A remarkable discovery in Louisville, Kentucky has brought to light a previously lost 40-year-old mural by renowned artist and activist David Wojnarowicz, only to see it hidden from public view once again. The artwork, created in 1985 for an exhibition about missing children, was accidentally uncovered during renovation work at the Billy Goat mixed-use development on East Main Street in September 2022.

Architect Moseley Putney made the discovery when a carpenter called his attention to glimpses of color beneath drywall in a ground-floor space being converted into a gym. Putney immediately recognized the significance of what he was seeing, as he had attended the original exhibition nearly four decades earlier. "It all came back to me," Putney told reporters, recalling how he grabbed a hammer to create a hole in the drywall and used his cell phone's flashlight to illuminate the hidden artwork. "It was like looking into a freakin tomb."

The mural was part of "The Missing Children Show," organized by Potter Coe and held from December 6, 1985. The exhibition was inspired partly by the case of 12-year-old Ann Gotlib, who had disappeared from a Louisville mall in broad daylight two years earlier. Coe, described as an artist, gallerist, vision care executive, and Renaissance man, mounted the show to benefit the Kentucky Child Victims Trust Fund, with free admission but encouraged donations.

Six New York-based artists participated in the exhibition, all working in the East Village scene: Wojnarowicz, Rich Colicchio, Kiely Jenkins, Judy Glantzman, Rhonda Zwillinger, and Leonard Hilton McGurr, who was known by his graffiti name Futura 2000. Coe selected the 8,000-square-foot first floor of the empty Kentucky Lithography Company building as the venue because it reminded him of alternative urban spaces being repurposed for art in New York City.

Wojnarowicz's mural features imagery drawn from his politically charged visual vocabulary, including a burning house, a gagging cow, slit-open animal carcasses, and a receding planet Earth. These motifs, well-documented in Cynthia Carr's 2012 biography "Fire in the Belly," were recurring elements throughout the artist's work. The burning house, which critic Lucy Lippard called his "first artistic trademark," and the gagging cow appeared in various locations, including Pier 34 and even the Berlin Wall.

The artist, who died at age 37 from AIDS-related complications, was known for combining painting, photography, performance, and protest art to create moving reflections and urgent confrontations of injustice and inequality. He painted the Missing Children mural two years before his HIV diagnosis and before the death of his mentor Peter Hujar, which would later thrust him into activism against government inaction during the AIDS epidemic. His famous 1988 ACT UP demonstration appearance, wearing a denim jacket with the message "IF I DIE OF AIDS – FORGET BURIAL – JUST DROP MY BODY ON THE STEPS OF THE FDA," exemplified his fearless advocacy.

Wendy Olsoff, co-founder of PPOW gallery which manages Wojnarowicz's estate, believes the Missing Children theme resonated deeply with the artist's personal experience. "I think it must have been close to his heart, because trauma and abuse in childhood were something he knew intimately," Olsoff explained. Wojnarowicz had escaped from a violent home in New Jersey and was homeless as a teenager, experiences that informed many of his works that shattered traditional domestic ideals.

For the 1985 exhibition, Wojnarowicz created an installation around the mural, including props like a baby doll, a children's baseball jacket, and a skeleton hanging above a black chair. The Louisville Courier Journal described it as "a macabre representation of child-snatching," though more accurately, it reflected the artist's approach of distilling personal trauma into distinct iconography.

The mural's survival was entirely unexpected, as the works in the Missing Children exhibition were meant to be ephemeral, created for the show's five-day run. When the building was converted to residential apartments in 1986, the owners, apparently aware of the mural's significance, erected a stud wall that preserved the work's integrity. Anita Vitale, board chair of the David Wojnarowicz Foundation, called the survival "a miracle," noting that "it really wasn't meant to last."

After Putney's discovery, he contacted artist Judy Glantzman, who had also participated in the original exhibition. This led to connections with the Wojnarowicz Foundation and PPOW gallery. In May 2023, Vitale visited the site along with Glantzman and Isaac Alpert, PPOW's director of estates, to assess the situation and explore preservation options.

However, negotiations with Zyyo, the current property developer, proved challenging. The mural was painted on a load-bearing structural wall, making complete removal impossible. Various alternatives were discussed, including encasing the mural in plexiglass, installing railings, and providing limited public access for a few days each year. The Speed Museum assisted by finding a photographer to document the work and researching contractors.

Vitale sensed from the beginning that Zyyo viewed the artwork more as an inconvenience than a significant art historical discovery. "They said, 'We wish you could take them away.' I mean, I also wished I could take them away, but they're painted directly on the brick wall," Vitale recalled. The landmarked status of the building further complicated potential solutions.

Jamie Campisano, Zyyo's chief creative director, described the company as being "between a rock and a hard place." She emphasized that the property is privately owned, and the gym operator leasing the space, Zero-Sum, would need to provide public access. The exposed mural would also interfere with the planned cardio room design, which includes mirrors, treadmills, and TV screens. "We want to respect our tenants that are leasing the space, and what they would like the space to be, but we also want to respect the foundation's wishes of protecting the mural," Campisano explained.

Ultimately, Zyyo decided to cover the mural again with fresh drywall, maintaining a six-inch air gap to ensure the artwork remains untouched but unseen. The company claims it understands its obligation to protect the work but maintains it has no obligation to display it publicly.

Legal protections under the Visual Artists Rights Act (VARA) of 1990 prevent artworks from being altered, damaged, or destroyed, with some pre-1990 works also qualifying for protection. However, VARA doesn't necessarily require public display. A relevant case involved Samuel Kerson, who sued Vermont Law School after it installed acoustic panels to conceal his murals about slavery history. The court ruled in favor of the school, partly because covering artwork neither modifies nor destroys it.

Olsoff expressed concerns about whether the current covering adequately protects the mural from potential damage like leaks or mold. She views the decision not to display the work as a broader ethical question about accountability to history and values that often conflict with commercial interests. "The impetus for them is to have a functioning gym and a building that's economically profitable for them," she noted, acknowledging that the mural's imagery of "dead meat or a screaming cow" wouldn't be conducive to working out.

Both Olsoff and Vitale recognized the unexpected burden such a discovery placed on the property owner. However, they believe the company had a responsibility once aware of the work's existence. "I don't think these people are censoring him, but they're definitely silencing him," Olsoff said, drawing parallels to the censorship Wojnarowicz faced during his lifetime under the Reagan administration.

The rediscovery of Wojnarowicz's mural during another period of political polarization and threats to LGBTQ rights serves as a reminder of the continued relevance and discomfort with the truths his art revealed. As Olsoff concluded, "There is an energy in that room, there's a history that is palpable. And they can bury that under sheetrock, but it's still there, and it's not going away."