C Drew - Street Artist Adventures

I went downtown to visit the IRS to get help with my taxes. I also wanted to print somewhere and give away my art in the loop, so I took my suitcase. On the way downtown I decided to shoot some snapshots on the El for this blog. When I turned on my Nikon Coolpix 5400, I found the display filled with wavy lines and unrecognizable warped shapes. Something in the electronics of the camera had gone wrong. Later, I learned it was the CCD sensor chip and that this is a common problem with digital cameras. Now I need to buy a new camera to continue to maintain my blog. How would I find the money for this, I wondered?

Once downtown, as I approached Dearborn and Jackson Streets, a black sedan with siren screaming ripped around the corner from Jackson just as a man in a suit and tie dashed from the Dirkson Federal Court Building. The sedan braked to a stop in the middle of the street and the driver flung open the door. The official leapt into the open door of the sedan. It disappeared down Dearborn siren wailing into the distance.

As I crossed Dearborn I tried to decide if I should get help from the IRS or print my art first. The sedan’s siren reminded me of all the 9/11 hype and the oppressive attitudes that our foreign policies have brought down on us. With all the stuff I had with me, my suitcase and a leather bag, I could only imagine the problem I would have trying to get through the security check to the upper floors of the Federal Office Building. This helped me to decide to print instead. I walked across the Federal Building Plaza looking for the best place to exercise my free speech rights. The best place would be where the newspapers were sold or offered for free. On the SE corner of Clark and Adams - east of the crosswalk I found the paper stands along the curb. I put my folded blanket on the ground next to the last paper stand as a cushion to sit on and setup to print facing the corner. In front of me along the curb was a fire hydrant. Positioned thusly, I was completely out of the way of foot traffic. On the corner an elderly man panhandled for spare change. He had his first amendment rights. I wanted mine.

The noon time traffic hurried to and fro. They glanced quickly but had little time to stop and chat. It became obvious that I was a unexpected sight in this location and few were conditioned to interrupt their stride to see what I was up to. A Dunbar armoured truck waiting for the light blew its hot exhaust from its air conditioning unit on my leg, blowing my printed patches on the pavement around before rolling on when the light changed. A man in his late forties stopped to talk. He told me about a website - antiwarart.com and described some of the art on that site. I gave him a patch. He wanted to give me some money but I told him to send us a donation because we do not have free speech in the Loop of Chicago. Four high school kids stopped and eagerly accepted patches. A working lady in her mid-thirties stopped and gleefully took a patch, a pin and said she was going to put it right on. Just as responses began to pick up, the nose of a patrol car crept into my view. I heard the red-faced officer say something but it didn’t register. Puzzled, I looked up at him from printing. “I said I called in on you.” He stated again.

“I’m the same thing as these” I said reaching around to point at the news boxes to my back. I’m giving this art away.”

You will go to jail, too” he said as the light changed.

He drove off. I kept printing. Imagine that, illegal to give art away on the streets of Chicago. Well, I thought, I have to draw the line somewhere. I was angry enough to go to jail. Restaurants can give away menus, tobacco companies can give away cigarrettes, Wrigley can give away gum but I can’t give away speech in the land of the not-quite-free. I continued to print believing that this could not be true. He just might be bluffing, too, I considered.

There was a break between responses. I explored printing the three colors red, yellow, blue - in the screen at an angle. The patches were piling up. The ink mixed beautifully, especially on the pastel flowered cotton patches. The art calmed me. People began to respond again. I became more certain he was bluffing. The old man still stood in the pedestrian path collecting money. He was getting paid while I had only my bus fare home and this I had brought out with me. I was losing money. Forty-five minutes had passed since the cop had threatened me with arrest. My pile of prints was tall. I needed to get on with my day. Not being able to raise funds to survive from my art activity meant I had to spend my time to look for other means of making a living. This is the very reason that the courts state that charging for speech can not be an issue in denying a person their speech rights. If the Chicago Tribune, a wealthy corporation, can not afford to give away their speech, then how could a broke artist afford to give it away without the support of other income. Obviously, if I can not afford to give my speech away, I lose my speech right when denied the ability to charge for it. The old man was still panhandling, confronting people as they crossed the street, when I rolled my suitcase on my way home. I felt no malice toward him. I just wanted my rights to sell my peace art.

