By Randiah Camille Green for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Chrystal Blair for Michigan News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
A waft of what smells like fresh cut grass and burnt oil hangs in the air of Detroit's East Canfield neighborhood. The eerie smell comes from the nearby Stellantis Mack Assembly Plant, which has received repeated air quality violations for paint and solvent odors over the last several years. In March, Stellantis agreed to pay a $84,420 fine from the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy (EGLE) for air quality violations for one of its plants in the same neighborhood. This neighborhood has one of the highest rates of asthma hospitalization of children under 18.
Despite its foreboding presence, residents like sisters Kim and Rhonda Theus are finding intentional ways to erect beauty. They run the nonprofit Canfield Consortium, which repurposes vacant lots for things like community gardens and public art. They're even renovating a former corner store into a coffee shop and art gallery, and carving out a future bike path.
Honoring Place and People
Their latest project is the Detroit Remediation Forest, a forest bathing installation located in the East Canfield Art Park that they hope will help mitigate air pollution from the Stellantis complex. The forest is anchored by a gold sculpture called "New Forest, Ancient Thrones" by New York-based artist and activist Jordan Weber. The piece has an air quality monitor that tells residents the particulate matter levels in the air.
It's shaped like two crowns, as an ode to Queen Idia of Benin (modern-day Nigeria) and Queen Ranavalona III of Madagascar who fought colonization. The crowns also honor Kim and Rhonda as modern-day queens.
"It's a strong symbolic representation of the African diasporic experience and the trauma that's in the land in both Africa and the U.S.," Weber said. "There's the 2008 housing crisis where you see what happened to the legacy of Black homeownership in Detroit, for example. Queen Ranavalona was exiled from Madagascar and forced to live in Europe for the remainder of her life, and that's no different to me than us being displaced in our communities where we have [generations] of families who literally sweat and bled to get that land."
Weber's sculpture was unveiled to the public in May. A second phase of the forest installation will include planting air-purifying conifers like white pine and fir in partnership with the Greening of Detroit, and installing an elevated walkway. It will also host outdoor programming for the Barack Obama Leadership Academy across the street.
"New Forest, Ancient Thrones," is the newest addition to the East Canfield Art Park, which the Theus sisters opened in 2021 on a vacant corner. Kim and Rhonda wanted to leverage the power of art to spark conversations on environmental issues, gentrification, and Black representation.
The first art piece in the park was a bronze sculpture by Detroit sculptor Austen Brantley called "Boy Holds Flower." In that piece, a young Black boy sits cross legged as he gazes in admiration at a flower he's just picked. It's important for the children attending the Barack Obama Leadership Academy to have this image of joyful Black boyhood. The park also includes a "Hood Closed to Gentrifiers" sign by artist Bryce Detroit.
Guided by Purpose and Legacy
Kim and Rhonda remember when the neighborhood was a bustling, Black middle class area - before the Stellantis plant expanded its footprint and displaced their neighbors and before Detroit's foreclosure crisis caused families to lose their homes.
"There was a middle school that we went to, a [recreation] center, playgrounds, and all those things are gone," said Kim "People who are building families won't move to a neighborhood where they don't have those types of amenities, so a lot of the work that we're doing at Canfield Consortium is addressing things like that."
Weber was selected as an artist-in-residence by Sidewalk Detroit, a place-keeping organization championing public art and urban greenspace. Sidewalk Detroit Director and Founder Ryan Myers-Johnson said that during planning meetings, East Canfield residents stressed that any art brought to their neighborhood should address issues they are facing instead of beautification.
"We started to really understand the problem with Stellantis and the air quality issues and how [the plant] is touted as bringing in jobs and not something that is actually destroying health and the fabric of this neighborhood," Myers-Johnson said. "So, we needed somebody rooted in understanding spatial trauma and environmental justice issues."
Reclaiming their neighborhood is Kim and Rhonda's way of preserving the legacy of families like theirs who moved to Detroit to escape the Jim Crow South.
