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It’s a particularly warm July evening when I meet Olivia Doyon at Ringer Park. Next to us, a tennis match ensues. Next to the tennis match, a basketball game ensues. The sun is starting to set. It casts a golden hue over the green.
This interview has been edited for clarity.
How did your relationship with Allston first form? I’m actually from New Hampshire. I moved to Boston when I started going to MassArt (Massachusetts College of Art and Design), and then I stuck around. Since then, I haven’t really wanted to live anywhere else. I like the vibe here. I like being around other artists.
There’s people who are either left-brained or right-brained. Right-brained is more creative. There are a lot more right-brained people in Allston. The rest of Boston is left-brained. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Obviously, you need a balance of both. But I feel more at home in Allston-Brighton.
What made you want to get more involved in the Allston community? It started with going to shows around Allston-Brighton — going to O’Brien’s (3 Harvard Ave), going to house shows. That’s the most lively scene in Allston-Brighton. There are a lot of DIY house venues and people trying to start bands and make things happen here.
I also started to learn about the history of Boston through my boyfriend, who’s significantly older than me. He has a lot of fond memories that give me a sense of nostalgia for things I didn’t experience. I see how much change is already happening in our environment around us, and I don’t want us to lose the memories that I have of Allston, like he lost the memories that he had of Allston. There are so many venues that have come and gone.
There’s still some staples like Mr. Music (128 Harvard Ave), Looney Tunes (16 Harvard Ave), Ritual Arts (153 Harvard Ave), that have been there forever. Then there are places that have changed constantly.
You lose the stories if you aren’t talking to people that are older than you.
I’m around people who are Allston-Brighton Connectors (ABCs) who are older. They’ve grown up here, and I learned so much about the neighborhood through them.
Harper’s Ferry was this crazy venue in the sixties where they’d have people dancing in cages. It was very psychedelic. There are people who I’ve talked to who remember seeing Jim Morrison playing on Washington Avenue, in places that weren’t venues. It was DIY stuff.
The older people tell me the rich history of what made Allston-Brighton Allston-Brighton, why it was so weird, why it was so artsy. I just want to keep it that way. Who is going to be our generation’s Jim Morrison? Are we going to see them in a house show around here? Does that keep happening if things keep changing and artists can’t live here anymore?
Do you have any particular memories that just give Allston? The last show that I went to at the Sound Museum (35 Hichborn St) where we wrecked the room afterwards. Or your friend telling you that there’s a house show going on here, and you just wander into some strangers’ basement. Every once in a while, I drive by Kinross Community Center and I see the lawn full of people. You just walk over there and maybe it’s a poetry reading, maybe it’s an acoustic set, or maybe it’s this crazy gallery-music show-poetry reading that also had Clown Town happening.
How did you set down roots as an artist in Allston? I studied Film at MassArt. Being a student in Boston, sometimes you’re in a bubble. It isn’t until you graduate and move into the neighborhood that you realize that there are entire people’s lives happening outside of what you’re doing as a student.
I do tattooing. Last summer, I did some hand-poke rat tats on the hill in Ringer Park (85 Allston St). At the Silhouette Lounge (Sil, 200 Brighton Ave), I offer my own designs of the Sil tattoo. Anyone who has a tattoo of a rat with wings or of the Sil logo can get a free hot dog.
Once I started doing markets around here, I started getting to know other artists that were working in the area, I started to get to know people who were doing murals around here, starting to tattoo them, and starting to exchange art with them.
You start putting the pieces together: “Oh yeah, I know who did that mural. I know who this person at the market is.” Or I’m sharing with people when other markets are happening. Or maybe someone is starting a really small market, and you know who to tell them to invite.
What was it like seeing your art published in Zone 3’s magazine? That’s one of those things that makes smaller artists feel like, “Okay, this is a big thing that’s happening to me, and I’m an artist now. People are asking for my art. My art is attainable.”
