A year of leadership shifts later, the Greater Philadelphia Film Office is charting new successes

In the Philly film world, Sharon Pinkenson was a trailblazer among trailblazers.

As longtime executive director of the Greater Philadelphia Film Office, she made Philadelphia a destination for Hollywood productions. This led to the filming of classics like 12 Monkeys and Silver Linings Playbook in the region and cleared the path for future films, true-crime shows, documentaries, music videos, and commercials.

When Pinkenson stepped down from the film commission in November 2024, after three decades at the helm, it fell upon longtime employees Erin Wagner and Nicole Shiner to carry forward the work of their charismatic mentor.

It’s been a year since they stepped into their roles as co-executive directors, and Shiner said the 20 years they spent under Pinkenson’s wing have begun to pay dividends.

“Having someone who’s been in the position for so long, and who had such a grand reputation and did so much for the community, it’s been hard coming in after her,” she said. “But the good news is, [Wagner] and I have been here for 20 years. We have a lot of institutional knowledge about how to move forward.”

The past year, she said, has drawn expected challenges. Among them is the loss of longtime film office director Joan Bressler, whom Pinkenson hired six months after becoming executive director. Bressler retired in August after 30+ years at the film office.

“She ate, slept, and dreamed of local film,” Wagner said. “She is an amazing woman who ran every program the film office had.”

Without the film office’s most tenured and recognizable leaders at the helm, Wagner said, the duo spent the past year reintroducing themselves to government officials, Hollywood executives, and members of Philly’s film community. The goal was to establish themselves as trusted resources and to showcase their “fresh, down-to-earth approach” as film office leaders.

“We talk up our local crew, our tax credits, our locations, and just remind people that we’re a short drive from New York. We’re close to D.C.,” said Wagner, who has spent many years as the film commission’s production coordinator. “We have an international airport, and we have some of the hardest-working crews in the film business. Don’t discount us.”

“[Pinkenson] taught us very well,” she said. “But at the same time, we’re different people and a different generation, and we just want to remind people that we’re here to help.”

Producer Nancy Glass, who has spearheaded several true crime shows filmed in the region, said Shiner and Wagner have been integral in making her projects come to fruition.

“They are very active and very helpful. They have time for everybody, and that’s really impressive.”

As the new faces of the film office, Wagner and Shiner have made use of their strengths. “I think we really do balance each other out,” Shiner said.

While Wagner handles the “new world of politics,” Shiner has taken on the financial side of the operation. She oversees available tax credits, finance fees, and other operational costs associated with the nonprofit organization.

Wagner’s connections with local crew members have been a boon.

During the filming of the HBO crime drama Task, 777 Pennsylvanians were hired as local crew, cast members, and background players for 177 days. Shiner said the production accounted for a $230 million economic impact on the region.

“We already know how great Philly is,” Wagner said. “The rest of the world’s finally catching up. Even though some of the projects may not have been filmed here, they may have come down for one or two days. But that puts our crew to work, and that’s what we’re happy to see.”

The duo are also building programs in direct support of emerging filmmakers.

Shiner and Wagner have entrusted Daniela Galdi, the new director of filmmakers, with relaunching the long-running Set in Philadelphia Screenwriting Competition.

The competition, now called the Joan Bressler Set in Philadelphia Screenwriting Competition, in Bressler’s honor, is open to all screenwriters who submit a screenplay for a feature-length project or original TV pilot that can be shot in the Greater Philly area. All genres are welcome.

The final deadline for the competition is Nov. 20, and the top winner will be awarded $10,000 to fund their future Philly-set project.

In the new year, they also plan to develop training workshops and hands-on programs to keep local crew members equipped with the latest production technology and techniques, ensuring they have the skills necessary to work on upcoming productions.

“Film is always changing,” Shiner said. “There’s always new technology, and if we don’t keep up and provide that education, those workshops, and the opportunities for people to learn about their craft, our workforce will suffer.”

The yearlong transition, Wagner said, has been “eye-opening” and “humbling.” She’s optimistic about the duo’s relationships with county partners and local legislators, and she’s thrilled for the future productions coming to town.

“I think that these people see a future in film and television and media and workforce development with us, and they see that we’re knocking on doors and don’t plan on leaving,” Shiner said. “We want to forge our own legacy. Not only follow [Pinkenson’s] footsteps, but create our own.”

While they remained tight-lipped on projects coming to the Greater Philadelphia area, Shiner and Wagner teased that there will be something big for the region’s true crime junkies.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Penn Museum unveils a new gallery that examines the struggles and resilience of Indigenous nations

For more than a decade, the Penn Museum has offered visitors an encyclopedic history and perspective on Native American history, with artifacts spanning from Alaska tribes to communities in the southernmost part of the continental United States.

On Saturday, the museum unveiled a new gallery showcasing the artistic, linguistic, spiritual, and revolutionary traditions of Native Americans across the country.

