Photo by Jay Paul
The Ashe Monument
Monument Avenue and Roseneath Road
It started as a meeting between artist Paul DiPasquale and Arthur Ashe at a tennis demonstration for youngsters at Byrd Park, where the young Ashe wasn’t allowed to play; it evolved into a freestanding tribute. At the time, Ashe was planning the Hard Road to Glory African-American Sports Hall of Fame for Richmond.
In a January 1993 telephone conversation with the artist, Ashe described how he envisioned his image depicted, down to an assortment of books and untied shoelaces. The last detail he gave to the artist — almost as an afterthought — was a tennis racket.
DiPasquale expected to meet Ashe again, but within two weeks of their discussion, the athlete died. The artist attended the massive funeral; back at his home, a package from New York had arrived. He found inside several photographs and a note: ‘Hey, Paul, I wanted you to have these. Let’s talk soon — A. Ashe.’ ”
Ashe had left the photos on his desk before his death; his widow, Jeanne Moutoussamy-Ashe, collected and sent them to DiPasquale.
Ashe’s death froze the hall of fame proposal, but the concept of a monument continued through the Ashe family, DiPasquale and the Virginia Heroes nonprofit mentoring group. Virginia Heroes endeavored to raise funds for a 12-foot high statue and discussed its placement. Among the ideas: Belvidere and Broad streets (where Virginia Commonwealth University’s Institute of Contemporary Art now sits); the Byrd Park tennis courts; Brown’s Island near Tredegar Iron Works at the then-Valentine Museum’s Riverside industrial museum.
At a March 1995 Virginia Heroes event, a scale model of DiPasquale’s work was unveiled, and Gov. Douglas Wilder unexpectedly declared that the statue would go on Monument Avenue. The notion didn’t receive unanimous approval. Even DiPasquale believed that announcing the location before a study meant the work wouldn’t get finished, much less installed.
The concept was co-opted by political forces less interested in public art and more interested in making a point. A culmination came at the July 17, 1993, Richmond City Council meeting, a seven-hour ordeal that featured an array of residents, black and white, who largely opposed the proposed location. Around 1 a.m., Council voted 7-0, with one abstention, to place Ashe’s likeness on Monument Avenue.
Controversy continued unabated. The strongest objection came from Moutoussamy-Ashe. She wrote an op-ed essay that appeared Jan. 1, 1996, in the Richmond Times-Dispatch stating that the Monument site contradicted her husband’s wishes both for the Hall of Fame and his tribute, and that he would not have wanted the loud disputes about the work. In a second vote on Feb. 26, 1996, City Council reaffirmed the location at Monument and Roseneath.
DiPasquale was torn between Ashe’s personal recommendations and his family’s guidance, and caught in the middle of a divided artistic community.
In the end, momentum made a monument.
On Ashe’s birthday, July 10, 1996, before an estimated 2,000 spectators, the statue portraying Ashe’s athletic and humanitarian achievements was unveiled. A few Confederate-flag waving protesters made noisy objections that were largely overwhelmed by the massed voices of fervent choirs.
Photo by Jay Paul
The Boulevard Proposal
Wilfred Emory Cutshaw, a blunt, persuasive, one-legged Confederate veteran, accomplished much for Richmond during his career as city engineer (1873-1907). So much, that a Museum District avenue bears his name, and a historic marker by Byrd Park’s Roundhouse summarizes his achievements, chief among them designing the Boulevard.
Cutshaw doted upon Reservoir Park (soon named for city founder William Byrd) and oversaw construction of that grand gray stone Pump House (1884). Along with these improvements came the need for an efficient but aesthetic way to get to them. Cutshaw’s vision transformed a dusty country lane called Clover Street into an impressive, 92-foot wide, 2.3-mile urban thoroughfare. He dubbed it “Boulevard,” so designated in 1890. It took 12 years to complete.
Boulevard’s sense of magnificent urbanity received gradual stylistic complements — porch-piled apartment buildings, architect-designed private residences, churches and cultural institutions.
