Pepón Osorio's new permanent public installation in North Philadelphia, "I have a story to tell you ... ," is a gem of a piece. Made of glass and steel and emblazoned with photographic images of men, women and children from Philadelphia's Latino community, Osorio's casita (little house) broadcasts its message of empowerment like a beacon.

Located in the courtyard of Congreso de Latinos Unidos on American Street, the casita--the first of five neighborhood art projects commissioned by Fairmount Park Art Association for the New Land Marks initiative--looks like a church and is built like a tank. It has a galvanized steel frame and 5/8-inch-thick glass that's impervious to graffiti. The frame's even painted what looks like Army-issue khaki green.

The little object is an outlier--fine, buffed and faceted--in an area of vacant lots and abandoned property. Embedded in the glass are 13 translucent photographs of people from the community, snapshots from local archives and from people's personal collections. Osorio selected them for the stories they represent--stories that communicate the love, hardships and triumphs of everyday people. It's the North Philadelphia Family of Man, a monument to local unsung heroes.

At the dedication June 18, Osorio put it this way: "We raised a giant mirror to reflect back the community."

The process of embedding the photographs in the glass to last for the ages was a challenge. Glass fabricator Derix Glasstudios in Taununsstein, Germany, invented a new procedure that trapped the images inside. The images, enlarged from the original prints, were then screen-printed in vitreous enamels (a kind of glass ink) on two sheets of glass then fused to give depth. The glass sheets were then tempered in a kiln for durability. There are 36 panels in the house.

Inside, the casita feels like a chapel, and the photos take on the aura of stained glass. At night, illuminated by interior lights embedded in the concrete floor, the place resembles a candlelit shrine.

When I stopped by the other night, action in the playground-friendly courtyard included kids running and biking in, out and around the house, and an adult basketball game out back. Burns security guard Anthony Okokuro, hired to keep an eye on the casita, said the kids have been "very peaceful." The Nigerian-born Okokuro said if the children get rowdy, he sends them home.

In addition to the 13 images in the casita, two more photo-windows, made by the same embedding process, were installed in Congreso's second and fourth floors. You can't see them from the outside during the day, but they're great from the inside, and at night, backlit by ceiling lights, the images are visible (and readable) from a block away.

For Alba Martinez, former Congreso director and now commissioner of Philadelphia's Department of Human Services, art was a natural for the Congreso building on American Street. In the press materials for the project Martinez says, "It was very clear to us that a family and workforce development center in the heart of North Philadelphia needed to involve the arts and culture. We believe that culture can transform communities."

Osorio is also a believer in the transformative power of art. Throughout his career, the Puerto Rico-born artist who now lives with his family in Philadelphia has made art about Latino men, women and children.

"My principal commitment is to return art to the community," says the artist. Osorio, a MacArthur fellow (the "genius" award) and winner of many awards including the 2001 Skowhegan Sculpture Medal, had a previous career as a social worker during which he heard a lot of poignant stories and developed a passion for communicating them.

Other works by the artist have portrayed a darker picture. This piece focuses on the positive side, a response to community members who told the artist they were tired of seeing Latinos portrayed in a constant stream of negative images.

The dedication was like a grand house party, hugs all around. A Latin jazz ensemble from Asociación de Músicos Latino Americanos played, and Osorio, who seemed to know everyone, took people on tours and told stories about the making of the piece. Honored guests included the families and organizations that donated photographs for the piece.

New Land Marks, a pro-gram begun in 1997, has been compared to the city's Mural Arts Program in its focus on grassroots involvement in art-making. This piece cost approximately $270,000, and that includes everything from architects' fees, fabrication and construction costs and artists' fees, says Penny Balkin Bach, executive director of the Fairmount Park Art Association (FAPA). Funding came from the FAPA, the William Penn Foundation, the Andy Warhol Foundation and the Independence Foundation. Look for the second New Land Marks piece, by Ed Levine, this fall in Pennypack Park.

Some say art programs like these divert funds from more direct service programs in the inner city. But that's just quibbling. This public monument, like all good public art, is a service provider. It offers intangibles like pride, hope, wonder and beauty--things that may not pay the rent but can transform the daily grind into something a little better. Bienvenidos, casita.

Copyright Philadelphia Weekly