The Penn Museum’s "Native North America Gallery: Rooted in Resilience. Resisting Erasure" exhibit features more than 250 cultural items and art pieces.

Christopher Woods, Williams director of Penn Museum, said the new gallery builds on the institution’s expansive Native American collection while offering insights into the lives of Indigenous Americans today. It builds on a former gallery, which similarly focused on first-person narratives and consulted with Indigenous curators.

“We’re an archaeology museum, but this is really about Native American people today, and drawing on the connection between the past and the contemporary world. It’s important to show people that these are vibrant communities,” Woods said during a press preview. “Showing how strong they are, the nature of their resilience, the historical and cultural erasure, and having them speak in their own words is important.”

These works, which build on the previous exhibition, "Native American Voices: The People - Here and Now," that closed in July, offer a reframing of Native American history from four regions of the United States, including the Lenape Natives of the Delaware.

The immersive, multisensory exhibit includes a floral beadwork collar from the Northeast Lenape, a single-weave square basket from the Eastern Band Cherokee in the Southeast, a centuries-old clay ancestral mug from the Pueblo people of the Southwest, and a fringed ceremonial robe, known as a Chilkat blanket, from the Tlingit people of the Northwest.

Among the oldest items on view are chipped stone tools historically used by Native Americans, which were pulled from the Penn Museum’s collections. The newest items include a woven piece that was commissioned from Cherokee mixed media sculptor Brenda Mallory.

The gallery also includes images of regions the tribal nations have inhabited, interactive displays offering insight into the formation of their cultural items, tools, and regalia, and varying stories about their traditions, challenges, and resilience before and after European contact.

Alongside co-curators Lucy Fowler Williams and Megan Kassabaum, this comprehensive gallery was developed by cultural educators, archaeologists, and historians who are direct descendants and members of the tribal nations featured in the exhibit.

Among the eight Indigenous consultant curators, who served as narrative guides, were Jeremy Johnson, cultural education director of the Delaware Tribe of Indians, RaeLynn Butler, secretary of culture and humanities of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, and Christopher Lewis, cultural specialist of the Zuni Pueblo.

The consulting curators assisted in creating the narrative flow of the gallery and worked with the Penn Museum to recover lost history and study their ancestors’ practices. They also contributed their own art and cultural items to the gallery.

Upon seeing the exhibition for the first time on Thursday, Johnson said it was an “emotional moment.”

“It was overwhelming,” he said. “It’s not just a room with a bunch of paintings or drawings. These are actual people I lived with, know, and are related to. I can tell you about every person here. Being able to give our tribal citizens, considering everyone is a relative, a voice was really emotional. We’ve always been seen as relics of the past.”

Kassabaum said the concept of the exhibit began four years ago, but many of the gallery’s elements were shaped by the consulting curators, who willingly shared their stories and welcomed Kassabaum and others into their communities.

Kassabaum and other Penn Museum consultants traveled to Oklahoma to spend a week with members of the Delaware Tribe. They brought back four items, including the floral beaded collar, and let their protectors relay how they were made.

Those kinds of connections can’t be made without the help of the consulting curators, Kassabaum said.

“These aren’t my stories and they’re not my experiences,” he said. “I have not experienced any of the trauma of these communities. I have not experienced the joy of these communities, and everything people have been willing to share with us has been incredible. … No matter how giddy or passionate I am about anthropology and archaeology, I can’t bring the same thing to the gallery. It was totally essential.”

Unlike other exhibitions sprawled throughout the country, Johnson said Penn’s inclusion of him and his Native “relatives” was based in good faith rather than historical or cultural exploitation.

“We know certain art museums have been problematic in the past, and are still doing that work,” Johnson said. “But I feel this is the first time we were asked in the right way. It was in the spirit of an actual collaboration, instead of asking for items to display, and that’s it. This was a good process, and we hope it stands as a model for future exhibits.”

The opening ceremony of the Native North America Gallery kicked off with remarks from Johnson and the other Indigenous consulting curators.

Their remarks were followed by traditional dance, songs, and storytelling by New Mexico’s Tewa Dancers. There was also an artist talk by Holly Wilson of the Delaware Nation, curatorial presentations led by Johnson and Joseph Aguilar of the San Ildefonso Pueblo, and a series of family workshops.

The gallery, which is now on display, is available for online and in-person viewing.

Visitors can reserve guided, in-person tours on select days. Tickets are priced at $26 for members and $30 for general admission. For more information, visit penn.museum.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

An artist started befriending strangers in Pa. prisons. Now she is turning them into artwork.

Over the course of three years, Carolyn Harper and Donna Martorano became fast friends.

The two women, on different sides of Pennsylvania, lived very different lives and shared few similarities. But they bonded over emails, handwritten letters, and virtual visits.