The Daley Center should be a place I can sell my work but today I wanted to give it away. I will be testing many locations in the Loop as viable free speech locations where an artist should be able to sell their work at. I will give it away to avoid arrest by those denying us our rights. This will demonstrate that I am not blocking traffic or causing a public safety hazard. When we do go to court we will have a long list of locals to show where and when our rights are violated.
This day no one hassled me. It was quiet. I printed with little disturbance.
Just across the Plaza with a straight line view of me is the Security hut. My every move was observed. If later I ever print an image that disturbs the authorities they can not say they do not allow me to give away my art in this location. I was watched. The Federal courts say there is no difference between giving speech away and selling it. See this link for the complete court ruling - 7th Circuit finds for Weinberg and artists.

I called the 1st precinct to tell them I would be vending at Michigan and Balboe just as Greg Adams from the Department of Business Affairs said I should. The man who answered said that due to the Lollapalooza different police would be on duty. The Lollapalooza was my excuse to test out my free speech rights as an artist once again in the City of Chicago. The Lollapalooza is a corporate sponsored three day music festival hosted at Grant Park. The fees the park district charges its tax paying citizens to organize festivals allows mainly deep pocketed promoters to mount events. This is another limitation on the peoples right to assembly and speech.

The Peace and Weed Festival has had great difficulty organizing its annual event in City parks for this and other political reasons. Hopefully some of those organizers will post their experiences with Chicago’s parks here. Corporations whose rights are modeled on the rights of the individual citizen are able to afford to use the public parks while those citizens whose rights they claim and who pay the majority of the taxes for the parks are not as able to use them. How artists are treated by the Chicago Park District is of great interest to me. I would like to read posts by other artists regarding their experiences in Chicago’s parks.

The Red line carried me down to Harrison and State Street where I rolled my art filled luggage to Balboe and Michigan. This spot interested me because the popular nightclub, “The Hothouse: was located very close and this left-leaning venue would attract a crowd sympathetic to my peace patches. It was very windy at that intersection. For some reason I was under the impression my “free speech corner” was the Southwest corner of Michigan and Balboe. As I approached that intersection I saw the park across Michigan Avenue and the Hilton Hotel on the Southwest corner. It was not likely that the City had negotiated with the court to allow free speech on the Hilton Hotel corner but that was the SW corner. I informed the traffic policewoman that I had a permit to vend at this spot. She was busy managing traffic and encouraging those heading east to the Lollapalooza to cross on the north side of the street. She shrugged and said “ok” when I informed her of my intentions. It appeared that it was not her job to regulate the venders.

I set-up under a window of the Hilton Hotel cafe and began printing a patch, “Wisdom is more powerful than all the Weapons of War”. The wind was a challenge. After numerous adjustments to keep my blanket from blowing over flipping patches and t-shirts around, I was able to print with great concentration and difficulty. This was not a bad spot except for the wind. I could make a presence known here over a month’s time, I decided while printing. Then, a policewoman on a segway rolled up and informed me that “there is no vending in the Loop.”

I informed her I had a license to sell speech at this location. I handed her my peddler’s license.

“This says Balboe and Columbus Drive,” she said pointing out the fine type. She was right. I would have to move three blocks further east from the Loop. On a normal day this puts me into a no-man’s-land deep in Grant park where little foot traffic exists. Tonight it brought me closer to the Lollapalooza which just might be a better position for sales, I thought. This mitigated the anger I felt at being removed from a location that I knew was not endangering public safety or blocking traffic.

As I packed my patches into my luggage carrier, I noticed a man in his late thirties dressed in business suit sitting just inside the window of the Hilton cafe sipping coffee. He smiled a satisfied smile and waved. He reminded me of the manager of Hersheys who had called the police on me further north on Michigan Avenue. I nodded and smiled a weary smile.

I crossed Michigan Avenue on the North side of the street because the south sidewalk was blocked off this evening. My designated spot is closer to the event but my hope that it would be a better place soon proved to be wrong. At this time, about 6:00 PM the low sun was mostly blocked by park trees and I noticed the wind was much less than on Michigan Avenue for some reason. This was all good. However, almost all the traffic walked on the opposite side of the street. Metal barriers discouraged people from passing by me. I was isolated by the way the City had set this up.

