot of my work is in communication with that constantly. I鈥檒l be walking around and I鈥檒l hear, I don鈥檛 want to say a voice, but something like, 鈥淧ay attention to that. Pay attention to this.鈥� It鈥檚 this relationship that I have with the neighborhood, but also a higher power. And I feel like the more that you commit to it, the more it continues to give to you. I just keep listening.聽

You look at a pothole, you look at something breaking down around you, and you see whimsy and light. How does that happen?聽

Because nobody cares about it anymore. It鈥檚 free game, right? Nobody鈥檚 going to stop you from really, truly doing anything on a pay phone right now, or a newspaper stand, or 鈥� in certain areas 鈥� a pothole. Like a penny 鈥� you can pick it up and you can play with it, because it鈥檚 in that state of decay. It has a lot of opportunity to take it in a new direction. And you鈥檙e not going to get a lot of resistance or pushback. To do anything to it, people are like, 鈥極h, you know, it鈥檚 better than what was there.鈥櫬�

What do you want people to take away from your art?聽

I feel like wanting people to take away something is in a way thinking that I want something from them 鈥� a certain reaction or a certain whatever. And because it gives me so much, I鈥檓 thankful that they are even allowing me to do it. So the fact that their reaction is positive, I鈥檓 just even more grateful for that 鈥撀爄t makes it a little easier to be able to keep doing it. So I don鈥檛 know if I want a certain reaction from people. I just hope that they can find something that they do that they love as much as what I鈥檓 doing.聽

Is there a theme or an idea that pulses through your work?

Yes. At first I didn鈥檛 really see it. I feel like a lot of my work is reactionary and intuitive. I grew up playing sports and it feels very much like that, just responding to the environment and making an art piece, not trying to overthink it. At first when I was doing the penny [mosaics] and then I was doing the start of my indoor work and outdoor work, I felt like maybe I should do one and not the other one. But I started to realize that they are communicating the same idea, which is the age-old idea of spiritual growth and transformation. And I think that that鈥檚 evident in a lot of my work 鈥� the whole idea that something can lose its identity or lose its value, but then come back even stronger.聽

A lot of my work is critical of our government, but I still maintain hope that there is a better way. It speaks to the truth because it鈥檚 not really about a payphone or a penny. We鈥檙e no different than that, right? Something is that way, but it can be better. What does it take for that to happen? It takes a belief, for one. It鈥檚 not going to get better by not thinking or imagining or seeing it that way.聽

What is the relationship between your work and the downtown community?

They鈥檙e as much of a part of it as I am. It鈥檚 that we鈥檙e-in-this-together kind of vibe. Whether they like the piece or not, they get it because they鈥檝e seen that pothole. They鈥檝e seen a payphone like that, or they鈥檝e walked by this or that. So it has that sense of camaraderie, I think. I hope it does.