Martorano shared tales of her family, her health issues, her hopes of reconnecting with her two sons, and her growing sense of detachment from the outside world.

They spoke daily, but before they could meet, Martorano died in July 2024 at age 74 at the State Correctional Institution in Cambridge Springs. She was serving a life sentence without parole for first-degree murder for contracting two men to kill her husband in 1992.

The official cause of her death was a heart attack.

Harper said Martorano’s past and conviction weren’t the end of her story. In the 32 years she was incarcerated, Harper said, Martorano became a certified braille transcriber and took violence prevention and mentoring programs.

But in her later years, she grew increasingly “bitter,” Harper said. Martorano was confined to her bed and wheelchair and was often bullied as her health worsened.

“Her spirits were crushed,” Harper said. “I really feel she died of a broken heart because she was not given institutional support. A lot of prison administrators just don’t care. She told me she had nothing left to live for.”

For the past five years, Harper, 60, has connected with dozens of other incarcerated people, some with stories similar to Martorano’s and others with far different lives.

These stories, Harper said, opened her eyes to the emptiness, detachment, and inhumanity people experience in prisons.

Their names, faces, and stories are now at the center of her latest portrait series, “Prison Portrait Project: Faces of Despair, Hope and Transformation," on display at Old City’s Muse Gallery.

Harper has placed their portraits on hand-sewn quilts and vibrant batiks, transforming the faces of those suffering from the country’s carceral system into artwork.

Like Martorano, several of Harper’s subjects are serving death sentences, with little to no path for early release or commutation. Harper has never asked specific questions about their pasts, and everything she knows about them is what she has been told voluntarily. But she’s certain about one thing: None of the people she has befriended is the same person they were when they were first incarcerated.

Pennsylvania, she found out, is one of two states in the country that has a mandatory life without parole sentence, known as “death by incarceration,” for both first-degree and second-degree felony murder.

“I have come to see that guilt or innocence, while important, is not the critical thing here,” Harper said. ”It’s the idea of redemption and rehabilitation. This, to me, is the real story — the story of transformation.”

For decades, people suffering from abuse, discrimination, and disenfranchisement have made their way onto Harper’s quilts.

In the mid-1990s, she created panels for the AIDS Memorial Quilt, a visual project that memorializes the hundreds of thousands of Americans who died from AIDS-related causes at the height of the epidemic.

She also developed a series of textile portraits championing queer love stories, and another shedding light on the systemic issues faced by those wrestling with dispossession and homelessness.

“People often come out of prison and don’t have a pathway to find a real job or housing,” Harper said. “I started to see that connection, and I became interested in the issue of incarceration.

“We pay lip service to this idea that prison is reformative, but really it’s punitive.”

Born in Rochester, N.Y., Harper moved to Philadelphia in 1989 to study art at the University of Pennsylvania. Her days volunteering as an art teacher at local homeless shelters from 2013 to 2020 are what first drew her to the links between homelessness, dispossession, and incarceration. She was driven to learn more about the state’s prison system.

After her best friend was arrested in 2020 for abusing his husband, Harper’s interest became a lived reality. The health of her friend, who struggled with addiction and mental health issues, worsened due to his incarceration. Shortly after his release in 2021, he took his own life.

That pushed Harper to join organizations such as the Coalition to Abolish Death by Incarceration, We The People Coalition, and others. She wrote postcards, letters, and emails to incarcerated people throughout the state.

Before this, a self-described “snowflake,” Harper would veer away from conversations about incarceration. She started out fearing that she wouldn’t be able to emotionally cope with the struggles incarcerated people endure and write to her about in their letters. But she grew to become a listening ear, resource, and friend to people seeking human connection.

Through her hand-sewn and fabric-dyed portraits, she encourages her audience to step outside their worlds and enter the worlds of her subjects. Through her art, she highlights the forgotten humanity of incarcerated people and uses their testimonies to draw attention to Pennsylvania’s “harsh sentencing laws,” and correct the misconceptions people hold of those who are incarcerated.

The “Prison Portrait Project” started off with Harper writing to the people whose names, faces, and stories make up her art. Would they send her a photograph, she asked, and consent to be a part of her exhibition?

Most replied with a photo or told Harper where she could find one. Others had family members send photos to her. After she sewed them or transferred them onto quilts, Harper shared images of the final pieces with the subjects of the expressive portraits.

“I think seeing their self-portrait, and knowing it’s going in an exhibition, helps them see themselves in a different light. And that can be empowering,” Harper said.

Each quilt and batik-style image features a written statement from the person who inspired the portrait, ensuring their stories (along with their faces) are integral parts of the exhibit.

A binder containing more stories, statements, and poems written by people Harper connected with through the years, sits at the front of the gallery. Three self-portraits of incarcerated artists are also on display.

