Series Title: “Kenosha — A police killing during covid hits a nerve in the neighborhood”.
Limited edition photographs by Adam Novak, documenting Chicago at its most cinematic and severe. Available as museum-quality fine art prints in select sizes.
It was August 23rd, 2020. A young black dad Jacob Blake had just been shot seven times in the back in front of his children. There was a brutal video of the shooting which left him paralyzed. The message was right there a couple blocks away on the Kenosha County Court House. The plan was in motion. Guns were polished. Masks concealing identity rather than protection from the virus. Gas masks had been tucked into backpacks with other essentials. Tear gas and riot gear had been prepped by the sheriffs department. It was clear that the peaceful demonstration would turn into a riot at dusk.
A state of Emergency had just been declared and the National Guard had been called in. It was a hot August day, in a racially mixed town. A rather beautiful Great Lakes town with wide sand beaches, a nice harbor, an older, well preserved downtown, and a population that was financially struggling, mostly of color. Outside agitators were arriving. The battle lines were drawn on the far side of the town park, the beautiful Kenosha Court House would be the law and order. The park would be free.
Three separate photographs compressed into one moment. Three jobs. Securing the front entrance to the Kenosha County Court House. The sheriffs department unpacking themselves and figuring out who stands where. And blurred and in the foreground, a music video in production, an Asian with dreads, holding his or her crotch and rapping.
I noticed all the necessary ingredients. Ass, a rapper, law and order, some workers boarding up the Court House. I'd say that's a recipe for a music video I'd definitely watch.
The killing of Jacob Blake and the video united the community in the midst of a world wide pandemic. There were plenty of positive, peaceful protests, and a peaceful parade in Kenosha.
Dreaming of other places?
An understandable examination and no explanation. Pointing fingers is always serious. But nobody enjoys the talkin' to. These were Mardi Gras cops. The best kinda cops. Hands off until someone has to be saved from a disaster. The police ego was, for now, kept within the definition of law and order.
But a cop is a cop is a cop is a cop. Eventually they couldn't help themselves. It was too much all this self control. Their entire cop lives they were waiting for this moment. So of course. Bring out the shiny toys. Too bad the state didn't give us a tank that would show these citizens. And yes I was impressed. I bet that bitch would off road like a champ.
It was like watching the movie the Terminator, but way better. The script was playing out in my mind. I just waited for that indestructible T model cop in the movie, to come walking out of the fire, without a scratch. The huge hot Dump truck blazing, as he gets to investigating.
Fire and smoke a photographer's wet dream. Adrenaline is suddenly maxed out. A shadow throws some sort of cocktail at the Bear. An uproar of joy from the people and then crack, the tear gas hits hard, and it's officially time to run!!
The tear gas burned and it was time to run full speed behind a building. Water in the eyes and mouth. Then it's time to head upwind to the far side of the park.
Strange things began to happen. All at once, fires were lit by someone all over town. Businesses burned. Militia's and gangsters of all sorts and colors arrived with assault weapons. The local second hand furniture store blazed right in front of me.
Suddenly, the sound of a loud diesel engine and fire sucking air. How fast the bear crept up. What happens next? Is it time to run again? Good thing I had my running shoes on and tied nice and tight.
You try to create art in the middle of all this mayhem. It's hard to focus. The adrenaline fogs your mind after a while. You see the painting. You are suddenly painting with your camera. The painting unfolds. You capture it like a magic trick. You got it and you feel like a real artist. The Eureka moment has all come together between you and your camera and your mind. It's preserved for now.
I find out that the local jail, the department of corrections, as they call it, is on fire. Spray paint reads Rusten Sheskey you did this. An arrow points to the fire. Sheskey was the cop that shot Jacob Blake in the back. A group in the distant and hard to see is shouting and screaming in joy. Cars speed past honking and hollering.
Fine art photographs appear and disappear.
Is this Black Power, is this Antifa, is this a selfie for instagram or a Tik-Tok video?
Burning Cars are just beautiful to photograph. The cars sizzle and hiss. One of the cars malfunctions and the battery leaves one headlight on. Again a strange feeling of being in the movie the Terminator.
Locals watching local business burn.
Shits on fire and the photographer in me is on fire.
Three table spoons of color, four cups of smoke, seven silhouettes, two burning businesses, a riot control vehicle. Kenosha bleeding color.
Main street is on fire.
Another painting.
It's unbelievable, it's frustrating, it's maddening, it's hopeless, it's infuriating, it's mind boggling, it's disturbing how long this corrupt rot of incompetence, has been infecting us all as a nation. His name is not worth mentioning.
Imagine driving this thing. I can't even tell want brand we are driving here. Again, I imagined this as a painting.
Antifa? Not sure who this was. Not sure what he was trying to say or sell? But he was busy waving the flag and I wasn't about to ask.
The neighborhood was angry and it was understandable.
Meanwhile everyone in town was nervous about losing their business. A flowering of art over boarded up companies.
Are all votes created equal?
Kids live upstairs (so please don't burn it down).
“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years” Abraham Lincoln.
I'll take an Anarchist over a Trump bootlicker any day of the week.
All that's left of the County Jail.
They boarded up the local retirement home with the old neighbors in it. I think it's the saddest photograph I ever took. If they try to do this with me in 40 years, I will make a break for it and never look back.
Charred candy in a business that burned the night before.
Like the Russians that shed tears when Stalin the butcher died. Some people are too far gone.
I wanted to get up close and personal with the enemy.
The reverend doing reverend things and then doing pushups for some reason.
A surreal photograph that looks like an A.I. hallucination. But it isn't...
The enemy doesn't arrive by boat, he arrives by limousine.
A neighborhood feud.
A white supremacist getting run outta town.