This day was one of the few days any significant traffic was likely to be passing my way and 90% of it was across the street. Of the 10% that passed me by - half of that were people working various jobs related to clean up or had nothing to do with the event. I was effectively isolated and the result of the evening reflected this plainly. Across the street where most of the traffic flowed there was plenty of room to set-up without disturbing traffic. In no way was this location an “ample alternative” as the Appeals Court ruling required to the City to provide us.

I sat and considered my options. The City regulations say that up to five speech-vendors can occupy this location. There was plenty of room for many more - especially given the way the police isolated it. Maybe if I could organize four more artists to occupy spots here during events we could create a scene. We could pass out fliers and encourage people to step out of their way to visit us I dreamed. That did not seem like an easy thing to do at this point. A study in the behavior of the crowd herding toward the rock music suggested great difficulty. The business mantra of “location-location-location” definitely applied here. I was in the wrong location. These rockers were marching toward the best seat they could find with a set mind. They sought the soonest sight of their favorite group. To draw them out of their way across a street and around a metal barrier was highly unlikely.

Are these events even worth my time, I wondered as I watched the continuous crowd heading into the festival across the street? Could I even turn their heads and expect them to stop to look at what I was doing? Later, watching the crowd of people leaving the event across the street, having sold only $3 worth of patches in three hours and having given away only 15 patches, isolated as I was in the shadow of thousands of people, I was discouraged. I decided to give away my patches on Saturday evening just to have the opportunity to find out if the location across the street was better than here.

SATURDAY
The El train at 6:30 PM was crowded. I was very glad I packed for the first time my small luggage with just my screens, four sample t-shirts and patches with a few designs in quantitiy to give away. I had a flyer prepared to give out inviting the public to help artists gain our free speech rights. It announced this blog and how I was prevented from selling my speech. This will be my first test to see if the police will allow me to occupy a spot to print and give my art away. Naturally, my wife asked me not to get arrested. I laughed. My intention is not to be but that is not necessarily under my control. I have prepared for that event if it does occur. I need photos documenting this experiment for my blog. The act of taking photos as I am talking with the police is the touchy action. It must be done and it is my right to take photos. This right I can not compromise.

I am heading home. Now I’m excited. That was not the case when I walked across the Congress Avenue Bridge to Michigan Avenue. I had not even been able to give many of my patches away trapped in my “Free Speech jail” at Balboe and Columbus.

At 7:00 I tried to setup across the street from my spot where the foot traffic was. I began giving away my patches and printing new ones to attract the public. They responded. I had a steady stream of takers as soon as I put out my free patch sign. In 15 minutes after I arrived a stern senior officer arrived to insist that I had to leave immediately. He said the free speech area was north five blocks at Jackson and Columbus and that there were others selling marijuana t-shirts there. I said I was just giving away my patches and not selling. He claimed the public safety excuse saying when the event ended in an hour there would be tens of thousands of people over-running where I sat and for my safety I had to move now. It was just after 7:00.

Art that point I showed him my license and asked if I was in the correct o al. His stern tone turned to politeness and he happily directed me across the street where I had died the night before. Once over there I printed for several hours with little response from the sparse traffic. I could sell in this spot but was not even able to give patches away to the indifferent few who passed. By the time I left at 10:00 I still had not seen the dangerous rush of people the policeman had predicted to occur around nine o’clock. It may have happened later but I had to leave before I could document it.

I walked north to Congress Avenue and turned west crossing the bridge to Michigan Avenue depressed. As I crossed Michigan Avenue I saw a man selling openly the official T-shirt of Lollapalooza. I stopped and pondered this. Why could the event organizers sell their merchandise and I could not sell my free speech? I shot his picture. When I talked to him he said there were others selling t-shirt up and down Michigan Avenue. Then, I saw on the other side of Congress a woman selling bottled water. That did it. I spread out my blanket and began to print and sell, too. I made sure I was out of the way of traffic. As soon as I setup I had buyers. I sold eight dollars worth of patches in ten minutes and then a policeman arrived on a bike and ordered me to pack up or else. I claimed my free speech rights. He said I was selling. I said my 1st Amendment rights allowed me to sell speech as long as I did not block traffic or endanger the public. He said pack up or go to jail. I said, remembering my wife’s request, “OK, I’ll pack up.”