Harper is hopeful the show will inspire audiences to view those who are incarcerated as people, rather than lifeless serial numbers and charge sheets.

“Most of us don’t think about people in prison. If we do, it’s sort of with the feeling, ‘Well, they probably did something and deserve to be there.’”

She wants people to recognize the lack of redemptive pathways for people upon release, and the need for advocates to protect, defend, and humanize Pennsylvania’s incarcerated population.

“Prison Portrait Project: Faces of Despair, Hope and Transformation,” through Nov. 30, Muse Gallery, 52 N. Second St., Wednesday to Sunday, noon to 5 p.m. musegalleryphiladelphia.com

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

The West Philly rapper whose work has landed on ‘Abbott Elementary.’ Twice.

When Philly artist Amir Bey Richardson first uploaded his rap songs online in 2010, he was told his music was “too corny” to garner an audience.

“I definitely had friends who encouraged me, but I had other friends who used to call it ‘bus driver rap,’” Richardson said. “Or they said, ‘Too many people rap. Get out of here.’”

Today, Richardson is a go-to musician-for-hire for major network shows, including for the Emmy-winning, Philly-set comedy series Abbott Elementary.

Richardson, who goes by Bul Bey, knows his music doesn’t have the same musical edge that has long defined Philadelphia’s hip-hop sound. But he makes up for it with his more soulful and personal hip-hop records that speak to his West Philly roots and connect with a wider range of rap fans.

“Philadelphia is one of those cities where rapping is held to a higher standard, so I had to listen to my heart,” he said. “I was an artist whether I wanted to be one or not.”

While his sound didn’t match that of his contemporaries, he believes it sets him apart from other Philly artists.

On the Oct. 22 episode of Abbott Elementary, Richardson’s 2024 track “Elbow Deep” can be heard in the background as characters Gregory and Janine (played by Tyler James Williams and show creator Quinta Brunson), set the vibe for a friendly hangout.

“I lost my mind when I heard it,” Richardson said. “There are some explicit moments in the song, but when I saw the scene, it all made total sense.”

This was the second time Richardson’s music was placed in the hit series.

Back in February 2022, Richardson sent an “awkward” introductory message on LinkedIn to Abbott Elementary music supervisor Kier Lehman. Among the tens of tracks Richardson pulled from his catalog to include in that message, the 2014 single “Where I’m From” struck a chord with Lehman.

In early 2023, the Grammy-nominated music supervisor reached out to Richardson to request the use of “Where I’m From” for season two, episode 19, of the show.

Richardson said he’s still processing the achievement. “Sometimes I go back to the episode just to make sure it wasn’t changed,” he said.

That song placement, Richardson said, arrived at a “time of desperation.”

After a decade of making music, Richardson was at a creative crossroads. He was confident in his musical talents, but it felt like there were limited avenues to showcase them. “I felt very lost and desperate,” he said.

He stumbled onto Abbott Elementary like everyone else. Only he paused the TV to find Lehman’s name in the credits and reached out to him months later on the networking platform.

While he’s now “embarrassed” by his direct message to Lehman, the eventual song placement was the first time Richardson was ever paid for his music.

“That was definitely me crossing a threshold,” he said. “And in my mind, I was like, ‘I have to do that again.’”

It would be two years until that would happen. Earlier this year, Lehman reached out to Richardson to use “Elbow Deep.” Richardson approved immediately.

In the meantime, that first placement opened several creative doors.

Between his role as an event coordinator for the Free Library of Philadelphia Foundation, Richardson dropped a pair of collaborative EPs with producers Sam Live and Patrick Feliciano. He also contributed music to WHYY programs, such as Albie’s Elevator and The Infinite Art Hunt, and served as host of the Franklin Institute’s So Curious podcast.

He was even tapped to narrate a Skechers ad featuring Sixers star Joel Embiid, showcasing his abilities as a voice-over talent.

It’s all been a surprising path, Richardson said. One that has inspired him to pursue avenues that meld his love of music and Philadelphia.

“It let me know I had a narrower view of what I could do as an artist,” Richardson said. “I wouldn’t say I’m doing unconventional things, but it’s more of a wider range.”

His goal is to be a more notable name for big-budget shows and eventually land a placement on a blockbuster film. He currently has his sights on Sony’s animated Spider-Man multiverse saga, which Lehman served as the music supervisor for in 2018.

For someone who started out making songs from his college radio station at Pittsburgh’s La Roche University, and now sees his name on TV screens, Richardson has learned to avoid limiting his art and musical reach. And to the friends who previously doubted his abilities, he’s proving his music can take him places he’s never been, including prime-time television.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

The Fairmount resident who dreamed up a women’s fightwear empire from her college apartment

Maya Nazareth was 17, living in Malaysia, when she started training in Brazilian jiujitsu and discovered the discomfort and limitations of women’s fightwear.

