"Most people would be winding down or thinking about retirement, and he's going off on this really risky venture," said his daughter Amy Jackson. "I think for him it just really mattered about having something of your own that you could really bring all of yourself to. He always used to say, 'Why rent something when you can buy it?'"
I'm going tell you about an audacious idea that sounds almost impossible, one that is rooted in dreams about symbolic and literal unity of our nation. It is both a distraction from and answer to our country's problems in 2025, and it relies on an unshakeable faith in humanity and community. It reaches into the future while looking into the past, and stepping foot on it can change a person's life.
If you were to have visited the 3600 Block of Heidelberg Street in Detroit around 1986, you would have likely encountered a young artist beginning the project of a lifetime. Found object assemblages and painted patterns were quickly transforming a neighborhood that had experienced mass disinvestment, turning grassy lots and abandoned homes into an enclave of creativity. Soon, an immersive, vernacular art environment emerged and was at once an amalgamation of everyday materials and what seemed to be a mystical translation from another realm.
"We're not just doing good for the environment. We're creating paid work and valuable job experience," said Renee Ruhl, Intervine program director. "This is really a social enterprise, because..."
Coven's opening comes against the backdrop of a gradual decline in queer venues in the capital. Figures show more than half of London's LGBTQ venues closed from 2006 to 2022.