I had to clean the ink out of my screen. As I did so people kept coming trying to buy patches. I told them the police were denying me my free speech rights. They would only allow me to give away the art. I handed each person the flier I made up to announce my blog and told them how they could do something to change Chicago’s policy. Before I left several people promised they would do something about this. I was re-invigorated by their response. I knew now I could organize in Chicago by this method.

I took the Red Line to the Loop and then lugged my bags to the Blue Line. At the Damen Street stop I got off at Wicker Park. The El allowed me to read further into the Mark G. Weinberg v. City of Chicago. The 7th Circuit Court of Appeals decision is deep! (see links for details) In very short summary - Weinberg, a lawyer and author, sold his book critical of the Blackhawk’s (hockey) team owner out in front of the stadium (United Center) where the Blackhawks play.

The owner called the police on him. Weinberg sued for his First Amendment (free speech) rights. He maintained that his right to offer his speech freely to hockey fans, his target audience, as they entered the stadium, was infringed upon. He eventually won at the appellate level. The City of Chicago, urged on by major league sports owners, attempted to appeal the 7th Circuit Court’s decision (in Weinberg’s favor) to the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court passed on the case letting the Appeals Court’s ruling stand.

Naturally, my interest in this case is in what it tells me about my rights. I am an artist screen printing political-slogan patches and my art for sale in public venues. My other goal is to open up more opportunities for artists to legally sell their art in Chicago. My strategy is to study the laws relating to art peddling and free speech. While selling or giving away my patches, I intend to explore how I am treated when I try to use our free speech rights granted to us by the Constitution of the United States of America. You are invited to read along to experience how free we are in Chicago, home of the brave - land of the free.

I am not a lawyer and I am not giving legal advice. This is my present understanding of the law. I invite - no I beg - others to add to this discussion.

The First Amendment says that “Congress (and by extension - all state and local governments) shall make no law…abridging the freedom of speech or of the press.” In the decision of the appeals court Weinberg v. City of Chicago, are detailed a number of significant points about our free speech rights. It says that whether we sell or give away a book (or our art) does not change the First Amendment. Free speech is protected in traditional public forums. Public sidewalks are traditional public forums. I believe this should apply to public parks, as well.

The City uses traffic-control and public-safety to justify the need for licensing peddlers and for regulating where speech peddling can occur. The City must prove traffic or public-safety are real issues when it uses them for limiting free speech. If there is no traffic or public safety problem, the city has no right to limit my speech. The City must show that their methods are effective in meeting their goals. If they limit free speech and this does nothing to improve traffic or public safety, then why bother limiting our most precious right? Finally, the court stated that the City should not limit more speech than is necessary to accomplish their stated goals. The City did not show how Weinberg was a threat to public-safety or that he interfered with foot traffic in front of or around the United Center.

The other very interesting point that emerged from this decision is that the entire peddler’s license law is unconstitutional as it relates to free speech because it represents “a prior restraint upon speech,” or in lay terms - it allows the City to revoke a license without explanation.

As artists selling original art - our free speech rights should be as important as sports talk. Some Aldermen have added language to the City peddler’s license that forbids peddling anything anywhere in their ward. Others have exempted commercial strips, while the entire extended downtown of Chicago is listed as off limits to peddlers. The City tells us we can give speech away but not sell it. The court says whether giving it away or selling it, speech is protected the same. If the City wishes to abridge our rights in any of these traditional public forums it needs to prove that our speech is a traffic problem or is dangerous to public safety. It must show that limiting speech will solve the traffic or safety problem and that there is no better way of solving that traffic problem or safety issue. Of course, reality down on the street is not so pretty as our rights appear at the level of the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals. Travel with me on this hot day, 7/14/06.

At Wicker Park nothing was happening. The event I sought was on a previous weekend. I began improvising. Two hours later, exhausted, I spread my blanket out in the shade of the Water Tower Place, just off Michigan and Chicago Avenues. I had followed the rumor of a music fest downtown. After I had walked in a large circle and taken many rests from the heat, I took a bus on Michigan Avenue to the Water Tower Place park. I could go no further.