She kept adjusting her sports bra, fixing her rash guard and pants while trying to focus on the martial art that demands immense discipline and control. Nazareth, who struggled with body image issues, said the feeling of discomfort and frustration affected how she moved in the gym and in the world.

Back in the U.S, as a “naive” college student with $2,000 to her name, she dreamed of building Alchemize Fightwear, an apparel brand to empower women fighters across the world.

She founded the brand in 2020. Five years later, she won $300,000 on ABC’s Shark Tank, backed by Reddit founder Alexis Ohanian, Lori Greiner, and Kendra Scott in exchange for a 15% stake.

“I was having my chest exposed, my stomach exposed, and my pants fell during training,” she said. “That’s a huge barrier for women to train in these sports, especially in front of 50-plus men in a training room. I just thought I could create something better.”

Nazareth, who grew up in Malaysia and all over New Jersey, realized that she shared her reality with many women in male-dominated gyms and martial arts academies, who are often led to quit before they experience the confidence and power martial arts brought to Nazareth.

“Jiujitsu transformed me into someone who felt strong, powerful, and confident, but the gear I was training in didn’t make me feel that way,” she said.

While studying international business at the University of Delaware, Nazareth placed her first purchase order of rash guards from a manufacturer, trying them out herself and putting them to test.

Her college apartment was Alchemize’s first headquarters, and her car was a mobile sales office.

She started by surveying 1,500 fighters, from amateur athletes to professional competitors, asking them what elements would make their apparel more comfortable and functional for their specific disciplines.

Nazareth reshaped necklines in the tops, removed center seams from the bottoms, inserted silicone waistbands, and built in sports bras for added support and comfort.

What she offered was both stylish and functional for women fighters in jiujitsu, wrestling, and later boxing, Muay Thai, and other disciplines. They were all “customer-centric designs,” she said, that made for a more fluid and functional fit for martial arts practitioners. She even tapped MMA fighter Michelle Waterson to design a collection of her own.

“It’s nothing revolutionary,” Nazareth, 27, said, “but it’s really just thinking about the customer first and what they need from their fight wear.”

When she formed the brand in 2020, she built a company for every woman, in and outside the gym.

“Moms are fighters. People going through medical diagnosis are fighters. People trying to push through in their careers are fighters. And I think fighting is just a natural human movement that we all innately know how to do, want to do, and need training around,” Nazareth said.

“I really love that we have created an avenue for more women to step into that. I think it’s really powerful to say, ‘Hey, it’s safe to show up and express yourself in this way.’”

Under the Alchemize brand, Nazareth hosts free self-defense classes for survivors of domestic and sexual assault. She also organizes grappling camps in gyms and martial arts academies throughout the region to increase accessibility for women athletes.

“I’m personally passionate about what fight sports can offer survivors of assault and of domestic violence,” Nazareth said. “Just being able to make fight sports accessible to the everyday woman who may think, ‘I’m not a fighter,’ or who doesn’t see themselves rolling on the mat with a bunch of sweaty men. I think that’s something I’m really proud of and something I would like to continue doing.”

Her work and advocacy haven’t gone unnoticed. In December 2024, the Fairmount resident was named to the Forbes 30 Under 30 list for groundbreaking work in women’s sportswear and retail.

Less than a year later, she was pitching on Shark Tank.

She received an email from the Shark Tank production team in March 2025 and immediately questioned its legitimacy.

“I try not to overcommit to an opportunity before it happens,” Nazareth said.

Despite her initial suspicion, she filled out the application and took the phone screening. Two months later, she flew out to California to compete on the show.

”You never know if you’re going to actually air on the show or what’s going to happen,“ she said. ”But I started my business for the love of the sport and because I wanted to do something cool for women’s jiujitsu. So, every single opportunity that comes up, I try to do my best. It was really exciting.”

As she practiced her script, Nazareth took a moment to reflect on her journey. “I kept saying to myself, this is not the time to play small,” she said. “This is the time to be courageous.”

When she walked out to present, Nazareth said she “blacked out.” But her proposal sparked immediate interest from Ohanian.

She started out seeking a $250,000 investment in exchange for a 5% stake in Alchemize, and ended with $300,000 and a shared deal with Ohanian, Greiner, and Scott.

“It was really emotional and really, really cool,” she said.

In the months since the episode’s airing Oct. 22, Nazareth said the company has seen increased sales and a growing list of new customers. Having weathered the chaos of Black Friday, she looks forward to the slower Christmas season before things pick back up at the top of the year.

She’s excited about the new developments at Alchemize. In 2026, Nazareth and her business partner, Suzette “Suliy” Melendez, will launch the flagship Alchemize Fightwear Athlete Program.

The online program will support athletes as they scale their current and future businesses in and outside of combat sports. Melendez said the move aligns with Nazareth’s mission to empower women in sports and business.

