Menlo Park Video and Beyond

Forget downtown. One of Tucson's most interesting and insightful murals is a little removed from the bastion of public arts at the city's heart. The mural is not at the Rondstadt Center or on the side of a city court building: it's on the wall of an abandoned video store on the other side of the I-10 Freeway. This Menlo Park Video mural of the Virgin de Guadalupe revealing herself to a shepherd is one of the most authentic and mysterious works of art that Tucson can claim.



I ventured over to Grande Avenue and Congress Street to take a look for myself, after my boyfriend told me that the largest tree in Tucson was in the same area. The tree was pretty cool, but only prepared me for what was in store. On the southeast side of the intersection, I spotted a colorful array of religious art. We parked our car in a dirt lot next to an empty basketball court, and thus encited the fury of two ecstatic Chihuahuas in the yard next door. With the music of squeeky barking as a background for our experience, we stared at the wall and took it in.



At first, the wall looks like a typical religious mural: it has an apparition in the form of the Virgin, and a person on his knees praying to her. The wall is decked out in sensual blues, and has a simple shrine with religious writing on the bottom right corner. But what strikes me as different, is the Virgin's face. It's serene as usual, but a certain human quality imbues it with life. This Virgin is a person; she has thoughts and feelings and seems to be peering out of the 2-dimensional world searching for a life that this old video store could never provide.

The hidden masterpiece's creator remains a mystery. After looking for a few minutes, my boyfriend and I discovered that the video store was boarded up, but there were still artifacts inside peeking out of the window from behind bars. I would have thought that the store was just closed, but it was the middle of the day and absolutely no one was around. I went home to see if someone had written about it online, but there is nothing that mentions the mural. It's almost like a secret worship center, possibly known only by the people that live nearby, a couple of Chihuahuas and an occasional art afficionado like myself.



I want to go back and ask around some local stores to see if anyone knows about the mystery, but I'm almost scared that discovering the earthly connections will ruin the obscurity of the art that makes it so powerful. It's like this vestiage was sent down by the Virgin herself, absent of human ties and emotions, a divine work devoid of human sin and touch. But of course that's not true, so I most assuredly will attempt the visit at another time when I can interview a person or two. But for now, the artwork will remain as shrouded as the Virgin herself.