James Dalton taught art classes for inmates and detainees at the Freeborn County Detention Center for several years. Their works will be displayed in an exhibit titled ‘Both Sides of the Bars,’ which will be housed at Wells’ The Bean for the next three months. Here, Dalton is pictured with an arresting painting which was completed by a Sudanese detainee.

“Art is a way of expressing individuality. It’s something we share in common,” James Dalton, a Wells resident and art enthusiast, observes.

‘Both Sides of the Bars,’ an exhibit featuring art mediums by inmates, detainees and correctional staff at Albert Lea’s Freeborn County Detention Center, provides visual proof of Dalton’s statement.

The innovative exhibit will make its home at Wells’ The Bean in July, August and September of this year.

The coffee shop will also host a special reception in honor of the exhibit, replete with cheese, crackers and yummy drinks, on July 14, from 7 to 9 p.m.

‘Both Sides of the Bars’ is the product of a unique program conceived by Heather Coombs, the Freeborn County Detention Center’s program coordinator.

The program, currently on hiatus due to COVID restrictions, ran successfully for several years. It even won the Minnesota Jail Programs and Services Dave Grant Program of the Year Award in 2018.

Coombs enlisted Carolyn Smith, with the aid of translator Carolina Pena, to teach the program’s writing classes. However, she also needed an art teacher, and that is where Dalton came in.

It was by no means his first time working within the walls of a detention center.

“I’ve been in corrections all my life,” Dalton explains. He served as a Faribault County probation officer for several decades.

Originally, he sought a change after his retirement.

“I wanted to do something light and fluffy after I retired, so I got into painting,” Dalton says, chuckling.

His new hobby led him back to familiar territory when he joined the Freeborn County Detention Center’s art program.

It was familiar territory, but from an entirely new perspective.

“The thing that really changed me was it was unbelievable how close you get, emotionally, to (inmates and detainees) sharing something you like,” Dalton says.

Procedures which were routine throughout the course of his career suddenly felt jarring.

For example, Dalton recalls it felt strange to watch as his students were pat down before they left the art room.

The procedure was instated as a necessary security measure.

“In art class, they can use long pencils. In jail, they can only use short pencils,” Dalton explains. “One time a guy smuggled out a long pencil, and he was punished for it.” 

Dalton had observed and performed pat-down procedures countless times as a corrections officer. Now, though, it felt different.

“It would bother me,” he says. “They weren’t inmates or detainees - they were just art students.” 

Dalton’s students found their time in the art room similarly transformative.

He recalls, “One of the best compliments I got was, ‘This was the only two hours of the week I didn’t feel like I was in jail.’ They come in angry and sad, but then it is just about art.” 

The art pieces themselves are a tapestry of human experience and emotion.

Their creators are both inmates and detainees.

Dalton notes there is an important distinction between the two groups. While inmates are imprisoned for breaking a law in Freeborn County, detainees are being held by the federal government for deportation.

Detainees in the Freeborn County Detention Center hail from all over the world: Central America, South America, Africa and the Middle East.

While showing off some of his favorite pieces, Dalton points out one which was created by a Sudanese man.

The painted figures on horseback and the charging buffalo spring alive on the canvas.

Dalton observes that many of his students had well-developed drawing skills as former tattoo artists, but only a few were also skilled painters.

This artist, however, demonstrated a beautiful use of blended colors on canvas.

It could be difficult for Dalton’s students to reach such a level of mastery, given their fleeting time together.

“The population is always changing,” Dalton says.

The constant fluctuation of students posed a challenge. Dalton often had to return to the basics as new artists entered his classes.

“Some of the paintings are never completed,” Dalton observes. “You never know when ISIS is going to pick (detainees) up.” 

One unique piece was completed in fits and starts by several artists.

Dalton explains that the piece, an abstract swirl of brick, flowers, stars and birds, was started by an inmate who was released before his work of art was complete.

“Two other inmates worked on it, and got out,” Dalton says.

Eventually, the original artist returned to the Freeborn County Detention Center as an inmate and completed the piece himself.

Another one of Dalton’s favorite pieces - a black and white work titled “Arte Mexicana” - was created by a detainee who was eventually deported to Mexico.

The man learned to draw during a two-year stint in prison. As a detainee at the Freeborn County Detention Center, he drew roughly 10 to 12 hours a day.

“This gentleman was a very quiet and shy man, who did not realize the gift he has,” Dalton says.

Dalton’s stories continue to flow as he points out piece after piece.

While gesturing to a striking painting with a dark silhouette in the foreground, Dalton observes, “We talked about how to make bricks look like bricks.” 

He explains that the artist of a whimsical tree, chiseled in charcoal, was a Russian man. He was recently deported to his home country.

“Hopefully he’s not in Ukraine,” Dalton says.

“Unfinished lives, unfinished art,” he sighs, as he nestles the framed pieces between towels, where they will sit, protected, until they are hung up for the exhibit.