Zone 3 (267 Western Ave) is helping people take that first step. Same with Rat City. There’s a program for established artists to mentor teens and how to start an artist lifestyle, even if it’s just as a side job. These are great building blocks for getting people moving, especially if they don’t have footing in the community already.
How does Allston, as a neighborhood, influence your identity as an artist?
Because there are a lot of weird people here, I can make some really weird art, and someone’s going to like it.
Being here makes me indulge in making weirder art. A lot of my art revolves around fantasy and childhood whimsy. There’s a lot of Celtic inspiration and spiritual inspiration. And I’m really inspired by nature.
Being in the city, you can get really disconnected from nature and from what it is to be human, what it is to be part of nature, and what human connection is. I like to connect people back to childhood whimsy, especially when you’re in a very politically active city. Obviously, I don’t want to detach from politics, but I also want to give a little relief from the constant stress of the political environment, and try to remind people of their place in the world at large and in nature. Just remember the whimsy of childhood, of funny little creatures, and thinking fairies were real, and just having fun with it, you know?
Where did that notion of whimsy come from? When I met my current partner, through talking about art a lot, I started to realize that the things that you like when you’re a kid don’t really change when you’re an adult. A lot of the time, the things that you found amazing and inspiring as a kid are the same.
I was obsessed with fairies when I was a kid. I was pretty convinced that dragons were real. If you ever read the Dragonology book, or Wizardology, or Egyptology — these really cool picture books that made a very convincing argument about high fantasy things being real. It felt almost scientific. It was like some 1800s explorer had gone abroad and was like, “Here are my findings.”
My point with this is that indulging in that little bit of fantasy is something that we lose a lot when we become adults. It makes life really dull. Logic is important, but you should allow yourself to wonder or make up your own reasons for things. It’s the same reason why people might believe in ghosts. Maybe it was just creaky floorboards. But wouldn’t it be amazing if this place was a little haunted? Isn’t that more interesting if life were that way?
Your mindset is what makes your environment interesting.
Do you have any dreams for art you want to make? I want to work on more murals. We should just have more in general. I’m only just now in the planning stages of painting an electric box over by the Model (Model Cafe, 7 N Beacon St). But I want to do more visible art, that isn’t like something that the City of Boston just bought from an artist who doesn’t live here.
Like the statue in Boston Common, The Embrace — I get the sentiment, but I would hate it if that was here in Allston, because that’s not the energy here. Versus the Rita Hester Memorial (40 Armington Street), that’s Allston-Brighton. It feels good to have that here.
Outside of being an artist and being an ABC, one of my goals is to have more artist spaces and have a community center within the next five years.
From where do you draw these sorts of ideas for community change as an Allston-Brighton Connector? I run this page called Allston-Brighton Underground. It’s just me. It’s nothing big. It’s just supposed to be a way to post things, to get people aware of events that are happening and resources that might be relevant at the time. Through that, I can connect people to resources and also figure out what kind of resources we need.
Just hearing from people that I either tattoo or people that I meet through events. At Allston-Brighton Health Collaborative, we’re always tabling at the Brighton Farmer’s Market (30 Chestnut Hill Ave), which is another place where we meet people and hear about community needs. For instance, there’s the people’s budget coming up. “What are people thinking about doing for the people’s budget? Where do you think that $2 million would best be spent in Allston-Brighton?”
It’s a little bit here, a little bit there. I want to start sitting at the Sil with a sign that says, “Please ask me questions!”
Like those old men! Like those old men, yeah. Like, “Here’s some free wisdom, but I’m actually trying to get some wisdom from you.” Maybe drunk people aren’t always the great place to source wisdom, but they are going to talk your ear off. I want to hear from anyone who’s willing to talk.
Were you always interested in being engaged in your community? Growing up, I definitely was not as engaged in my community. I’m not a naturally extroverted person. Seeing your neighborhood change in ways that you don’t like it — it pushes you to get involved.
You realize, “Okay, I need to shit or get off the pot. I need to do something. I need to get involved. I need to step out of my comfort zone to do these things.”
