The Spirit of Patton

Earlier in August, I took part in a two week artist residency in Patton, Pennsylvania. According to their website, the ART14 Residency was founded in 2023 in order to give artists a place to concentrate on projects in a comfortable, collaborative, and creative space. Stopping at the Welcome Center on my drive into Pennsylvania, I found it a little disconcerting that the knowledgable tourist guide wasn’t quite sure where Patton was. “Where am I going?” I thought to myself.

I didn’t know what to expect coming into the artist residency. After all, it was the first for me. I also learned that it was the first for the other artists, as well as our gracious hosts, the LaSota family—Kate, David, Warren, and Elijah.

What happened during those 14 days can be described in two acts.

Act One: Connection
Being the introvert that I am, I was very trepidatious about spending two weeks with strangers—sharing both living and studio space. I immediately thought of the MTV series The Real World and the crazy things that would happen episode after episode.

The L.a.Studio ART114 Artist Residency takes place in the former St. Mary’s parochial school. Artists have access to open studio spaces (including additional areas for clay, stained glass, and woodworking), fitness center, and shared apartments for the residents.

But something strange happened. Something wonderful. The four of us engaged in thoughtful and meaningful conversations. Questions were asked. And answered. The other three artists: Emily, a writer and painter; Eugena, a modern and performance artist; and Omari, a writer and actor; shared their courage and spirit. I wasn’t the elder—although I was the oldest in the room—we were peers on the way to becoming friends. For me, I want to know what happens with them after the residency. How did this experience change them or influence their work? As the photographer in the group, unexpected and rewarding collaborations happened. And I am happy for it. I am better for it.

A benefit of this artist residency—as I see it—is that it brings in people from outside the area to bear witness to what Patton has to offer. And in turn, it allows those in town to see and meet people not from the area. 

During the stay, artists’ objectives are self-prescribed. A writer and painter, modern and performance artist, writer and actor, and a photographer collaborated and were encourage to explore and engage with the local community.

Act Two: Spirit
As an avid traveler, I do a lot of shooting. As a photographer and a visual creative, storytelling is an important concept for me. It allows me to capture captivating moments and tell stories in a way that words alone cannot. 

Ansel Adams once said: “When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.”   

Wherever I go, I try and always have a camera with me—even if it’s the camera on my phone. I come in, document the light, color, shadows and moments a place has to offer, and move on. If I drew, I would journal my experiences—the camera is my pen and paper.

And during the first few days in Patton, I did just that.

For the first few days, I explored Patton—photographing what I saw on the surface.

Patton was a thriving and bustling borough in Central Pennsylvania. The Patton Clay Works, Patton Silk Mill, the Patton Box and Paper Company, Patton Shirt Company, and coal mining to name just a few. Street cars, hotels, a brewery, the Grand Theater and even Solomon’s Sweet Shop all lent itself to its vibrancy. The Clay Works—one of the largest clay and brick manufacturers in the world in the first half of the 1900s—manufactured bricks, terra cotta products, and pavers (known as “Patton Pavers”) from 1893 until it closed in 1968. Bricks made there were used in the construction of the Panama Canal, and the pavers were used around the Eiffel Tower in France, and still can be seen on a few of the roads and sidewalks throughout Patton. 

At its peak, I was told, Patton had thirteen churches and thirteen bars. And, something as simple as a Bobby Lee guitar strap which was  headquartered there, had Patton on the minds of musicians everywhere.

But times change. Industries change. People change.

The opening lines of the poem The Death of a Small Town by Jim Milks goes like this:
A town dies in so many small ways 
Over months and years, not merely days 
It fades away bit by bit…

And that’s what people see. A dying town. That’s what I saw. To be honest, that’s what I recorded and photographed. And, that is also what we heard. From many locals we met. Over and over again. “It used to be a great place to live.” “It’s such a depressed area now.” or “There was so much to do.” and “All the kids have moved away—there is nothing to keep them here.” 

And the ending is so often the same: Another town fades into history.

But Patton is different. People told us these things as a point-of-pride. I have never been in a place where—almost universally—people are pleasant, and friendly: “Good morning” says the construction worker riding past on his bike. And people on the streets stop to say “Hi. What brings you to Patton?” 

The people of Patton welcomed four strangers into their midst without hesitation or reservation. They offered their advise, insight, and knowledge while breaking bread or wandering their town. Inviting us into their homes and welcoming us into their businesses. We were in town for less than 24 hours and already were part of Father Ananias’ sermon at the Queen of Peace Church. Locals Joyce, Monica, and Bill were offering us history lessons while enjoying dinner with us. Phil was telling us jokes when we passed on the street. And just a few days later we were being invited to a firing range for a first-time experience by Tim and Amanda. 

Individually, and collectively, the four of us have witnessed this.

The people in Patton are courageous. Telling of personal histories, struggles, and losses. And they are nostalgic: reminiscing about a town they miss, about places they remember, and about a town they love.

It’s the spirit of these people that shines through. It would be easy to shut down and be shut-in. But they are open, honest, and good-natured.

An unknown author writes, “In every face, there’s a story waiting to be captured.”

Just a few of the people from Patton we met: Cindy, Stanley, Monica, Bob, Meredith, Bella, Andy, and Bill.

New industry is arriving: be it agricultural or alternative energy. And even an artist residency. Along with the continued spirit of those who live here, 

Yes, Patton has some buildings is disrepair, but the town will be alright. It will be more than alright. This town—this community—has so much more going for it compared to other small towns I’ve visited. Patton has a heart we can all embrace.

In A Century of Community, the book published in 1993 to honor Patton’s centennial, the dedication reads:

To the pioneers who came
to the headwaters of the
Chest Creek valley
seeking a better life.

To the ideals of our founder,
and those who followed
A.E. Patton’s dream of building
“A Town of Importance.”

To future generations who read
this account of our town,
embellish its strengths,
understand its weaknesses,
and move forward into the next
“100 Years of Community.”

Current industries in Patton include alternative energy (The Patton Wind Farm), recreation including Glendale Lake at the Prince Gallitzin State Park, and agriculture.

A week removed from my experience, I wish the tourist guide at the Welcome Center knew more about this community so he could help spread the word and let folks traveling from all corners know of its spirit.

I am honored to have been able to bear witness to what Patton has to offer first-hand.


Note: The L.a.Studio ART14 Residency now has an open call for their Winter 2023 residencies. If you need time to be creative—or just want to experience the spirit of Patton for yourself—I encourage you to apply at lastudio.org.


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