Rubin: The Grand Prix has its new poster, and I still have no artistic talent

Alison Slackta had talent and imagination. Growing up in Byron, what she didn't have was any idea what to do with either.

That's not a poke at Byron, population 581, the gateway to Argentine Township. But with Slackta's artwork chosen a few days ago as the poster for the 2024 Chevrolet Detroit Grand Prix, it's a roaring endorsement for exposing kids to the arts, the trades and lots of other things that might not show up on a college entrance exam.

Slackta, a senior at the College for Creative Studies, was steered in high school toward a portfolio development class at the Flint Institute of Arts. Twenty-five miles northwest of home, the class exposed her to a whole new world.

"I learned you can actually go to school for art," she said in a Midtown auditorium where the five finalists' artworks stood on easels in front of a low stage. A string of thoughts had followed that revelation, ending with, "I have no other aptitudes. I'm going."

She'll leave in a few months with an unexpected $2,000, top prize in the 12th annual competition for CCS students that offers not only a sparkling highlight for her resume, but the satisfaction of seeing her creation on fans' T-shirts and the knowledge that it will wind up framed in countless homes.

Slackta took the checkered flag in a photo finish that had the judges split, 4-4, between her interpretation of street art and a fantasy from Jordan Crouch that involved a child leaning over the Renaissance Center and pushing an IndyCar toward the finish line like a toy. Online voting the previous day provided the tiebreaker.

It's always fascinating, said Detroit Grand Prix president Michael Montri, to see "how these students hold on to their artistic vision" while creating something that will, with a few professional tweaks, be both saleable and eternal.

The finalists, as it happened, were all women, and while at least one mentioned attending the Grand Prix as a kid, "the assignment has nothing to do with being gearheads," Montri said. Rather, it's about finding the pulse of the race through downtown Detroit, grasping pieces of the city and its culture, and bolting it all together.

Montri was one of the judges. Others included two CCS grads who've gone on to the auto industry, cartoonist and Detroit News auto critic Henry Payne, and me.

You could lock me in an art supply store for six months with no connection to the outside world but Hot-N-Readys, and I'd have nothing to show for it at the end but a stack of pizza boxes. Likewise, I can't sing, strum or, come to think of it, weld.

But I'm a big fan of opportunity, and not wild about art, music and industrial arts being quick casualties every time a school district has budget problems. So I was glad to represent the untalented, and to hear about Slackta's first step toward turning a passion into a profession.

Rules of the road

At a school where there's sometimes friction between industrial design students bound for the automobile industry and students with less immediately marketable goals, the contest served as something of an intersection.

As a general rule, said professor Taylor Callery, "nobody is saying, 'Hey, illustrators, want to draw some race cars?' " But a dozen of the 16 students in his editorial illustration class submitted potential posters.

The artworks were all 16 by 24 inches, though Slackta's will be blown up to 24-by-36 for sale. They had to include the dates of the race, May 31-June 2; the name; the official logo; at least one of the types of cars that will be competing; and something that suggested Detroit.

"Illustrators," Callery said, "have that ability to really create a narrative that tells a story."

Crouch, the runner-up, keyed on the almost universal childhood moments spent playing with cars. Slackta turned to street art, sometimes a more polite term for graffiti, which meant she was using oil paint to portray spray paint.

An artist in a hoodie on the left side of her poster is finishing a painting of the Renaissance Center. The background for all of it is a pale brick wall. The lettering is blue and orange in the cartoonish printing that taggers often favor. On the right, an IndyCar and a sports car zip past another of the pretend artist's tributes to the city, the left hand and sphere of the Spirit of Detroit.

The nose of the IndyCar didn't quite fit in the rectangle, or maybe the artist didn't want it to. In the finished product, that will change.

Bumps in the road

Judges were sent to work with a reminder and a request.

Remember, we were told, that the object is to pick the best poster, not necessarily the best piece of art. And: If minor changes are needed, don't be shy.

One of the two posters that earned honorable mention, by Moaray Hunter, had a race car reflected in the visor of a helmet. It was a vivid image, but the background was a flickering red and yellow. As noted by Sam Zhao, the design manager for GM Motorsports, it's probably best in an auto race promotion to avoid anything that looks like fire.

Likewise, the third-place design by Dena Hu had images of a blue and green IndyCar tumbling through the air before it came to ground roaring past the RenCen. Absolutely striking, someone said, but let's not send a race car airborne.

Judges appreciated the detail of the other honorable mention designee, by Abbey Sutter. A little girl riding on her dad's back was wearing ear protection and had a missing front tooth. But in general, it was too reminiscent of the 2023 winner, and variety is the spice of sales increases.

The race and the Detroit Sports Media Association provided the prize money, which included $1,200 for second place, $750 for third and $500 apiece for the other two.

Disappointment was inevitable, but in the realm of commercial art, rejection is standard. "A little glimpse of your world," as Montri put it, with assignments, deadlines and periodic rejection.

Slackta said she expects to be scrambling as she tries to build a post-graduation portfolio in book illustration. She does not expect to be arrested for vandalism.

One of the judges — OK, it was me — asked whether she had ever tagged a building.

"No," she said, and with things going so well, there's no sense starting now.

Reach Neal Rubin at NARubin@freepress.com.

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This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: CCS Detroit Grand Prix poster contest crowns a winner; merch to come