Celebrate the Empty Spaces

Summer may be in full swing as they say, but around here, it’s clearly more of a slow wobble.

The “it’s 95 but feels like 110” heat wave settling across the Southeast has debauched the daytime hours like a malevolent relative who’s taken over the couch with their damp socks and old shrimp smells, quashing any notion of sexy pickleball or whatever outdoor activity the hard seltzer commercials tell us we’re supposed to be emulating.  

While some of us find respite from the tortuous torpor by floating in a friend’s cold plunge (like a hot tub, only freezing) or simply laying naked under the air conditioning vent from 11am to sundown, it appears that many have fled Savannah, evidenced by the desolate avenues and profusion of parking spaces. Sure, we’re used to south-of-Forsyth life quieting down after the SCAD students vacate, but lately the Bull Street corridor looks like a veritable ghost town, haunted only by heat-resistant squirrels, library diehards, and the occasional lost tourist. 

Not that I’m complaining—last week I got to sit at my favorite window table at Foxy Loxy for the first time in years. But the empty streets lethargy is giving the lonely vibe of a Don Henley song (back in the 80s, it was all about sexy volleyball and a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac.) 

Even Tybee Island felt bereft this weekend. After April’s Orange Crush debacle that snarled traffic and caused a pandemic of clutched pearls, city officials cautiously amassed what seemed like the entire population of Cop City in advance of the unsanctioned “Turnt Island” event that promised to bring out an extra 10,000 party people—only to have less than 100 people show up. Legions of local police, state patrol officers, and other law enforcement eagerly ran license plates and busted beach vapers, but by Sunday it was obvious that there wasn’t much to enforce on the mostly empty beach under the empty sky (unless they cited that damn White Claw banner plane for being annoying.)

I haven’t missed a Fourth of July weekend on Tybee since our little family rolled into town 18 years ago (our exact Savannahversary is July 2) and can attest that the weekend before usually marks a wild time punctuated by drunken hordes trying to lose fingers by setting off constant Walmart fireworks. I’m writing this the day before the official holiday so perhaps it’s presumptuous to pronounce this the most sedate summer celebration in recent history, but there’s no denying the half-empty restaurants and desolate driveways of Tybee’s bajillion vacation rentals. 

“It’s eerie,” agreed beach neighbor and longtime Tybee denizen Cindy Meyer as we watched the full moon rise over a deserted walkway a few blocks down from the normally busy pier. “But it’s certainly peaceful.”

Perhaps the promise of the massive police presence scared off Tybee Turnt revelers, and others may have considered the labor of loading up the car and coolers in this decidedly un-recreational heat and opted for the new Indiana Jones movie instead, but July 2023 might be shaping up to be a hot wet American summer of our discontent. 

It’s not just us; midsummer malaise is an actual thing, and between the rapid unraveling of our cultural cohesion to the acquiescence to full AI takeover, it’s no wonder things seem a little empty right now. 

But nature abhors a vacuum, and Savannah loves its public art. Even steam rising from the asphalt didn’t stop a small crowd from gathering in the melty parking lot behind Green Truck Pub last Thursday to hear painter and delightful absurdist Christopher Moss deliver a long-awaited lecture on his latest project. 

Since March, “100 Proposals for the Drive Thru Art Box” has been occupying the blank space of the former squawk box where folks used to place their to-go orders back when the restaurant was a crumbling Krispy Chic. It was the site of some of Savannah’s first official public art installations—including assemblages by deceased local legend Mike Williams and a colorful wrap by the Savannah Yarnbomb Squad—after guerrilla artists Matt Hebermehl and “Dr. Z” Zdaniewski wrote the 2012 city ordinance that took the crime out of outdoor mural making.  

The Savannah Yarnbomb Squad in front of the Green Truck Art Box installation, 2012. Who remembers?

After Matt and Dr. Z followed their art careers to bigger markets, Green Truck owners and enthusiastic art patrons Whitney and Josh Yates bestowed the box’s future on Sulfur Studios, which is now housed under the dynamic nonprofit arts umbrella of ARTS Southeast. Moss—who will heretofore be referred to as Mr. Hop The Scissor, a clever anagram of his name as well as his charming Instagram handle—is the latest in the line of highly respected, irreverent local artists such as Maxx Feist and Tittybats who have filled the Drive Thru Art Box with weird, wonderful visions. 

Employing touches of gouache paint along with the same watercolor set that he’s been “dragging around since childhood,” Mr. Scissor filled the triptych with six original panels every week, exponentially expanding the space’s potential and offering a meta-level examination of the site itself. 

“This location is completely unique to Savannah,” Mr. Hop mused as we sat rapt in the uncharacteristically silent Starland district, sweating away over our beers.  

“Anyone who had an idea could come and put it here. It’s been a community soapbox, and it continues.” 

Mr. Hop the Scissor aka Chris Moss

Check out the full 100 Proposals on Insta or swing by—or slowly wobble, as it were—until July 8, after which the art box will host works by elusive illusionist Will Penny, who was in attendance at the lecture but gave no spoilers of how he plans to use the space.

In the meantime, I hope this steamy holiday weekend was full of fun, wherever y’all are. Me, I’ll take the eerie emptiness of this Savannah summer over the crowds anytime. 

Keep it cool, y’all ~ JLL

Greetings from the cold plunge courtesy of @townmystic