Tehachapi

Presented only in theatres

JR is a globally recognized French artist, famous for his monumental photographic installations that transform public spaces. His work, which blends photography and street art, tackles social and political issues, particularly by giving a voice to marginalized communities. Through his bold projects, he seeks to engage the public in reflection on issues such as identity, injustice, and what makes us human. Through his giant murals, he shines a light on human stories that are often overlooked. The United States represents 4.2% of the world’s population and 20% of the world’s prisoners. In October 2019, JR obtained unprecedented permission to intervene in one of California’s most violent maximum-security prisons : Tehachapi. Some inmates there are serving life sentences for crimes they committed as minors.

Through his mural project, JR collects the portraits and stories of these men, offering a different perspective on the prison system and bringing a message of hope and possible redemption.

Director’s Note:
I have always been interested in jails. After all, jails are just walls and walls are my canvas. I did a project a few years ago in Rikers Island and it was a fascinating experience because nothing happens in a prison, and when those who are there are confronted with something new, it quickly becomes a highlight. They invest so much energy in it that it gets very emotional. A friend called me recently to say that I could be granted access to a jail in California. At first, I thought it would be too much paperwork and too many constraints, but luckily someone who participated in my project The Chronicles of San Francisco facilitated the process. So, with Google Earth, I browsed all the 35 Californian state prisons, and I chose Tehachapi without knowing it was a maximum-security prison …I just thought that the yard and the surroundings would make a perfect image. The idea was to meet with men working on rehabilitation, and to also engage formerly incarcerated men, their family members, as well as the prison staff and survivors of violent crimes. When I got there, I understood that most of these men were incarcerated when they were teenagers between 13 and 20. I told them about my project and made it clear that I did not want to know what they had done. They had a trial, they have been sentenced and I am not their judge. Nevertheless, a couple of guys left because they felt that their presence would be embarrassing for their families or for the families of their victims.I was asked not to approach the guys too closely because they are not comfortable with interactions, but when I got in, I couldn’t refrain from looking at them in the eyes, shaking their hands, introducing myself, and asking their names. Just because that’s what humans do. They were amazingly grateful for this; a number of them were in prison for life because of the three strikes law in California.
Some will be freed because the law has changed since they got in. During the process I was allowed to use my phone and I shared stories about the pasting on social media. I received reactions from everywhere, from their families, from victims, from critics, from people who were shocked by the swastika tattooed on the face of a man, etc. I shared them and we discussed. The families of the inmates started replying on social media and for a brief moment there was a connection between the inside and the outside. When the artwork was pasted, we decided to wait for a couple of weeks so we could put together a platform for everyone to hear the stories. Why ? Because we know that it is a sensitive subject and we wanted anyone to be able to listen to stories of hope and redemption, to hear testimonies that one doesn’t normally get. Because what happened there when these men, their guards, and some victims all worked together on an art piece has to be seen.
We wanted to share the process and embrace the complexity of human actions and feelings that we have witnessed. These men have been judged guilty when they were young; some were dragged into gangs and made heavy mistakes, and they have paid or are paying the price. They say that they have changed and they are ready to become active citizens, to give a meaning to their lives.
The final image was captured with a drone. It also features some formerly incarcerated men and victims who accepted to forgive and come inside the prison to paste the huge image composed of 338 strips of paper. A few years ago, I started a journey called ​“Can art change the world?” It is still an open question. And with this project, I want to raise another question: ​“Can a man change ?” Before answering yes or no, ask yourself the question : Did I change ? Did I make mistakes, apologize, and amend? If I did, why couldn’t they ?
- JR