Perhaps it was fate that Chen Dongfan was selected to blanket the gray asphalt of Chinatown’s Doyers Street with a colorful mural.
“In 2011, I went to that street for my first-ever Chinese meal in New York City, at Nom Wah,” says Chen, speaking Mandarin through a translator at his Long Island City studio, which he’s painted in wild patterns and colors. “So it feels like it was meant to be.”
The 36-year-old, a native of Zibo in China’s Shandong province and a graduate of Hangzhou’s prestigious China Academy of Art, immediately took to the city during that first visit.
He moved here permanently in 2014, and now lives in Williamsburg with his gallerist wife Inna Xu.
“Aerial of The Song of Dragon and Flowers” by Dongfan.Cheng Dongfan
This summer, the city’s Department of Transportation and community organization Chinatown Partnership put out a call for proposals for Doyers Street’s seasonal public art project. Chen was on vacation in China and almost didn’t apply; he didn’t expect to win for what he calls a “crazy” solo project. He submitted a rough aerial sketch of the tiny, crooked alley between Pell and the Bowery — shaped like a dragon, he says — enlivened with splotches of vivid hues. And he won.
So Chen, who has painted building facades in Athens, Greece, and Hangzhou, China, as well as mounted gallery shows, embarked on his biggest project yet in his adopted hometown: a 4,851-square-foot abstract work. It took eight straight eight-hour days in the summer and 15 ½ gallons of acrylic paint in primary colors applied in five to six layers before “The Song of Dragon and Flowers” was finished.
It’s on view until Nov. 1, and Doyers Street is closed to cars every day from 10 a.m to 9 p.m.
While Chen’s final product is abstract (“I didn’t want to do a literal dragon and flower”), its seemingly haphazard geometry and bold colors are inspired by the tumultuous past of the little street, as well as day-to-day life on the thoroughfare today and the Asian immigrant experience.
Nicknamed the Bloody Angle and even called “the deadliest street in American history,” for its gang-related fights and 90-degree curvature, the notorious stretch was also home to opium dens, gambling rings and prostitutes in the late 19th century.
“I read that the people who lived on the street had to use water to wash out the blood every morning,” Chen says. “Chinatown is like a time capsule. At one time, this street used to be full of violence, but now it has become very peaceful and a place for the public to enjoy. I wanted people who walk on the street to think of the history.”
Rather than work off a plan or a model, Chen painted on the fly. “This guy walking by made me feel like pink, so I’ll add pink to the painting,” he says. “It was very improvisational.”
His spontaneous work has attracted thousands of Instagram posts and mentions, many of which he republishes on his own account @ChenDongfan.
The mural as well as outdoor tables and chairs encourage pedestrians to wander and explore local businesses, which include dim sum staple and Chen favorite Nom Wah Tea Parlor, which opened in 1920, as well as old-school eateries Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodles and Taiwan Pork Chop House. Crammed in between barbershops, salons and other small businesses, there’s also trendy cocktail spot Apotheke and Indonesian/Malaysian eatery Sanuria.
“If you’re not a history or urban planning nerd like I am, [the street art] is something to draw people’s attention, to stop and pause and think about the street,” says Eddy Buckingham, co-owner of 2016-opened Chinese Tuxedo at 5 Doyers St., which serves modern takes on Asian fare. Buckingham opened underground cocktail bar Peachy’s at the same address earlier this year. “It’s perfect and fitting. It just makes my own street and neighborhood more interesting and beautiful to visitors.”
Closeup of “The Song of Dragon and Flowers.”Inna Xu
Not everyone was so welcoming. Vandals splattered black paint on what Chen considers the dragon’s eye, but he bounced back, turning the spot into a cartoonish doodle of a face
But thanks to natural forces like sun, rain and footsteps, Chen’s artwork is fading over time.
“I just wants viewers to enjoy the moment on the street. The most valuable element of the project is that the viewer is involved in the painting and it interacts with the people,” says Chen, who is repped by Bed-Stuy’s Fou Gallery. “It’s only there for three months. As the days go, the painting starts to disappear. Every state is the artwork itself. It’s all a process I accept.”
