Sidewalk Storyteller
Artist Anne Wallace still cementing the history of Lavaca, San Antonio’s oldest neighborhood BY BRYAN RINDFUSS
J
ust before the turn of the last century, artist Anne Wallace won a commission to embark on a years-long public art project exploring the rich history of Lavaca — San Antonio’s oldest continuously inhabited neighborhood. However, that commission came with an
unusual stipulation: her artwork needed to be integrated into the sidewalks. Taking cues from Ed Gaida’s 1999 book Sidewalks of San Antonio — a pictorial history that documents insignias left behind by concrete crews — Wallace set out to cement an enduring portrait of the neighborhood.
In search of stories that would illustrate Lavaca’s fascinating past lives, she conducted research at the Institute of Texan Cultures and the San Antonio Public Library’s Texana collection, combed through old city directories and Sanborn maps, attended neighborhood association meetings and spread the word organically. Her primary goal was to locate and interview residents with clear memories of how things once were — especially before urban renewal projects like the Victoria Courts and Hemisfair forced out ethnically diverse families and forever altered the flow between Lavaca and downtown San Antonio. “I really wanted to find stories of people that remembered that far back,” Wallace said.
1. Bryan Rindfuss
4. Anne Wallace
3. Angela Martinez
5. Anne Wallace
7. Kat McColley Doucette 1. Artist Anne Wallace brushes mineral oil on a concrete stamp held by her helpful friend Antwan Nicholson.
Find more arts coverage every day at sacurrent.com
2. Wallace uses her body weight and a sledgehammer to ensure the stamp makes an even impression in the wet concrete. 3. Freshly restored, a beloved anecdote reads “My
mother’s father was in Mexico City in Don Porfirio Diaz’ Army. My father’s father and his grandpa were under Pancho Villa’s command. They fought the federales like my grandpa! I was born in La Villita. 4. During the planning stages of the project, Wallace happened upon a man who shared this powerful anecdote: “I remember when they pulled the last old lady
out. She was in a wheelchair. When they tore everything down for HemisFair, that’s when I became familiar with eminent domain.” 5. This anecdote about a watering hole in the vicinity of Bar America is rightfully among the fan favorites of The Unofficial Story. “The clientele was the questionable people of that area. Men who knifed others, women who