The sculptures are made from items found around any home: bread, Q-Tips, thread, soap, dental floss, floor wax, coffee. With pencils, pastels, glue and other supplies, incarcerated artists across Connecticut have fashioned these household materials into sculptures of the devil, the grim reaper, a castle and Garfield the cat. The artworks are on display at Eastern Connecticut State University’s art gallery as part of the Prison Arts Program’s annual exhibition, running through Feb. 28.
The exhibition features more than 600 pieces created by 161 incarcerated artists, showcasing how access to creative outlets fosters rehabilitation and helps people maintain connections to their families and communities. The Prison Arts Program, run by Community Partners in Action, has operated since 1978.
Jeffrey Greene, the program’s manager since 1991, said the organization worked with vocational programs that operate through the Department of Correction. Some participants spend time making boxes or wall signs in carpentry class or creating art through prison industries.
The program operates artist collectives in five of Connecticut’s state prisons, where artists gather every two weeks. In facilities without a collective, Community Partners in Action provides supplies and resources, sometimes meeting individually with artists.
Bryan Moore was released from Connecticut Department of Correction custody in January after seven years of incarceration. He started participating in the Prison Arts Program in 2022 and became a prolific portrait artist.
“Just to discover a collective of like-minded artists who were looking to create art for themselves, for their families, and to use as a means to escape the bleak prison surrounding,” Moore said.
He estimated he drew around 350 portraits during his incarceration — sketches of other incarcerated people, celebrities, animals, and family members’ children and pets. For Moore, the work created connections within the prison community.
“It’s a lonely place, but when all of a sudden you have a skill that’s useful to people within the prison community, that ability to socialize is increased tenfold,” Moore said.
He described art as a path to rehabilitation. “Every hour that I’ve spent drawing somebody is an hour that I’m not thinking about reoffending. Every hour that somebody’s creating one of these paintings, he’s not thinking about his addiction. It’s replacing anti-social behaviors that got us there with pro-social behaviors,” Moore said.
Remarkable Creations
Several artists have created striking pieces through the program. Edwin Leon used the carpentry workshop to upholster an armchair in leather, carving out a Batman silhouette and the word “Gotham” on the chair back, and marking the seat cushion with the Batman logo.
Other artists used carpentry classes to make jewelry boxes for family members. Two built dollhouses for their daughters. One dollhouse includes tiny furniture and miniature television screens showing scenes from Bluey and Spiderman, with a pink painted roof bearing the names “Aviana” and “Peanut” carved on one side.
Changing Perspectives
Greene reflected on the program’s significance. When asked by the family of a crime victim why he worked with an incarcerated person who had harmed their loved one, he said: “The way that any one person lives in the prison affects everyone living in the prison.”
Positive action, he said, affects the other people living in the facility. The artwork also changes how families view their incarcerated relatives. “The artwork can give family members a reason to feel proud of their incarcerated relative, when previously they might have felt only shame,” he said.
After the exhibition closes, most of the artwork will be sent to the artists’ families.
A Vision for the Correctional System
Karim Ismaili, president of Eastern Connecticut State University and a criminologist by training, said the exhibition aims to move beyond defining people in prison solely by the single crime that led to their incarceration.
“This artwork that we see today was created under very difficult circumstances, often with limited materials, yet it speaks clearly to imagination, persistence and humanity,” Ismaili said.
For Greene, the program represents a different possibility for the correctional system itself. “We have created a totally horrendous reality in our correctional system. It’s horrendous. It doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “It’s very easy to change that environment, and that’s what prison arts is about.”