There was an opportunity to speak at Jackson-Mann (Jackson-Mann Community Center, 40 Armington Street) to advocate for a community center. I hate public speaking. It makes me feel like I’m going to die. I do not like that at all. I get the shaky voice, but I realized it was important to talk about that. You force yourself out of your comfort zone, and then other people see you do it, people who are afraid of how to do this thing, and that at least gives them some framework. It’s something to give them more confidence and realize that just saying anything is important, just being there is important.
Being a community member came from not wanting to be complacent and then complain later about everything changing when I didn’t do anything while it was happening.
Going back to whimsy, what places or people embody whimsy around you? The whimsy of Allston is that you can wander around and see something happening, whether it’s a show at O’Brien’s, or at Kinross Community Center, or even the Brighton Farmer’s Market. There’s nature here, there’s a lot of families here and people willing to help and be community members, which does make a more whimsical environment.
One reason I like Allston-Brighton is that it’s pretty safe. You have to be on your toes, but my boyfriend and I do a lot of walking at night because at 11pm, in the neighborhood, it gets really quiet. At night, the world’s just a different place.
Wandering around at night, you can discover interesting things. There are lots of weird little footpaths around Allston-Brighton. You wander off the beaten path, and you might end up in the cenacles behind Education First. There’s this weird little grotto back there. You might wander by Boston College, where there is this cool hidden garden called Houghton Garden.
You can also leave Allston-Brighton and see even more. My favorite place in the general area is Mount Auburn. It’s just a magical place. It’s the only place around here where I can see fireflies right now. You go there and suddenly, it’s quiet, and suddenly, there’s a fox. And you can walk up the tower and be like, “Oh yeah, there’s Allston right over there.”
Things that are engaging aren’t always necessarily where there’s a gathering or an event happening. Sometimes it’s just wandering around and realizing, this is where the bunnies go to sleep at night, or seeing the turkeys and the trees and being like, “Life isn’t just about me. There are other things happening here.” It isn’t just about the coolest place to be, or the newest thrift store. It’s about winding down and seeing this slow world around you.
Do you have plans to leave? I have no plans to leave Allston-Brighton. If I were to, I’d either be in Western Massachusetts or Scotland. I don’t think I want to be anywhere else, because I’m really tied to the New England attitude.
What is your purpose for creating art, and what inspires that art? With art, my ultimate goal is a connection between humans, nature, magic — whatever you want to call it. This notion of feeling connected to each other and to your environment at large.
So much of that has been happening for the span of humanity through folklore, folk art, folk practices, which is why I look a lot to Celtic art and art of ancient civilizations. Why has tattooing resonated with people for so long? Why has even wearing jewelry resonated with people for so long? Why is dressing up as creatures or animals and having a festival is something that we still do?
I was definitely an introverted kid. I had my few friends, but I was very introverted.
A lot of my entertainment comes from imagining and entertaining myself. That’s the opposite of “connection”, but that’s trying to connect to the pieces of the world that you don’t understand yet, to yourself, making up reasons why things are happening, and indulging in that fantasy.
Like the reason that the cookie that I left out yesterday that isn’t here today is because of fairies, not because my mom threw it out or the dog ate it.
Otherwise, inspiration definitely comes from people in Allston-Brighton in a motivational way. Seeing other people struggling or succeeding — whatever it is — living an artist lifestyle — is inspiring. My boyfriend has been an artist his whole life, and, going through the sometimes not-so-great, “starving artist” lifestyle, to be where he is today, is inspiring. It’s inspiring to see people so validated and fulfilled and connected with their art and making art. Having a piece of themselves be shared with others and appreciated is so fulfilling.
It’s fulfilling to see someone else do that and succeed, and just seeing people try so hard, work that extra mile. Maybe they are a starving artist, maybe they’re balling on a budget, but they’re doing it. They’re people that realize, “Money isn’t important to me.” It’s making art or making connections with other people, making music. They’d rather struggle than be just happy enough.