“We want to give other women opportunities outside of jiujitsu and give them a platform to scale,” Melendez said. “Being able to have shoulders to lean on, on the mats or off the mats, helps create community with our events.”

Nazareth also plans to expand Alchemize’s sports camps, making it the “South by Southwest” of women’s combat.

Through all these ventures, the goal remains the same, she says: creating pathways for women to enter martial arts and encouraging them to “own their inner ferocity.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Bryn Mawr College’s first Black graduate had to walk a mile to get to class. A new monument honors her journey.

D.C. artist Nekisha Durrett first took the “Black at Bryn Mawr” walking tour at Bryn Mawr College in February 2023. It was there that she learned about Enid Cook who, like her, graduated from Dunbar High School in D.C., considered one of the first academically elite public high schools for Black students in the country.

Cook went on to become the college‘s first Black graduate in 1931. She studied chemistry and biology.

Despite the wishes of former college president M. Carey Thomas and other faculty who rejected the idea of admitting Black students, Cook was permitted to enroll in the women’s college in 1927.

On her admission to the college, Thomas and her successor Marion Park barred the future microbiologist from living on campus, forcing Cook to walk roughly one mile to and from class.

“I do not myself feel it would be wise to admit a colored student into residence at Bryn Mawr at the present moment … I should perhaps add that Miss Cook’s passing the entire series of examinations at one time so successfully as to put her ahead of a long waiting list would seem to me in the case of any applicant very unlikely,” Park wrote in a letter to the Quaker activist Paul H. Douglas, who was advocating for Cook’s admission to Bryn Mawr.

On April 24, on that same campus, Durrett’s Don’t Forget to Remember (Me), was unveiled to a crowd of students, faculty, and residents, who marveled at both the size and detail of the public art work.

The monument, a “woven” pathway of custom clay bricks, forms a “square knot,” symbolizing an unbreakable connection and commitment to honor all of Bryn Mawr’s history.

Don’t Forget honors Cook and the Black servants and groundskeepers who maintained the campus during the early 1900s. It spans a 5,800-square-foot area, roughly the same length as Cook’s commute to Bryn Mawr.

“This campus was literally built on the backs of Black men and women, and that labor has been unrecognized as it always is,” Durrett said. “It was unrecognized and uncelebrated until Black students wanted to take on the responsibility of bringing their contributions to light.”

Rather than a single, elevated monument “frozen in time,” Durrett, a Cooper Union alumna, said she wanted something more dynamic and timely.

Among the pathway’s roughly 10,000 pavers are those engraved with the names of 248 Black workers and staff members whose contributions were hidden or “erased” by the college.

Each brick is glazed with soil from Perry House, a Black cultural center that was established after student protests in 1972, demanding a more inclusive curriculum and staff, and a culture house.

“The times that we‘re going through right now, we‘re witnessing the blatant attempt to erase and twist history,” Durrett said. “This has always been happening, which is job security for me because these stories are going to be uncovered.”

The monument is situated in the Cloisters of the Old Library, an enclosed space where the ashes of Thomas were scattered after her death. The library was once named after Thomas.

Bryn Mawr Africana Studies and Museum Anthropology professor Monique Scott said the space is a “haunting” location for many Black students.

“Students let us know that the Cloisters was a space where they didn’t feel welcome, and felt kind of heavy for them,” Scott said. “And with [Durrett’s] artwork, we‘re hoping that will shift that energy. It‘s about making Black and brown students feel very welcome here and in this space.”

Thomas, who died in 1935, rejected Black students and potential workers from entering the college, fearing their presence would tarnish its reputation. And for those who made it to campus, she attempted to limit their visibility.

Below the Cloisters are service tunnels, where live-in domestic servants and other personal staff worked.

Given the college‘s complicated history, Scott said students, faculty, and staff have conjured ways to uncover Bryn Mawr’s “untold stories” through the Art Remediating Campus Histories (ARCH) Project.

Following a student-led strike in 2020, Scott said, students, faculty, and staff established oral history projects, walking tours, and accessibility initiatives to unravel the hidden or misrepresented elements of Bryn Mawr’s history.

Among students’ demands was the installation of a public artwork that represented inclusivity. Durrett’s proposal was picked out of 110 applications.

Her previous works include “And The Ancestors Say…," located in D.C.’s Duke Ellington School of the Arts; “We See You” at New York’s Times Square; and “Magnolia,” which memorializes Black women who were murdered by law enforcement.

“From the beginning, it was so profound, amazing, emotional, and powerful. It was so many things,” Scott said.

Don’t Forget was built in partnership with Philly’s Monument Lab, a nonprofit public art, history, and design studio. Durrett was assisted by a group of student researchers, who dug into the school’s archives to find the names and origins of the school’s Black students and laborers.