In the shade of the stone Water Tower, in the nook between the front steps with my back against its cool wall, I lay my blanket. What a relief to be out of the sun. I drank deeply from my water bottle. Then I set-up to print. My primary color ink containers I placed in the front for all to see, I selected red and blue to add to my screen. At first I just printed a patch design about Net-Neutrality. My plan was to find out if anyone would evict me from this spot before investing any of my waning energy in setting up a display. There was a steady flow of traffic past this point. People could stop and step in out of the way of others very easily. To those who stopped I gave freshly printed patches and chatted about net-neutrality. After 15 minutes of printing I spread out my patch designs and began to consider selling. I did not put out a sale sign or my t-shirts. In another five minutes of printing a young man dressed in black pants, white shirt, tie and a blue blazer jacket stepped out of the air conditioned Water Tower to approach me apologetically. “You have to go,” he said. “This is a public park and we do not allow peddling of any kind or street performances here.”

“What about my free speech rights? Isn’t a public park a public forum?”

“I don’t know anything about that. All I know is my job requires me to ask you to leave. You can go anywhere across the streets bounding this park but you can not stay on this park.”

“OK, I’m leaving but I want to take a few pictures first,” I said. “Do you mind?” He was already running back to the shelter of the Water Tower’s air conditioning. He had informed me. His next job as security would be to call the police. This I knew. I had yet to sell a patch.

A survey of my options identified the corner northwest across the street from the park to be the only sensible spot in the shade. In humid 90 degree heat I had to have shade. Compared to my previous spot, there was very little traffic but I could be seen printing there from the park. I began to carry my quickly packed bags and the screen with ink drying in it in the direction of that shady corner. Not wanting to leave any of my things too far behind I moved two bags 10-15 yards at a time and then came back with the screen and the other bag. At the end of a planter running parallel with the street bounding the Water Tower Park, I lay out my blanket. “Amazing, it must be the humidity!” I thought. It took ten minutes to move over to my new spot and yet the screen was still printing well. That was a blessing.

I did not spread out my patches or anything for sale. I printed and gave those who visited me the patches. I felt only trouble could be coming my way in this spot even though there was so little traffic at this location that the city could never claim traffic as an issue. Naturally, public safety could not be claimed as a reason to deny me my First Amendment rights without a hardy laugh to accompany it. Why, I shouldn’t even need a peddler’s license to sell my speech if the court’s law ruled this land.

I noticed that the Net-Neutrality slogan caught people asking with their eyes - what? I answered by asking if they had heard of the issue. Most had not. The Internet is being stolen from the people and the people do not even know their future online is being limited in the halls of Congress at this moment. I let people who would listen know that the major media are with the forces pushing to harness the Internet for their private profit and purposes while they find ways to legislate our Internet rights away. Beware - wake-up! It starts with making a fast and sure delivery for some priority e-mail and a slow/unsure delivery for other’s e-mails. It leads to paying the big pipe owners who can choke main arteries to slow some data and speed up priority data. It ends with carriers who restrict access to their subscribers and who determine audience winners and losers. It violates the very spirit of the Internet. Just as China is exploring ways to control the Internet, major companies in this nation are seeking a “pseudo market solution” to create a main-stream Internet presence that is within their control. Destroying the concept of net-neutrality is needed for these big companies to assure their control over us. They are trying to pass legislation before a majority of people know what is going on. This is the essence of my rant to those people who my screen print demonstration attracts.

Even though the traffic was less, I was easy to see. I heard people talking as they passed by. “He’s screen printing.”

“That’s screen printing.”

“Oh look, screen printing.”

Three Teenagers stopped to look closely. I gave them all patches. “No,” they all answer together. They did not know about the net-neutrality. I assured them their future media freedoms were at stake. A man in his twenties had heard of the issue but did not understand it. A woman with a small child stopped to accept a patch. She knew about net-neutrality. “Thank you for doing this,” she said, and pulling out her wallet she gave a dollar to her young daughter and whispered in her ear. The little girl came forward and held out the dollar. I took it and said thank you to her. She danced back to her mother. “Keep up the good work!” she called to me as they walked off.

