Houstonia’s The Must List tells you about something going on in Houston that you absolutely cannot miss.

Midtown is a little more colorful these days, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, Houstonians once again have public art to thank for it. Along Milam Street, murals now decorate three bus shelters—scenes of houses with paintings hanging on the walls; bursts of poetry, greenery, and signage converging; and a crowd standing and growing together. Nearby, two underpasses blossom with color and form, conveying both figurative and abstract images of coming home.

Such views brighten up and beautify the neighborhood, but these works also convey a critical civic message: Every person deserves safety, dignity, and a place to live. Hue:Man Shelter, a public art initiative on view through the end of 2026, challenges preconceived notions about homelessness and encourages people to both think about and discuss the overarching issue. Particularly as, among other humiliations, the City of Houston’s recent “civility ordinance” fines people for sleeping, sitting, or setting up on the Greater East End sidewalks; about 100 citations are written per month now, according to ABC 13.

“Art has always been the needle that pushes issues, whether people believe it or not. Because the thing about art is that it is subjective. It gets people to talk,” says Chandler Snipe, project manager for Midtown Houston. “And so, if people are having dialogue, that means they have to listen to each other and then respond, instead of just responding for the sake of responding.”

Plans for Hue:Man Shelter began in December 2022, when Midtown Arts District director of operations Cynthia Alvarado received a call from the Mayor’s Office of Cultural Affairs posing a major question—What would she do if she had a million dollars to spend on a public art project?

After mulling it over, she found her answer: “disrupt perceptions of homelessness.”

That idea became a proposal for Bloomberg Philanthropies’ $1 million public art challenge, developed by Midtown personnel and Marci Dallas, founder of the arts consulting firm Cultural Launch. “Marci and I literally went driving up and down the streets to see: Where could we put this project? What does it mean?” Alvarado says. “We thought of the public art aspect of it, went down Milam Street, counted bus shelters, hoping that Metropolitan Transit Authority [Metro] would participate with us.”

Selected by Bloomberg Philanthropies in October 2023, the final pitch brought together the local nonprofit Career and Recovery Resources, Metro, the Texas Department of Transportation (TxDOT), and a team of 12 artists, filmmakers, and writers, including Marlon Hall, Melissa Aytenfisu, Chris Robinson, Zainob Amao and Mathew Usoro of Zainob + Mathew Create, Reginald Adams, Sherman Finch, and Emmanuel Bean, more popularly known as “Outspoken Bean.” Each underwent a gauntlet of interviews before they were selected and paired with a cohort of unhoused individuals to design, implement, and maintain public art. “We wanted to make sure that we weren't just selecting amazing artists, but we were selecting amazing artists that also were rooted in humanity and empathy, because at the end of the day, they get that working with this vulnerable population, they are just still people, right?” Snipe says. “This is just one chapter of their story. This is not their entire story.” All participants received payment, and those who were unhoused received hands-on training they could apply to future careers.

In addition to visual art displayed on underpasses and three bus shelters, Hue:Man Shelter comprises a permanent mural on the side of the Career and Recovery Resources building, as well as a filmmaking component and social media outreach. Visitors to the project’s Facebook and Instagram pages can see these initiatives in action, with behind-the-scenes looks at how the art was made and further discussions about homelessness in Houston. The team has also rewrapped the “Midtown” installation at Bagby Park in a design created by Robinson, Aytenfisu, Hall, Outspoken Bean, Sherman Finch, Reginald Adams, and their cohorts, in honor of Homelessness Awareness Month. It will be on display until December 1. Midtown first unveiled the new look on November 1 at Hue:Man Shelter Day, a lively party that included a performance by Open Door Mission Choir and a meditation led by Hall.

“There's a lot of interest in…the number of folks that [Hue:Man Shelter] can help, how people feel about homelessness, before the project [and] after the project, on both sides of the fence,” Alvarado says.

Snipe estimates that, out of the 25 participating unhoused individuals, eight have already reentered the workforce and found homes of their own. This includes a couple who lost their food truck business and, subsequently, their home during the COVID-19 pandemic. Since their involvement with Hue:Man, they’ve launched their own salsa business—complete with jars sporting label designs by Robinson. Another success story involves a former Texas Southern University student who ended up incarcerated after losing his mother. His work on this project earned him a saxophone, gifted by the Career and Recovery Resources board members; recordings of his music were eventually infused into some of Hall’s creations.

Working with people experiencing homelessness changed the artists’ minds about the myths and realities of homelessness, too. Hue:Man Shelter kind of needed to. Without a thorough understanding of the nuances of the issue, how could they properly convey these concepts to the public and, hopefully, change a few minds and ignite some progress? “What I learned was homelessness could happen to anybody,” says Aytenfisu, a local visual artist who specializes in creative reuse and printmaking. “…There's not ever a clear or defined reason. And I really hope we can change policy to find better ways to help [the houseless] get back on their feet.”

Along with the Midtown sign, she and her cohort were the minds behind the Window to Home bus shelter at the corner of Milam and Tuam. They discussed concepts of what windows and homes mean on a symbolic level, constantly returning to feelings of comfort and safety. Robinson helped with Window to Home and led his own project at the bus shelter at Milam and Elgin, Stand by Me. He also worked with the couple behind the salsa company, which stands as another testament to what can happen when people experiencing homelessness are given resources and opportunities and treated with dignity and compassion. “That initial design was based off of dreams, right?... What do you want your dream to be?... What else can you do when you have living proof of the actual dream becoming a reality?” he says. “That's it. That's all you need.”

Meanwhile, above Milam and West Alabama, Hall’s beautifully color-blocked piece Welcome Home merges form and function. Driving along the underpass, one can see the houseless community that regularly congregates there, using the seating as shelving to help them better organize their belongings. Hall, who also works as an anthropologist, and his team collected the stories of seven different individuals who shelter beneath the overpass. Out of respect for people’s privacy, they weren’t allowed to show their faces or provide any other identifying information. Instead, he says they “depended on the vibratory function of color” to “represent the home that we all seek.”

Hall notes that many of the houseless people he met while developing Welcome Home felt more comfortable and confident in themselves than many of the wealthier individuals he’s met along the way. Because home isn’t just a structure; it’s an interiority.

“We wanted to cultivate a space where people could come to the home that they are, in mind, body, and spirit,” Hall says. “So, when you go to the underpass, it's not just a public art project. It's also a sanctuary designed to bring us all home to who we are.”