From the dust-covered documents to charred-edged time cards from the 1900s to the ’30s, they discovered former porters, waitresses, and groundskeepers who had worked on campus. Some were from the Philly region, and others had ventured from as far as Virginia to study and work at the university.

Given Durrett’s “profound brilliance” and willingness to work so closely with Bryn Mawr students and department leaders, Monument Lab director Paul Farber said the monument came out just as he envisioned.

“A monument doesn’t just have to tell us about our past. But it can be done in a way that’s expansive and inviting,” Farber said. “Leave it to an artist like [Durrett] to respond in the most thoughtful and critical ways, and open up history anew in expansive terms.”

While Durrett understands one monument won’t rid the world of racism or discrimination, she‘s hopeful the path inspires future students, faculty, staff, and alums to continue honoring the Bryn Mawr’s full history and remember the names embossed on the clay bricks.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Kendrick Lamar, SZA go full speed at the Linc for the ‘Grand National Tour’

The victory lap continues for Kendrick Lamar. The Compton rap star has journeyed a path few have blazed in hip-hop history.

He sparred with global phenom Drake and came out with a slew of No. 1 hits, five Grammy wins in 2025, and a record-setting Super Bowl halftime performance that will be dissected by hip-hop scholars for years to come.

But Lamar’s behemoth, “Not Like Us,” is only a glimpse into his true musical powers.

Aside from his 22 Grammys and a Pulitzer, the 37-year-old artist has drawn tens of thousands of concertgoers for an already record-breaking stadium tour.

Lamar and R&B supernova SZA generated $9 million for the opening concert of their "Grand National Tour” last month in Minneapolis, making it the highest grossing hip-hop show in music history.

The tour’s momentum remained immaculate at Lincoln Financial Field for Lamar and SZA’s stop in Philly on Monday night.

As DJ Mustard played a a 30-minute set by DJ Mustard, who played classics like “Swag Surfin’” by Fast Life Yungstaz and “We Are Young” by fun., thousands of fans slowly trickled into the stadium.

As the stadium lights flickered, Lamar rose onto the stage. He kicked off the show inside his now-trademarked Buick GNX, rapping the GNX album opener “wacced out murals,” embraced in smoke.

The show featured short skits of Lamar arguing with a lawyer-like disposition, mocking Drake’s recent attempts to take legal action following last year’s grudge match.

Even SZA, born Solána Rowe, gets in on the action. She’s seen correcting the off-camera lawyer’s pronunciation of her stage name in one video, then countering accusations that she has sought dysfunctional relationships for creative purposes.

That fiery intro set the tone for the show, which was adorned with hits from his platinum-selling GNX and SZA’s repackaged deluxe album, Lana.

Once Lamar closed out the first of eight acts with “tv off,” SZA rose to the stage with the same GNX, but perched on top of its moss-covered hood. While Lamar’s “squabble up” and “m.A.A.d city” reflected his rugged Compton roots, SZA basked in sultry tunes like “Love Galore” and “Broken Clocks” as a labyrinth of vines, praying mantises, butterflies, and other bugs flashed across the background screen.

The five-time Grammy winner was in full bloom, showcasing both her roaring vocals and sleek dance routines. While there were moments that seemed off pitch, she recovered as smoothly as her outfit changes.

Decked in knee pads and low-rise safari shorts, the “Scorcese Baby Daddy” singer serenaded the crowd with dazzling slow jams like “Kitchen” and hard-hitting tracks like “Low.” She took her bug fascination to new heights during “Garden (Say It Like Dat),” hopping on a giant mechanical ant she affectionately named “Anthony.”

Lamar’s performance remained sharp, calculated, and grounded. He attacked songs like “Like That” and the showstopper “Not Like Us” with unnerving intensity, while balancing the cunning bars with party records like “peekaboo” and SZA-assisted duets like “All the Stars.”

While the artistic contrasts between Lamar and SZA could alienate crowds, the pair found the perfect equilibrium throughout the nearly three-hour concert.

Lamar’s lyrical performance was impressive throughout the show, but moments like the Playboi Carti cover “Good Credit” and the sequencing of “Count Me Out” did stifle a bit of the momentum. But with over 50 songs shared between the two artists, most performed in full, there was bound to be a break in the action.

As the stadium tour journeys across North America and Europe, their Philly stop proved to be a balancing act with an Olympic-level landing. The concert was a melding of two performers, who are as electric together as they are on their own stages.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Dawn Staley, proudly ‘made in North Philly,’ wants everybody to know where she is from

No matter where Dawn Staley has gone in her basketball journey, she has taken Philadelphia with her as a companion, a teacher, and an inspiration.

In 1992, she was dropped from the U.S. National Women’s Basketball Team that won a bronze in the Barcelona Olympics because, she said to ESPN in 2021, of her lack of international experience and 5-foot-6 stature. Four years later, the undersized point guard led the team to its first gold medal in eight years.

