At 10:58 p.m. on Tuesday, March 24,  residential staff noted the first works of Woodlawn’s phallic artist. The method, per the leading theory, was a butane torch. His debut works are concentrated in the East Wing, but are also spread across other wings and floors, as well as three elevators. They consist of phallic depictions permanently burned into place, ranging, by my estimate, from three to nine feet in length. The artist did not, at any point, deviate from this theme. 

The hallway rugs bear the stronger pieces. I  found the work etched into the seventh-floor East carpet to be the artist’s most fully realized statement: confident in line and unambiguous in intent and form—not to mention the scale. The second-floor East carpet also merits attention. The elevator displays, however, are lackluster. That said, burning into metal tile is a different technical proposition than carpet, and one should not penalize ambition.

As for the artist’s identity—unknown. There is no consensus as to whether this was a West resident or East, a man or a woman, or even one person or several. They are, for now, Woodlawn’s Banksy. This does not look to be changing, and for that reason, we, Woodlawn’s residents, will be paying for it. 

Indeed, the investigation has encountered serious obstacles. Woodlawn Residential Commons is managed under contract by Capstone On-Campus Management (COCM), a Birmingham-based housing firm. Under the terms of this arrangement, contractual rights to the building’s security footage belong to Capstone, not to the University. There are cameras in the elevators—and only there, for that matter. The University cannot access them. The University has contacted Capstone. Nothing further has occurred on this front.

The University first responded publicly on the 27th. A community email described the exhibition as “inappropriate images” burned into “carpets in lounges, hallways, and bathrooms,” and noted that “the extent of the damage is currently being assessed, and remediation efforts are underway.” It encouraged residents to come forward, either via confession or through an anonymous tip link. The floor of at least one elevator has since been covered by a rug. This is, as of press time, the full scope of the remediation efforts undertaken.

Behind the scenes, not much more appears to be taking place. At 7:30 p.m. on Wednesday evening, the resident overlords convened, including the RAs. The vandalism was addressed at the end of the meeting, at which point the community director introduced the topic by noting there was an “elephant in the room.” She did not appear to register the remark. 

The billing situation was laid out. Should the artist not come forward, each resident faces a charge of $80 to $100—the per-head yield of a damage estimate the community director placed at $250,000. Multiple RAs claimed to be baffled by the price tag. Moreover, according to an RA present, one individual noted, verbatim, that she had been “crunching the numbers” and has a background in “accounting” (she holds a degree in Human Resources and has completed “coursework in accounting” per their LinkedIn). However, given the number of residents in Woodlawn, these numbers do not add up. But ultimately, residents are presented with three possible outcomes: an anonymous tip, a confession, or a collective charge. RAs characterized the third as most likely. The community director seemed to imply there was no other way.

But the RAs who spoke with The Phoenix were skeptical that sufficient effort had been made to find another way. Someone raised the question of camera access. It was not addressed at length. The community director also suggested the vandalism may be connected to fraternity hazing. She did not elaborate on the basis for this theory beyond noting she had observed fraternity-related vandalism at a prior institution. The community director position is brand new to Woodlawn this academic year—one RA, having worked closely with them, told The Phoenix they remained unclear on the actual responsibilities of the role. That said, responding to phallic vandalism does not appear in the published job description. 

And so, Woodlawn’s new artists remain at large.