"Our parents were born and raised in Tennessee ... The only jobs they could get there were either domestic work or sharecropping. They wanted to buy a home and build a family, so they left everything they knew in Tennessee to move to Detroit and bought a house in East Canfield Village," Rhonda said. "The majority of people that live here come from the same situation... so these houses have a powerful legacy."
Randiah Camille Green wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
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By Marilyn Odendahl for The Indiana Citizen.
Broadcast version by Joe Ulery for Indiana News Service reporting for the Indiana Citizen-Free Press Indiana-Public News Service Collaboration.
Assembled on a soundstage at Huntington University last week, Gov. Mike Braun, legislators and community officials were optimistic about the potential for more soundstages, more cameras, more lights, more action coming to Indiana as the state positions itself to become a go-to location for film and movie production.
The governor was in Huntington for a ceremonial signing of Senate Enrolled Act 306, which makes Indiana’s film and movie tax credits transferable and, therefore, attractive to out-of-state filmmakers. Leaders at the event said the new law will help grow the state’s digital media production industry, creating new jobs and bringing new money to existing businesses.
Braun did not see Indiana’s wooing of Hollywood as simply a star struck pipedream. Recounting a conversation he had had earlier this year, when Angelo Pizzo, who wrote and produced the film classics “Hoosiers” and “Rudy,” “was bemoaning” that he could no longer make movies like that in Indiana today, Braun said SEA 306 would enable the state to capture an opportunity that is coming.
“The hardest thing in business and in government is not to get stuck in a rut where you just think the same things are going to work in the future,” Braun said, noting that as a business owner, he was always “looking for new horizons, new things that needed to be done.”
Braun continued SEA 306 will help Indiana seize the moment and possibly exceed expectations. “We’re here,” he said. “We’re all dressed up and ready to go and you’re right at the forefront of what I think is going to be a great industry.”
Several states, like Georgia, Louisiana, Illinois and New York, have tax credits geared toward filmmakers and production companies. However, studies have shown movie tax credits, even when they are refundable or transferable, generate little, if any, economic boost. The subsidies offered as tax breaks to film companies have been found to increase movie productions, but the activity has had only a marginal impact on the states’ economies and, in fact, some states actually lost revenue. Moreover, the number of jobs created has been small.
Michael Hicks, professor of economics at Ball State University, was skeptical the now-transferable tax credit would entice movie producers and directors to start filming in Indiana. He said movie and television production companies choose sites for the attributes, such as scenery, that the particular location offers. Cost does not really factor into the decision-making process, when film professionals are identifying places to make the movie or episode.
Also, Hicks said, any movies that are filmed here will likely not have a huge or lasting economic effect on the state. The making of a movie does not spur new construction of hotels, restaurants or venues where people can gather, he said, so any increase in sales that local businesses notice when a film is being made in their community will evaporate when the production crew packs up and leaves town.
“You’re taking a lot of money out of the public coffers,” Hicks said of the film and movie production tax credits. “Other taxpayers are paying for this. They’re either paying for it directly or they’re subsidizing services that somebody else is using and what that ends up doing is generating a lot of costs for very little additional benefit.”
Enticing filmmakers to pick Indiana
Bill Konyha, president and CEO of the Regional Chamber of Northeast Indiana, is optimistic that SEA 306 will give the Hoosier State a starring role in motion pictures. He envisions not only production companies coming here to film, but also, eventually establishing a permanent presence by building movie studios in the state. All of that activity, he said, will create an economic boom by bringing jobs for local residents.
“It’s not a goal that’s going to happen tomorrow …,” Konyha said, “but it’s the opportunity to turn Indiana filmmaking back into … a meaningful, important industry.”
Senate Enrolled Act 306, which passed during the 2025 legislative session with bipartisan support, amended a 2022 state statute that established tax credits for films, documentaries, commercials, television shows, music videos or other similar media production. The Indiana Economic Development Corp. is charged with confirming the eligibility of the applicants and determining the amount of the tax credit.