After racking up five WNBA All-Star selections and two more gold medals, the North Philadelphia born-and-raised Staley was inducted into the Women’s Basketball of Fame in 2012.

In 2000, after initially rejecting the idea, she began coaching the Temple women’s basketball team, and soon transformed the program into a formidable one.

In 2008, she took over at the University of South Carolina, where her brash, old-school coaching style has led to three NCAA titles.

In her head, though, she is the same quiet, thumb-sucking kid, the scrappy guard from North Philadelphia’s Raymond Rosen housing projects, who has continued to honor her neighborhood, Staley said to The Inquirer over Zoom last week.

That love for Philly shines through in her memoir, Uncommon Favor: Basketball, North Philly, My Mother, and the Life Lessons I Learned From All Three.

“I’ve always respected where I grew up. I always carry my upbringing with me,” Staley said. “I’m unbothered by most things that are very challenging to others. It doesn’t matter, as long as it gets done. That’s what growing up in the projects does for you. And if you utilize the lessons, it will help you navigate through life.”

Released on Tuesday, the 239-page book takes readers to her childhood home on what has now been named Dawn Staley Lane, and reveals the dark moments that accompanied her personal and professional breakthroughs and losses.

Staley grew up in North Philly’s Strawberry Mansion, at 25th and Diamond Streets. This, she says in her book, shaped her into the fierce leader she’s become.

“My upbringing had taught me toughness, resilience, and that I could survive,” she writes.

She said she “saw women on TV playing basketball twice a year growing up. They probably played more than that, but I wasn’t in the house long enough … I saw national championships and I saw the Olympics and was like, ‘Oh, that’s what I want to do. That’s it.’”

Staley credits her unrelenting competitiveness, discipline, and gritty attitude to her no-nonsense mother, Estelle Staley, her four opinionated siblings, and her days playing pickup games at Moylan Recreation Center.

The recreation center, now named in honor of late Philly legend Hank Gathers Jr., is where Staley discovered her love of basketball. She was obsessed with the sport from the moment her first jump shot pierced the nylon net. And when boys passed her up for games, Gathers encouraged them to give her a chance.

Staley, on the other hand, refused to share her basketball unless she was among the first 10 players picked.

In her memoir, Staley details those formative moments, from Dobbins Technical High School to the Olympics. She also includes her true crime obsession.

Staley addresses the depression and mental fatigue she faced after winning the gold in 1996, the stockpile of injuries that shortened her pro career, her apprehensions to coaching, and the media bias she felt was directed at her South Carolina team during the 2023 NCAA tournament run.

“The book was relatively easy,” she said. “I’m an open book anyway. I don’t really hide anything. I just don’t really remember stuff. But the book made me remember stuff, so what I remembered, I’m going to share.”

Staley wasn’t inspired to write a book until a 2022 interview with Power 105.1 FM‘s The Breakfast Club, when radio host and author Charlemagne tha God asked her if she wanted to write one. She brushed it off, much like that initial coaching offer from Temple athletic director Dave O’Brien. But after a third national title run at South Carolina, she was ready to put her story to paper.

“A lot of people were asking me to do a book for such a long time,” she said. “It just didn’t seem like the right time to do it when they were asking … And then, when we had that undefeated season last year, it really sparked me to say, ‘This is really the time.’”

Her mother, Staley said, “was a disciplinarian.”

“And being the youngest child and not really having a say in your household because you have older siblings that are very opinionated, there were no freebies,” she said. “I got nothing easy. Nobody said, ‘Here you go.’ Everybody said, ‘Hey, we’re not going to give you anything. We’re going to challenge you, and we’re going to do it for the greater good of you.’”

Although she didn’t really understand that as a young person, “I think it forces you to create thick skin, toughen your armor, and it gives you pride to overcome the hurdles that’s thrown your way.”

Thus, the name Uncommon Favor.

Though she now lives in Columbia, S.C. Staley never veers too far from North Philly. She wears Eagles jerseys while coaching and her phone screen saver reads, “Made in North Philly.”

“I just think people really appreciate who I am, what I’ve become, and the fact that I never shy away from telling people where I’m from — no matter where I am, what country I’m in, or where I live. Everybody knows."

The city has embraced her right back.

In the coming weeks, Mural Arts will unveil the design of a new Dawn Staley mural on 28th and Diamond Streets, commemorating the hoops legend nearly 30 years after Nike revealed Staley’s first mural on Eighth and Market in 1996.

While she loves the public dedications, Staley hopes that Uncommon Favor, and her continued pursuits, inspires young Philadelphians roaming the same outdoor courts, recreation centers, and Chinese food spots as she did as a wide-eyed kid.

She also wants Philly to see the book and her story as a shared one, not just her own.

“It’s about us,” she said. “It’s not only my journey, but our journey. And I just think it’s going to be relatable to everybody that understands our hood.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer