Back Alley Arctic
What comes to mind when you think of an alley?
If you said “dank and dark,” I wouldn’t be surprised. How about “dirty and filled with debris”?
The other day, my family did something that had been on our bucket list for several years. The school holidays had started, and the kids were already a little antsy, so we rounded everyone up and headed over to the Wolseley neighborhood of Winnipeg.
Our destination was, yep: a back alley. If that sounds strange, let me explain. The alley is more or less like any other in the city—we have 900 kilometers (559 miles) of them. It’s a narrow roadway giving access to an assortment of garages and parking pads, with its fair share of weeds, potholes, and garbage and recycling collection carts. Pretty typical.
Except this alley is also an art gallery.
In 2017, a prominent Winnipeg artist named Kal Barteski was helping to launch a mural festival in the Arctic community of Churchill, Manitoba. Keen to participate alongside the other artists, but lacking experience painting outdoors and at a large scale, she practiced by painting a polar bear on her garage door. "Nothing good happens in a back lane—so I wanted to make it a little more colourful, and see if I could perhaps make a walkable or bikeable art gallery," she told a local media outlet.
This set off a chain reaction, and, one by one, she was invited to paint other garages in her back alley with stunning images of beluga whales, snowy owls, muskox, narwhals, and many more polar bears. As a passionate advocate for sea ice and Arctic animal conservation, she hasn’t charged for her artwork, but invited people to donate to a polar bear protection fund.
“Back Alley Arctic,” as it is now known, has become a full-blown tourist attraction, with write-ups on dozens of tourism websites and travel blogs. Folks come from all over to grab selfies with snowy owls and group pics with puffins. The alley has also served as an official location during the beloved nighttime arts festival Nuit Blanche, which happens here in September every year.
After wandering a little bit, our cameras at the ready, we located the alley entrance and spotted the first sign we were in the right place: a tiny, unexpected polar bear at the base of a fence, then another, pointing us toward the main attraction.
I was really excited to be finally seeing this special alley in person, but was unprepared for just how incredible it was. More than a dozen garage doors were completely covered by murals.
There were also many smaller pieces on wood or coroplast, mounted to fences.
And tons of delightful “blink and you might miss them” surprise animals.
There were way more pieces of artwork than I’d expected, and it was a completely free experience. All in one humble back alley. And all because of a small step that one resident took to bring a little color to a neglected space in her neighborhood.
More Than Just Pretty Pictures
What I love about Back Alley Arctic, as much as the gorgeous works of art and the joy of finding all this beauty in an unexpected place, is that it’s clearly brought a sense of pride and connection within the neighborhood.
Barteski noted that painting garage doors prompted the instinct to care for the space: “...[I]mmediately the owners will come up and sweep in front, they'll move some weeds and it has this magical ability—almost like a domino effect: people want to improve things. … Not that I think my back lane was terrible, but it's really fascinating to see the community effect of improvement."
I was not at all surprised to read that it also resulted in neighbors getting to know each other. The art creates an instant and natural talking point. While we were touring the alley, we crossed paths with a local bringing a friend through the area. We chatted for a moment, and it was clear she was proud and excited to be sharing the experience with newcomers.
Plus, Back Alley Arctic has already inspired at least one other artist to put values into action and create places that feel safe and welcoming. When this garage mural popped up in my own neighborhood, I had to find out who painted it.
Turns out the artist, Nereo Zorro, was inspired by Kal Barteski to paint murals across the country, with the specific goal of bringing a sense of safety to neighborhoods, highlighting the human connection to wildlife and nature, and bringing beauty to back lanes, saying they’re “a space that isn't always acknowledged or used.”
Back Alley Action From the Bottom Up
Alley activation projects have been taking place all around the world. Alleys hold great potential for achieving all sorts of goals, from climate action to community building to economic development.
I’ve long admired Montreal’s green alleyways program (and white alleys for winter). In Calgary, there’s the Green Alley Project, which “demonstrates how to transform Calgary, Alberta’s, downtown alleyways from forgotten and gritty into places of connectivity, productivity, and value.” In Sydney, Australia, “26 laneways have been brought to life with bars, restaurants, retail outlets and acclaimed art installations,” since the city’s laneway revitalization program began in 2007.
But what’s really remarkable about Back Alley Arctic is that it’s a completely grassroots effort. No planning permissions had to be obtained. No neighborhood consensus had to be established. It wasn’t surprising that it happened in the artsy and eclectic Wolseley neighborhood (aka “the granola belt”), but I can imagine this sort of thing happening just about anywhere, with enough enthusiasm and creativity.
In fact, visiting Back Alley Arctic reminded me of an idea I had a few summers ago. We have a narrow strip of soil on the alley side of our back fence, and it occurred to me that it’s just wide enough to plant a row of sunflowers. The prospect of there being more than just weeds back there might be the incentive I need to bring a little TLC to our own back alley. The thought of the sunflowers popping their heads over the top of our fence brings a smile to my face. In fact, I can see the hand-painted sign now: “Back Lane Blooms.” I just might mention the idea to my neighbors, and see if anyone wants to join me.
Advocacy work means a lot of waiting and hoping for a better future. That makes it a lot like Advent (the weeks before Christmas on the Christian calendar). But waiting during Advent isn’t discouraging or boring: It’s hopeful, active and joyful. Here are a few ways to bring that approach to your community, whether you celebrate Christmas or not.