Sunny Dayz Mural Festival
Sept. 9, 2023
Pearl District
“You know when you’re an Okie and you’re trans and you think, What if we just move somewhere else? And then you think: Nah, we’re gonna stay.”
That’s how Bronco Henryetta, one of the best new bands on the Tulsa scene (listen for “trans femme hyper-country-fried bangers and sludge”), introduced the final song of their set at Sunny Dayz Mural Festival, to massive cheers from the crowd.
To be honest, “We’re gonna stay” could have been the theme of the event. Launched in Oklahoma City in 2021 to empower women and non-binary mural artists of all ages and advocate for greater equity and inclusion in the public art space, this annual festival came to Tulsa for the first time last weekend, with an impact as vibrant as the colors on the walls.
In a pocket of industrial blocks within the Pearl District, nearly 40 local and regional artists, 12 musical acts led by women, dozens of vendors, and food trucks galore — evidence of a truly immense coordination effort — gathered to transform a forgotten space into something coursing with life. In the world of public art, women and non-binary artists themselves have long been overlooked; the Sunny Dayz website gives a rundown of the many ways these artists continue to work at huge disadvantages. The scene in the Pearl District was like something from another, better world — one in which, going by the huge and happy turnout, many of us would be pretty thrilled to live.
With about a week on site to prepare their walls (in many cases, giant-sized), the artists turned these neglected corridors south of 3rd Street and east of Peoria into avenues of discovery using bold color, mind-bending experiments in pattern and texture, and wild imagination.
Scenes from the natural world — like “Fluidity of Nature” by Trudy Tran and Krysta Quinn Art, “Feels Like Magic” by Bruna Petalla and Madison Roy, and “Oklahoma Hills” by Emma Difani and Faye Miller — pulled me into their light on that literal sunny day with an almost psychedelic shimmer.
Speaking of psychedelia, artists like Scraps Designs, Hightail Creative, and Made by Trash brought visions to life that blended irreverence, surrealism, cartoon mania, and futuristic pop. Scraps Designs’ rainbow Bigfoot — aka Thiccfoot — is a particularly juicy addition to the Tulsa canon of folk icons.
Strong shapes by artists like Madeline MacKenzie (“Sun Watching”), Sarah Sullivan Sherrod (“Surf + Turf”) and Phallon Lauderback Wright (“Future Elder/Future Ancestor”) exemplified something I felt throughout the day: a balance between pleasure and sweaty work, rest and energy, commitment to a vivid, celebratory, this-moment presence and to intentionally tending seeds for the time to come. (Some might remember MISfest, which did similar good work for women musicians a while back — some of whom, like Casii Stephan and Branjae, took time to headline this festival in the midst of their own now-packed recording and touring schedules.)
As it raised the visibility of women and non-binary artists, Sunny Dayz Mural Festival also lifted into view this chunk of the city that has long felt lost to the weeds and railroad tracks. Especially with its gorgeous new walls, the neighborhood’s worth a closer look: longtime spots like Garden Deva, Freeway Cafe, and the Tulsa Eagle are now joined by Positive Space art gallery and, a little farther east, the likes of The Church Studio and Country Bird Bakery. (Also tucked away back here: the late Nightingale Theatre, once home to the most adventurous plays in the region.)
On my way to Sunny Dayz, I noticed the crew from Clean Hands at work on the old Golden Pawn II space on 13th and Peoria, where storied musicians used to dig for instruments in the days of the Tulsa Sound. They’d covered almost the entire 8,000 square feet in bold black and pink by the time I passed by again, heading home. As I watched these Tulsa legends at work (they’re the team who started Habit Mural Festival back in 2016), it felt good to know that a whole other set of up-and-coming legends was claiming space too, just up the road. There’s room for everyone on these streets; “y’all,” after all, “means all.” By highlighting this group of artists in Tulsa, Sunny Dayz has helped (as Izzi Kienzle and Wicked Honey’s gloriously witchy garage door mural put it) to “make it so.”