Under SEA 306, that tax credit is now transferable to another individual or entity. A single credit may not exceed $250,000 and the total amount available between Jan. 1, 2026, when the law takes effect, and July 1, 2031, when the statute expires, is capped at $2 million.
Konyha explained transferability is the key to attracting movie making to Indiana. The 2022 statute was not enough incentive, because the benefit of the tax credit was limited to only those investors or companies based in Indiana. With the new legislation, he said, out-of-state film companies will be able to sell the tax credits to entities that actually pay taxes in Indiana and then use the equity from those sales to invest in film projects.
“The problem is the film companies are mostly out-of-state, and the tax credit that’s available is an Indiana tax credit,” Konyha said. “It has no value to anybody from out-of-state. So it has to be able to be sold or transferred or syndicated to have value for them.”
Supporters of SEA 306 pointed to Huntington University and its department of digital media arts, where students learn the behind-the-scenes film-making skills of recording and lighting, cinematography, editing and producing, and screenwriting. When the COVID-19 pandemic wiped out the internship opportunities in Los Angeles, two digital media arts faculty members, Lance Clark and Matthew Webb, created Forester Films, a film production company connected to the university, to give their students hands-on experience.
Forester Films has written, filmed and produced two movies, “A Carpenter’s Prayer” and “Tea on the Beach,” and is finishing a third, “Overhill Manor.” Clark, dean of the arts at Huntington University, described the films as “faith and family friendly” and said they tackle difficult topics like alcoholism, depression and dementia.
To make the movies, Forester Films has relied on industry professionals and Huntington alumni, while the students worked as interns. Clark said the actors, directors and crew members who have come to Indiana to shoot the three flicks have loved the community and enjoyed working in northeastern Indiana. Also, he said, business owners and local officials have been accommodating and helpful in offering locations to film.
Clark believes the transferable tax credit will lure filmmakers to Indiana. Most likely, large movie companies will start by filming a scene or two in the Hoosier State before undertaking a complete production here, he said. Independent film companies, he said, may be more comfortable to start doing entire movies in Indiana.
Forester Films raised about $2 million from donors and investors to produce its three feature-length motion pictures. Clark said his production company will be “first in line to apply in 2026 for the tax credit” and he anticipates other filmmakers will be lining up as well.
“It’s already helped us talk about financing for our next features, because people that are investors, they like to hear, ‘Oh, there’s a transferable tax credit,’” Clark said. “I think serious filmmakers have a good shot at it here. So it’s already helped have great, great conversations.”
Unsupported economic claims
Clark and his students created a set on the digital media art department’s soundstage as a special backdrop for Braun’s ceremonial bill signing. They filmed the governor walking to the desk, which was draped in black cloth and displayed the state seal, sitting down, signing the bill and then holding it up for the audience to see.
Production was quickly halted after the first take had started. The crew had discovered that the main prop – a ceremonial copy of SEA 306 – was still in the car. The second take appeared flawless.
Huntington Republican Sen. Andy Zay, along with his GOP colleagues, Sens. Travis Holdman, of Markle, and Kyle Walker, of Lawrence, authored SEA 306.
Speaking at the ceremonial bill signing, Zay said Indiana has a rich film history with movies such as “Breaking Away” produced and filmed in the state. SEA 306, he said, will change the tax culture so that movies can again be made in Indiana.
“The credit that we are passing begins to make those opportunities a reality moving forward,” Zay said. “So this is a great step of legislation, of work, where we sign something that doesn’t end something, but we sign something that begins something anew.”
Zay then pointed to Georgia as an example of a state that has seen its movie industry blossom with the introduction of tax incentives. He claimed the Peach State is realizing a return of $6 to $7 for every $1 spent through the film tax credit.
A 2019 policy brief examining the economic impact of the film industry on Georgia’s economy tells a different story. The report from Kennesaw State University blamed “incredible multipliers and dubious data” with inflating economic claims that movie making had a $9.5 billion impact on the state in 2018 and created more than 92,000 jobs.