If you were speaking to Allston-Brighton artists like this who want to get more involved with their community, what would you say? There are resources. It might seem like you hit a wall and you don’t know where to find these things, or that no one cares. But there are resources. There are amazing new resources happening all the time, every day. Sometimes they’re DIY. Sometimes it’s Warm Up Boston tabling at some house show. Sometimes it’s the art swap boxes that are at Zone 3 where you can put art tools in and take things out. Sometimes it’s people handing out Narcan at a show at the Model.
There’s always going to be resources for artists around here. If you feel stuck, just message someone from the Allston-Brighton Health Collaborative, you can message me on Allston-Brighton Underground.
The frightening start of relying on art as an income is a hill to get over, and the reward on the other side is so immense, not just for yourself, but also for your community members and feeling connected to one another.
What is your outlook on your life and its purpose? Tattooing is a way that I connect people to the fantasy world that they might just feel is fiction. Like I said, your environment is determined by your mindset. If you want to live in a world where magic is real, magic is real in small ways. Magic is real in a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Magic is having a feeling that your friend is about to call you, and they call you. It’s real in ways that we think of as mundane.
There are bits of magic in all of us. Life is miraculous. It’s miraculous that we only know of ourselves in the universe, existing. We’re in this crazy environment. There’s creatures of all sorts, and we’re constantly discovering new creatures, and we’re constantly discovering new history about humans.
There is so much wonder and beauty in the world, and there’s also a lot of pain and suffering, but those things balance each other out. What kind of world would we live in if it was just constant ecstasy and beauty? You need to have the painful things to realize the beautiful things. In that way, tattooing is similar in that it’s extraordinarily painful to get tattooed, but you also feel more connected to yourself.
You feel connected to art. You are a piece of art. You are able to reflect how you feel on the inside, on the outside. You are able to have that influence on the people around you and how you walk through the world.
My ultimate goal is to get people to realize that people come in so many different flavors, and that that’s what makes us all so interesting, and that even though they come in many different flavors, we’re more similar than we are different, and that we’re all connected. I like to think of it as a human web — we can’t see it, but it’s this opalescent stream of consciousness that’s always flowing between us. It’s that thing that makes you think that your friends are about to call and then they call you. Or it’s the thing that makes us finish someone’s sentence. Or it’s the feeling of missing one another, that feeling of having such a strong connection with another person — some people feel more than others, but it’s there for everyone.
It’s also realizing that this web also connects to every living thing. That is only going to make us more empathetic for the world at large. Some people are so disconnected that they just have no empathy for that world. But the string is always there. The connection is always there.
It’s getting people to see that caring about one another and our environment is one of the only important things in existence. If we didn’t, what would the world be?
It’d just be like, if we all just decided that there’s no connection between one another or environment, that would be the most evil ever.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau has this idea that one of the things that make humans more than monsters is that we have this notion of pity for each other. It’s that sense of empathy, feeling bad when people get hurt. You feel that way because it’s like, “I am you.” We are all connected — that’s why some people cry when they see other people cry. It’s in our nature. To be human is to feel those things.
It doesn’t feel good to help someone just because you’re like, “This is what a good person does.”
It feels good to help someone because you’re like that person is you. You’re helping your environment. When you help someone else, you help everyone, you help yourself.
What are other Allston-Brighton spots you love? I do really love the Sil because of how divey it is. Ritual Arts is a cool place to go. I love being at Ringer or going to the Chestnut Hill Reservoir.
Wandering around and seeing glimpses into other people’s lives, everyone’s so interesting. Catching a wisp of it as you’re walking by — the tapestry is so rich here, everyone has their own little story. For inspiration, art wise, it feels so good. It’s an environment filled with energy. There’s so much energy to grab onto and feel the pulse of here. It’s very alive. I just want it to get stronger and stronger, because it’ll pull more people in to want to be a part of that energy.