Boulevard north of Broad Street didn’t receive equal attention to style and gave way to automobile dealerships and mechanic’s shops, a forest of advertising signs and median parking. This is how Arthur Ashe would have known that stretch of Boulevard when he lived here.
By the time of its 1986 state and national historic landmark designations, Boulevard had lost its luster. Residents and Realtors, investors and entrepreneurs unified to halt further deterioration, overhauling dozens of dilapidated buildings.
Today, Council member Kimberly Gray is taking another admittedly risky go at getting Ashe’s name attached to Boulevard. Previous efforts, in 1993 and 2003, weren’t advanced by district representatives, she says.
“I think this is an opportunity to show that our city is in a different place,” Gray says. Mailing address alterations are a primary objection, but post office regulations account for delivery to name-changed streets for two years following.
Ashe’s nephew David Harris approached Gray about dedicating Boulevard to his uncle’s memory; Gray wanted first to know if Ashe’s widow and daughter approved. “People have said nasty, hurtful things,” Gray says. Then too, the Ashe family had already endured the controversy about his statue’s Monument Avenue placement in 1996.
Gray met with Mayor Levar Stoney and received support in a Scott’s Addition Boulevard Association meeting. Gray sought dialogue with members of other neighborhoods potentially affected by the change. Tornado threats postponed one meeting; another in early October proved contentious.
Richmond’s Land Use, Housing and Transportation Committee will revisit Boulevard’s possible name change on Dec. 18; if the change is approved, a January 2019 City Council discussion will follow.
Championing a change to Arthur Ashe Boulevard isn’t politically expedient, Gray acknowledges. She says, “This is a way to do something positive and to demonstrate that there is far, far more good in our city.” She plans further talks with residents in the neighborhoods that border Boulevard.
Though his hometown wasn’t always kind to Ashe in former years, now, Gray says, “You’d think … a son of Richmond who goes into this wider world and achieves great recognition would be received with acclaim and excitement. He’s not only a symbol of his people, but what’s best in all of us.”
Portrait
National Portrait Gallery
Arthur Ashe arrived promptly at 2 p.m., Oct. 22, 1992, at artist Louis Briel’s Carytown studio to pose for an official portrait. Acquainted with Ashe through his participation in the Virginia Heroes mentoring program, Briel knew of the tennis star’s ill health. In their time together, Ashe experienced “good days and bad days.”
Briel spoke about the sitting process for Kristen Norton’s 2010 Florida State University thesis, “I Am a Citizen of the World: Constructing the Public Memory of Arthur Ashe.”
Given the hours needed to complete a from-life portrait and Ashe’s condition, Briel asked photographer Barry Fitzgerald to document the session. He also invited a sixth-grader who was in the Virginia Heroes program to watch. Briel painted another portrait of Ashe that included the student, sitting cross-legged with a sketchbook in his lap, gazing up at Ashe.
Midway into the session, Ashe rested his hands on the racket’s grip, its head against the floor. The unintended symbolism is reminiscent of an inverted torch on a crypt, signaling a life extinguished. Briel said, “I knew that the pose was important because it happened so naturally.” Ashe’s attire — “the shirt, tie and racquet,” was “so typical of the last days of [his] life — on the lecture circuit to promote the causes in which he believed.”
Ashe left the session, never to return due to his advancing illness. Briel persevered, completing a tribute portrait.
The Smithsonian Institution acquired Briel‘s original portrait in 1993.
Briel’s original “Hero and Mentor” painting is on permanent loan to the Virginia Museum of History & Culture.
What happened to Virginia’s Heroes?
By Fadel Allassan
The legacy of the late Arthur Ashe, the three-time Grand Slam-winning tennis legend, extends far beyond the boundaries of a tennis court. That is exactly how Ashe, who was born and raised in Richmond, would have wanted it.
In 1991, Ashe founded the Virginia Heroes program to mentor middle school students in the city. The program paired middle school students with local professionals to hone skills they’ll need to develop — whether it be social skills, test-taking strategies, or cooperating with others. The mentors would meet with students twice each month for about an hour.