Instead, the report found, Georgia has approved more than $4 billion in tax credits between 2008 and 2018, while the film industry has contributed about $3 billion to the state’s $588 billion gross domestic product, which represents 0.5% of the state’s economy. Also, the industry directly employs about 16,000 workers, but the report highlighted that assuming every film job is the result of the tax credits, the cost equates to $64,000 to $119,000 in tax credits per job.
Most importantly, the tax credits are hitting Georgians in their wallets. The report noted the $800 million in tax credits given to filmmakers in 2018 represents about $220 per household that Georgia residents could have spent themselves on goods and services in their state.
Hicks, the Ball State economist, called the film tax credit “Republican socialism,” because the GOP is giving money to businesses. The consequence, he said, is the state will be giving a tax break and have less money to spend on roads, bridges and emergency response systems to warn about floods.
“I guess I’m just a little puzzled on the economic argument for desiring some sort of economic activity that doesn’t pay taxes,” Hicks said.
Marilyn Odendahl wrote this article for The Indiana Citizen.
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By Jonathan Feakins for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Judith Ruiz-Branch for Illinois News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
"It's a bit of a grandma-core hobby," Tierney Brosius admits.
But whether at her children's soccer tournaments or organizing an "Entomoloknitting Circle" at the Entomological Society of America's annual conference, Dr. Brosius has found that insect-themed needlecraft can serve not just as an artistic outlet, but as an organic, social means of science communication.
"I love insects in fashion; they're often used [for] being pretty, but also scary," she explains. "And I think that fashion designers often reach to insects because of that duality. There's tension there."
For the past decade, Dr. Brosius has hung her hat-and a growing collection of bespoke, hand-knitted vests-as a professor of biology at Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois. But she's also built a budding reputation as the entomological fashion maven under the moniker, "Dr. Beetle."
Her Instagram account documents sartorial projects that include a vest festooned with Salt Creek tiger beetles (the subject of Brosius's PhD), or a cocoon-style coat that commemorates 2024's double cicada brood.
Her artistic outreach, however, extends beyond the closet. Inside Augustana's Hanson Hall of Science, a 40 foot-long wall now hosts a vibrant, larger-than-life "Beetles of Illinois Identification Mural." Every species pictured-in all of their exoskeleton-ed wonder-were collected by Dr. Brosius and her undergraduates over the course of a single field season.
Wendy DesChene, an artist and professor at Auburn University in Alabama, collaborated with Dr. Brosius to create the mural. She met "Dr. Beetle" years ago while touring Augustana with PlantBot Genetics, a "satirical biotech company." As their friendship grew, including on-brand gift exchanges (Brosius once knitted her a pair of moth mittens), DesChene proposed working together to make a mural a reality.
"As an artist, it's hard to find scientists who don't belittle arts, or don't think of us as a true partnership," DesChene says. "I really wanted to work with somebody who I know as a peer, and who treats me and what I bring to the table as equal."
Dr. Brosius, meanwhile, had no such hang-ups. "I think that's why I interact with artists that deal with insects," she says. "They invite people to be curious. And that fear and hesitation can unfold into this sense of wonder: 'Oh my gosh, I never knew.' Even a drain fly, right? The silliest little thing ... but if you really get up close, they're like little teddy bears with wings."
The professor is especially fond of watching these transformations happen in real-time, in the class she teaches for non-majors. These are students who often enroll in the hopes of simply snagging a required biology credit, but who leave with a newfound love for nature's more chitinous creepy-crawlies. A few have gone so far as to become professional entomologists themselves.
"And I think that's what's so great about insects," she says, "because it's a great analogy for life: you can be a little tense and fearful, and it's probably because you don't know enough about it. Once you start to peel back the layers, that fear can fall away. And you're left with appreciation and love."
Jonathan Feakins wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
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