When they left, a youth in a Hershey’s uniform dashed out to take a quick look at what I was doing and ran back to report to his manager. The tall arching glass panels allowed the people outside to see those inside enjoying Hershey’s chocolate in many forms in the frosty coolness and indulging in the luxurious surroundings. Not long after that while I was printing I noticed a policewoman on a two-wheeled rolling platform hovering over me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m screen Printing patches.”

“Are you selling them?”

“Right now, I’m giving them away. But, I’d like to sell them.

“You need a permit to sell them.”

“I have a permit - would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” she said. I pulled out my id-pouch and produced my peddler’s license. She reviewed it then handed it back to me. “The City Council just passed a law that says no peddling north of Superior Street.” she added as if by improvisation.

“How far north? I asked.

Her voice rose in irritation, “To the end of Michigan Avenue,” she snapped. “You can’t sell here.”

“Well, than, I’ll just continue to give them away.”

At this point the manager from Hershey’s in a white shirt and tie engaged the officer. He made it known that he wanted me removed from this spot in front of his store. She was attempting to explain that I was not breaking the law by giving patches away. I decided to document this with my camera. Out of my bag I brought my Nikon digital and popped the lens cap, flipping it on, and opening the LED viewer. I fired off several shots. The officer rolled around from behind the manager of Hershey’s and said “Don’t take my picture without asking me.”

“Can I take your picture?” I asked as I fired off a final shot.

“No!” she said. “Alright, that’s it….” she stammered as I took that last shot. The mood had just changed. I could feel she was moving into confrontation-arrest mode. The manager had let her know he expected me to be gone. She would not grant me even my right to document my own predicament. I had what I needed from this situation. I had the answer to what my free speech rights were at this moment in this place.

I cut her off. “OK - I’m out of here - you get your way, I’m gone - I’m leaving this spot as fast as I can. This spot has bad Karma!” I declared. As fast as I could, I began to pick-up my prints. This made both of them happy. When I looked up the manager was back inside his over-cooled establishment and the policewoman had rolled off but not very far off, I was sure.

So what is Freedom? I laughed a bitter laugh and remembered the time I spent in Majorca, Spain selling leather crafts that I made with a French partner. He and I had hitched together from Amsterdam to Barcelona where we caught a boat to Majorca, an island owned by Spain in the Mediterranean Sea. Franko was still the long time dictator. The year was 1971.

European tourists flocked to Majorca for vacation tours in the early spring time. We found a cave outside the tourist area where we slept by the Mediterranean and made our leather crafts amidst the sounds and smells of the sea. The sunsets were colorful from horizon to horizon. The moquitoes were many and hungry. We applied cheap Spanish wine orally before bed and let the mosquitos feast. Most days we took a lazy stroll into town along the tourist promenade. When we found a convenient location we would throw down a blanket and our crafts. Within a few minutes we had a crowd. Tourists came to Majorca looking for the famed Spanish leather goods. The first store they entered they would be excited by all the leather items. Wishing to see a variety they would try the next store to see what it held that was new and different. The stores were all owned by the state and they all carried the state line of leather goods. By law nobody else could sell anything on the island. After a few days of this they would feel cheated. They even told us that they paid for the same moquitoes we got for free at the cave. When they saw us selling our own creations they would buy. Our problem - the storeowners wanting all the tourist’s currency would call the police.

The police in Franko’s Spain rode motorcycles wearing submachine guns across their backs. We could hear them coming down the two lane beachfront road. One of us was always on the lookout while the other sold. At the signal from the lookout all items were snatched back from the tourists fondling them and in seconds we were strolling into a local cafe or in animated, imitated conversation blending in with the tourists. Eventually they caught us.

We learned, than, that hippies from the north rediscovered our cave annually. We were no surprise to the authorities. Lucky for us we had made enough to pay for a ticket to the mainland or we would have spent some months in the Spanish jail on Majorca.

Yes, folks - in my humble opinion - I have no more free speech on Michigan Avenue then I had in Franko’s Spain. Why should we have to give up our free speech rights for business? Does this suck the cultural life out of Chicago’s street scene for the narrow benefit of a few who wish to make all the money? We get palaces of chocolate and streets cleanly swept of all of Chicago’s cultural authenticity. Is this what the tourist really wants? Don’t they want to see the local artists, too? These are just some initial questions to ponder. Hey, what do you think?