While the program operated in multiple Richmond schools, its focus eventually shifted to Elkhardt-Thompson Middle School, and it is now led by Keith Hicks, a local business analyst.
“We chose sixth-graders because they’re coming from a setting where they’re used to being the big kids on the block,” Hicks says. “A lot of times when kids come into a new setting where they’re not comfortable, they can shut down.”
But the program, which was previously listed as a nonprofit, has come under duress in recent years. Funding came from Richmond Public Schools, but that ended in 2015, and without funds, the charity went dormant and lost its 501(c)(3) status.
But Hicks is confident that will change this year, as he is preparing a proposal for Richmond Public Schools Superintendent Jason Kamras to recover funding for a 2019 return. Hicks says he’s hoping that the more than 8,000 children who have been helped so far will be only the beginning.
Photo by Jay Paul
Arthur Ashe Jr. Elementary School
1001 Cedar Fork Road
Howard Rogers, then Henrico County’s Fairfield District School Board member, announced in April 1994 that he intended to recommend that a new school be named for Ashe. The board on May 26, 1994, voted unanimously for that name.
Photo by Jay Paul
Arthur Ashe Jr. Athletic Center
3017 N. Boulevard
The Richmond Times-Dispatch, ahead of the 1982 opening of the Ashe Center, charitably called the $4 million, 6,000-seat brick-faced structure “handsome.” Ashe, then a syndicated columnist and author and the captain of the U.S. Davis Cup team, attended the Nov. 18 dedication ceremony.
The newspaper approved of the name because Ashe was “one athlete who has frequently reminded young persons that the quest of excellence in sports is but one dimension of their school life — and not the most important, at that.”
The first game played there, Dec. 3, was a high school basketball doubleheader, in which Armstrong-Kennedy won 53-50 over Jefferson-Huguenot-Wythe. The city took over the center in 1989. Four years later, Ashe’s funeral occurred at the Center; more than 6,000 attended.
The school-system-owned Ashe Center’s future is uncertain. The building’s present struggles include four balky and soon-to-die air conditioning units. Swapping them out would cost $1.5 million; $750,000 would replace the two lowest-performers. Richmond School board member Jonathan Young said of the “antiquated” Ashe Center in an August WRIC-TV report, “It’s not utilized to its fullest potential, and because of that, the taxpayers are at the short end of a long stick.” Young proposed selling the building and re-investing the proceeds into schools in dire need of assistance.
The Times-Dispatch reported that Superintendent Jason Kamras “estimated that the school system uses the Ashe Center … about two dozen times per year.” Community organizations rent it about 12 times per year.
In September and October, the board decided not to decide to authorize repair funds. Members cited the need for further study. Other schools are first in line for critical care. The question remains: Can the schools go without the center? If not, what would replace it, and when?
Photo by Jay Paul
Tunnel Mural
Battery Park
A sketchy portal, renewed through the conscientious, colorful visions of artists Hamilton Glass and Sir James Thornhill, links Ashe to his occasional use of the Battery Park tennis courts.
Ashe’s words — “To achieve greatness, start where you are, use what you have, do what you can" — adorn the tunnel entrance on the tennis court side. Ashe is depicted hefting the Wimbledon trophy wearing his warmup jacket. At the south basketball court entrance, there is a heroic image of Ashe wearing his large aviator-style eyeglasses, brow furrowed, face toward the light. Brief statements about Ashe’s life line the 2,200-square-foot tunnel.
The Upholding Networking Inspiring Togetherness in Celebration of Yesterday (U.N.I.T.Y) Street Project undertook the work last year, part of its series of neighborhood murals celebrating important Richmond historical figures to “highlight the history of the community,” Glass told Style Weekly. The dedication occurred two days after what would have been Ashe’s 74th birthday. The artists received assistance from corporate partners, the Battery Park Association and the Richmond Tennis Association.