Meet Jim Bachor: Chicago’s Pothole Artist

Held from May 30 – June 1, eATLAS’ fourth annual ScavHunt is a fundraiser for the Respiratory Health Association. The team that brings in the most money will win a 11” x 14” signed, limited- edition print of Jim Bachor’s “Perpetual Hot Dog,” his mosaic of a classic Chicago-style “dragged through the garden” hot dog. Bachor rose to local fame in 2013, when he started filling in Chicago potholes with his mosaics. We spoke with Bachor about his work.

By Dave Lifton (@daveeatschicago)

A tour guide changed Jim Bachor’s life.

As Bachor tells us, he was visiting the ruins of Pompeii in the late-1990s when the guide pointed to a 2,000-year-old mosaic and said, “This looks essentially the way the artist intended because glass and marble don’t fade.” For Bachor, who’d become intrigued by ancient art on a previous trip to Europe, the idea of permanence struck him. Upon returning to Italy, he took a class on how to make mosaics using ancient techniques, and it became a hobby, working nights in his home studio after his day job as a graphic designer in the advertising industry.

Fast-forward to 2013: his street was littered with potholes. Although they would be eventually filled in, the asphalt would pop up again within three months. Bachor realized that the mosaics that he’d be making for the past 14 years would last longer than the shoddy fixes done by the city. Embodying the idea that it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, he installed a mosaic in one.

Bachor soon branched out into other neighborhoods and has refined his process over the years. He creates the pieces in his studio, keeping his eye out for potential locations all the while. He has a few criteria for where to place his mosaics, among them size and depth of the potholes, proximity to the side of the road, and potential for visibility.

When the time comes, he shows up with his art, supplies, and, of course, traffic cones and a safety vest. Bachor mixes the concrete on-site, then fills in the pothole with concrete and sets the mosaic on top of it. The process generally takes about an hour, and he returns to the site a few hours later or the next day to clean it up. Then he takes a photograph, which he sells as a limited-edition print on his website.

Originally, he worked at night to avoid being seen, but soon realized that it makes him look suspicious. Now, he prefers to work between rush hours, either mid-morning or mid-afternoon, when most people assume he’s a city employee. For all the local and national recognition he’s received for doing something that’s possibly illegal, Bachor has never received any pushback from the authorities. He’s had about eight interactions with police officers, all of whom have looked the other way. “Once they know what I’m doing,” Bachor says, “they’re real cool about it. But there’s always a first time.” Similarly, a city worker once looked askance at him, but allowed him to continue.

“The only statement from the city was secondhand,” he adds. “That was 11 years ago, when the Chicago Tribune did an article about my work. They contacted the city for a response, and they said that they appreciated the spirit of my campaign, but I should leave the work to the professionals.”

If the Chicago authorities are looking the other way, other municipalities are inviting him. He’s been given commissions by governments in Jyväskylä, Finland, and Carrara, Italy. And his mosaics can be found on the streets of Nashville, Detroit, Philadelphia, New York, and Washington, D.C.

The mosaics Bachor doesn’t use for potholes, he sells. The print that we’re awarding is based on the “Perpetual Hot Dog” mosaic that he created in 2019 with actual Chicago hot dogs. Bachor got 10 hot dogs from local institution Superdawg, then grilled them for another six hours to carbonize them. He crushed the remains into a powder and added that to his mortar mix.

“I don’t like to toot my own horn, but that particular advancement in mosaics I think I own. I don’t know anybody who’s done that before.” he says with a laugh. But it harkens back to the concept of permanence that inspired him to start making mosaics in the first place. “I like the idea that if that original piece of art is taken care of, in 100 or 1,000 years, the viewer will be in the presence of the actual subject matter.”

His greatest thrill, however, isn’t from the national newspapers and television shows that have spotlighted him. Instead, he tells us, it’s “the number of grade school and high school teachers that have based art lessons for their classes on my work. It’s just something that I never thought would ever happen. It was never a goal, and it just happened indirectly and it’s really satisfying to have these teachers post photos of all their students doing versions of my art. That’s very gratifying. It warms my heart.”