By Brian Dunlap

Saturday in Boyle Heights. Cesar Chavez Ave. The grand opening for South Central poet and Dryland founder Viva Padilla’s literary arts venue Re/Arte.

The venue is small, the size of a large bedroom. Bookshelves line two walls, a microphone standing in the corner between the windows and the blue painted wall lined with bookshelves. Sitting in the middle of the room is a black couch. Early attendees browsed the shelves, clustered in groups to converse or wandered to the back counter where local poet Nikolai Garcia played bartender, pouring glasses of wine for attendees.  

Re/Arte is a literary arts venue located on L.Á.’s Eastside, in one of L.Á.’s historically underserved communities. It’s aim is to host and support authors, poets, small presses, book pop-ups and more, from an L.Á. bent, projecting out into the world.

Shortly after arriving, Padilla introduced herself and the space, then handed out copies of Re/Arte’s Calendar of Events, kicking off it’s first month, July, with a full slate of events. It’s the home venue for Dryland’s open mic, FUTURE NOW, and the debuting open mic, Grito De Boyle Heights. It’ll host two book launches, an author talk and more.

As the night wore on, local political poet Matt Sedillo showed up. Poet and Cal State Dominguez Hills professor Jose Prado arrived, as did poet David A. Romero, among others. The number of attendees continued to grow. The night included a causal, first come, first serve open mic.

As a Chacana from South Central, Viva Padilla’s parents, who hale from Colima, Mexico, crossed the border twice, forced by necessity to obtain a better life. And this Saturday, in that tradition, Padilla was able to manifest a long-held dream: running a literary arts space to promote and support Black and brown artists and writers. The importance of the night and the support shown was written across her face.

As the night wore on, the evening remained warm and fireworks boomed from the nearby neighborhood. As the evening inched closer to 9 pm, poets graced the mic with greater frequency and earnestness. David A. Romero, Matt Sedillo, myself, plus Nikolai Garcia and Vivia Padilla, among others, graced the mic. I read my unpublished poem “This Is My Lost Angeles,” Romero read “My Name Is Romero” and Padilla, in this safe space, read two poems in Spanish. Romero’s poem is about how, though he’s light skinned with light eyes, and talks using slang associated with white Californians, he is still unequivocally Mexican.

When I left, the celebration of this new literary arts venue in Boyle Heights, Re/Arte, continued on.