I thought I’d take over the Freedom Museum floor and ask why Chicago artists do not have their full free speech rights. A review of the recently concluded session held much to be discussed from the viewpoint of freedom and civil liberties. Richard Epstein and Geoffry Stone - two legal experts on the Supreme Court were speaking and taking questions.

I thought I could work my question about a free speech law case - (Weinberg v. Chicago) that the justices had refused to hear in 2003. I really wanted to let others know that some artists know we do not have our full speech rights in Chicago.
These two photos are from Tuesday, June 20th at noon, when I sold my peace patches outside the Freedom Museum. It was a test to see how the police would treat me as an artist selling my political work. I wanted to select locations that would be logical for political or civic discussion. The Freedom Museum fit that well, I thought.

That day it was just after I took the photos that a policeman appeared and asked if I had a “permit” to sell in this location. I took out my peddlers license and gave it to him. He studied it for some time before giving it back to me. What went through his mind, I will never know. My mind considered the Municipal Code that regulated peddlers. The entire loop was off-limits except for a few outlying spots designated as “free Speech” spots. An artist who registered with the city and provided photos of every article they wished to sell to the Department of Business Affairs and Licenses on a monthly basis, could then pick one of those outlying locations and only sell from that spot that month. There can be no moving from spot to spot. Special events in Grant Park have similar requirements. More on this later. An artist could get to know the lone man at the Business Affairs and Licenses who maintained these records very well if they wished to follow their rules.When I sought out a speech peddlers permit he told me no one had contacted him in two years.
Today the policeman acted as if he did not know the details of the code. This is not surprising as complex as it is. He handed back my peddlers license and said, “Thankyou!” As I thought further about it, he might have been under orders to collect information about my activity more than to move me off of the spot. After all I was in front of the Chicago Tribune building - a business entity that depends on our individual free speech rights to sell their newspapers all over Chicago - as they please. What they can do in the name of free speech - every citizen should be able to do. The police are called most often by the security for the businesses and buildings in the Loop. They inform the officers of their “concerns.” In this case - perhaps - it might have looked hypocritical to evict an obviously political artist from in front of the staunchest defender of free speech.
This shot shows my set-up and how little it disturbed the foot traffic. The two reasons the city uses to legally justify regulation of artists who sell on the city streets is traffic control and public safety.

I prepared to visit the Freedom Museum by pinning my peace patches on suitable clothing for the hot weather we are experiencing (90 degrees).

At the event I blended into the crowd (not!). The discussion was about the human rights issues the Court dealt with this year. As I listened to the two discuss legal points before the Supreme Court I realized that what happens at the level of the Federal Judiciary and what happens on the street are two different things. Artists are likely to find favor in the courts but on the street, Aldermen and the police that work for the city rule the moment. What is needed is not only the knowledge of our rights but also an organized defense of those rights.

Unfortunately, this night was not the opportunity I hoped to bring out the issue of artists’ free speech rights in Chicago.

At the end of the program I filled out my response form and suggested - when asked at the end of the form - that the Freedom Museum ought to explore artists’ free speech rights and the importance of their voices in a democracy. Do you think I will ever hear back from them?

We brag greatly about how free we are in this nation. This makes me think deeply about how free we really are. What is the quality of our democracy? What are the obstacles that limit the public discourse? As an artist, I believe artists contribute uniquely to the public discourse.

How are we encouraged and what constrictions reduce artists’ abilities to interact with the public? How do Chicago’s policies affect my ability to show and sell my art? Is your right to view and support artists in your midst reduced to a minimum? How? Why? Can you imagine a policeman, hand on his cuffs, telling you that you can not give me money for my t-shirt art? What is free speech in a free society and, again, how free are we?

Welcome to C Drew, Art Adventures. Come with me as I sell peace patches in Chicago. My goal is an artist friendly city attracting artists from across the midwest. To attract artists there must be creative opportunities at the first rung of the community arts latter to support creative individuals who seek them out. An open city that encourages artists to be seen, heard, and encouraged to sell their arts in the parks, on the streets and anywhere possible as long as the public saftey is not threatened or the public’s way blocked. A simple policy change such as that would cost the city nothing but would attract artists from the region and beyond. It would make Chicago a much more attractive tourist and convention destination, too.

Explore the challenge of the street artist in Chicago by following my posts.