ALBUQUERQUE — “Orphan signs,” “skeletal signs” and “blue sky signs” are the names of unused road signs in front of closed businesses and empty lots. These structures are common along the old Route 66, especially where interstate highways have moved traffic patterns away from the mother road. One such location is the eastern section of Central Avenue in Albuquerque, New Mexico, between the Sandia Mountains and Nob Hill. Once home to adobe automobile lodges, truck stops and grease spoons, much of the commercial space in this area was abandoned after the construction of Interstate 40. Many buildings, motels in particular, are fallen into disrepair and were razed to the ground, but their atomic age googie the signs remained. Some considered empty picture frames to be an eyesore, but Ellen Babcock, founder and director of Friends of the orphan signs (FOS), see it as a creative and educational opportunity; FOS transforms abandoned road signs into revitalized works of art.
Currently on view at Fusion in downtown Albuquerque, the Retrospective of the friends of the orphan signs illuminates FOS projects, including temporary visual and textual public artworks, performances and community workshops. These projects are the result of collaborations with civic and nonprofit organizations, New Mexico artists, students of all ages, families, community groups, landowners, and people on the streets. “We are facilitators. We love the panels, and we also love engaging with the community in innovative ways,” said Lindsey Fromm, FOS Project Manager. Hyperallergic in a recent interview. “We are always trying to innovate in the way we generate our work.”
Some of their early projects involved collaborations with students at Highland High School in Albuquerque, including the rehabilitated art panel “Revivir” (2012) – which gained national attention from FOS when it was recognized as A Outstanding Public Project by Americans for the Arts in 2013. The two-sided backlit neon sign features two images created by highland students. On one side, a woman pours a jug of water into the parched valley of the Rio Grande. On the other, a different woman holds the rising sun in her hands above the Sandia Mountains. The lot that “Revivir” was on was recently purchased and the sign removed, but it is being kept for permanent installation at the Route 66 Visitor Centerscheduled to open this year.
Another early project, “Cinnamon Tree” (2013), was created by asking people at a bus stop where they were going and turning their answers into a one-way sign. This post, which listed locations such as “Work”, “Paradise”, “Texas” and “The Liquor Store”, was then photographed, and the photo was enlarged and installed in an orphan sign. It is one of the most humorous projects of the group. A sign that offers a mixture of laughter and insight is “donut shop(2018-19), which became available for FOS when the eponymous bakery closed. Creative Director Sara Rivera coordinated a bilingual micro-poetry experience using the letters from the last message on the sign: “ANY SIZE FOUNTAIN 99¢ ATM EBT INSIDE”. Results included “BAD SONNETS 99¢”, “YOU SURPRISE ME OFTEN” and “UNA TIENDA DE NUBES” (a cloud store).
Other works represented in the retrospective include “Revision 2020,” in which Rivera cropped historic photographs from the Albuquerque Museum Photographic Archive, and local poet Beca Alderete Baca responded to the images. The project aimed to harness the power of public imagery to highlight and expand changing cultural narratives. It is currently in its second iteration, “Revision 2023”, which engages a wider range of artists. “Casa Barelas” (2017), directed by Babcock and Christine Posner, in collaboration with Spanish-speaking residents of Albuquerque’s Barelas neighborhood, completely revitalized a mid-century gas station sign with a rotating oval lined with neon lights. Artwork and community messages for the sign’s reading board were generated through workshops.
Babcock notes that, while fine examples of design and craftsmanship, the Route 66 signs are remnants of white westward expansion in the 20th century. FOS projects, rooted in social practice, enabled residents to use structures Fromm describes as former “beacons of capitalism” to communicate their self-determined identities through prominent public works of art.
“Route 66 played an important role in the development of Albuquerque, and the signs were aesthetic markers of it. Now many of those classic signs are in disrepair or empty. Their skeletons have become lines on the landscape. I think they’re an asset that can be salvaged and reused,” Fromm says. “It’s a way to create a lot of public art.”
“And various kinds,” adds Babcock. “The most recent series of signs contain messages that might be slightly more provocative – which not everyone may agree with. Usually the signs contain commercial advertisements, public service messages or signs of church on the salvation of your soul. To disrupt that and create a platform where you don’t know where the voice is coming from, it allows for more diversity of voices.
Retrospective of the friends of the orphan signs continues at Fusion (700–708 1st Street Northwest, Albuquerque, New Mexico) through April 28. The exhibition was curated by Lindsey Fromm.
