Artists bringing their reality into our own

"World Police State Champs" by Shepard Fairey. Photo courtesy of OBEY Clothing.
“World Police State Champs” by Shepard Fairey. Photo courtesy of OBEY Clothing.

Some recent works by Shepard Fairey and Os Gêmeos have caught my eye, for essentially the same reason. These sculptures go beyond the typical artwork or even installation artwork in that they do not simply create a situation or depict something, but rather act as objects from another reality, transported into our own. This isn’t something completely new to art, but it’s certainly atypical.

Two works by Fairey in the show The Insistent Image stand out to me. Both are bronze sculptures, and each is based off of a separate print by Fairey from 2007. The prints are interesting enough, but these sculptures bring the ideas in each print to life. While I’ve heard other people describe these sculptures as a bit corny, I think they do their job. Both pieces look like the sort of ridiculous thing that an eccentric fascist dictator would really put on their mantlepiece or dining room table. By taking these ideas from 2D to 3D, Fairey has transformed them from essentially political cartoons into something almost real. Despite their absurdity, these works are much more powerful and disconcerting as bronze sculptures than 2D illustrations.

"Operation Oil Freedom" by Shepard Fairey. Photo courtesy of OBEY Giant.
“Operation Oil Freedom” by Shepard Fairey. Photo courtesy of OBEY Giant.

Also of note is a participatory piece by Os Gêmeos that is part of their show A ópera da lua at Galpão Fortes Vilaça in São Paulo. The text in the piece, though not easily visible in the photo below, reads “Retrato família” (“family portrait”). Essentially, the artwork is an invitation to take a photograph beside an Os Gêmeos character and with a backdrop straight out of Os Gêmeos’ world, but also easily recognizable as a sort of vernacular photography setup. In many ways, the piece reminds me of Alyse Emdur’s Prison Landscapes series and the photography it is inspired by. While Os Gêmeos’ work indoors and outdoors is often in some way about bridging the gaps between their dreamworld and our reality, this piece takes that idea to an extreme. By taking a photo in this artwork, viewers become a part of Os Gêmeos’ world in a way that simply observing or taking your picture with most of their other artworks, however impressive the installation, sculpture or painting may be, does not allow.

A work by Os Gêmeos at their show "A ópera da lua". Photo by @gikacrew.
A work by Os Gêmeos at their show “A ópera da lua”. Photo by @gikacrew.

These works do not attempt to depict something. They attempt to realize something, and something unfamiliar at that. Even Dalí’s surreal paintings and sculptures are mere references to another reality, not that reality realized in our own. These works by Fairey and Os Gêmeos at least attempt to realize the unfamiliar, the surreal. When these works succeed, it’s as if each work has been teleported into our world from an alternate universe, rather than made in an artist’s studio, or perhaps as if being around them (at least in the case of Os Gêmeos) temporarily transports us into that alternative universe. These works are artists’ surreal visions made real, or as close to that as we are likely to get. I think that’s great.

Photos by Susan Sermoneta, @gikacrew and courtesy of OBEY Giant and OBEY Clothing

Memorials to the potential energy of spray paint in public bathrooms

Cement cast sculptures of outdated aerosol cans, July 2014.
Cement cast sculptures of outdated aerosol cans, July 2014.

At the age of 11 I fell in love with graffiti. It was the mid 1980’s in NYC and it was a great time to be a kid being shuttled back and forth from Manhattan to Brooklyn, Brooklyn to Queens, Queens to the Bronx, the Bronx to Staten Island, and Staten Island to Long Island. I had family in each borough, and I always loved those journeys for a lot more reasons now than I knew at the time. They were multi-sensory, stimulating inspirational portals of awareness. I became hyper aware of the art on the streets and I wanted to participate. At 12 years old I was far too scared to put the works directly onto the streets at the time, but I wanted to learn that style, and I began writing. Twenty five plus years later, the same energy still inspires my work, but an evolution has taken place. Its not just in my own work, the whole medium and context of graffiti as a subject has expanded. My new installation dictates to me how times have changed within my own public art practice as well as a metaphor for how graffiti is changing. Of course there are tons of amazing artists worldwide who have taken the traditional letter styles and characters to amazing new levels of style and execution. I will always be a fan and a lover of that form of graffiti, but I do see and have desires to communicate the evolution of graffiti as a subject itself.

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The sterile white glossy public bathroom walls call out to writers. It begins in your junior high school’s bathrooms and transcends right through to the bus or train you took to high school and into the rest of the world. To this day I still love finding the tags of my friends still holding up in public bathrooms. Mostly in bars and pubs but some of these tags have been in place for over 15 years. In this context, of course I could have pulled out a marker and tagged this space, but that is not in my interest the same way as it was years ago. My perception of could be done in the space has changed. With this piece, it is my intention to evoke the memories of the past, while suggesting what could have happened if the cans were real and full of paint. This installation sets the stage for both. The walls are clean and free of any markings, yet the very present dormant outdated cement cans remind the viewer what could have happened in this space, and that a graffiti artist wanted to remind them of that. The casts are not adhered to the floor, they can be picked up and taken. This puts the viewer in a position to make a few choices about the work and hopefully how they may obtain a piece of art. In this case it will not be through a gallery, art dealer or an auction, there is a whole other impulse to deal with.

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Find these cans if you can. My cement works always get left behind, they are easy to transport, anonymous and unsigned.

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Photos by Ryan Seslow

Street art in Tartu, Estonia

MTO for the Stencibility festival in April 2014. Photo courtesy of Sr.
MTO for the Stencibility festival in April 2014. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.

Today we have a guest post from Marika Agu and Sirla, two organizers of the Stencibility festival in Tartu, Estonia. The example of Tartu shows that even smaller cities can have a thriving street art scene. – RJ Rushmore

With a population of 100k, Tartu is the second largest town in Estonia. It’s mostly known for its university, which might not sound attractive in the context of globalization, when it’s cheaper than ever to travel to culturally vibrant capitals. Nevertheless, the town has something unique and unexpected – for a small place like Tartu, there’s an extremely high concentration of highly varied street art. It’s something really new for the town as the scene has evolved in the past 7-8 years.

Works by Multistab (Estonia) and Kashink (France) for the last year's Stencibility festival. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
Works by Multistab (Estonia) and Kashink (France) for the last year’s Stencibility festival. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.

The local street art festival is called Stencibility. It started out from the stencil scene 5 years ago, since then Stencibility has turned into a street art festival that has bigger significance each year. The festival emphasizes including the local community with educational programs, lectures, workshops, photo competitions, guided tours, street art map, exhibitions etc., and the people living in Tartu are generally positively minded towards street art. Even the city council acknowledges it, even though most of the time the festival is shamelessly promoting illegal street art. For example, one of the local street artist Edward von Lõngus was awarded in 2013 with an official cultural award for an illegal stencil work.

"Ouroboros" by Maari Soekov at Stencibility 2012. Photo by Jyri L Mets.
“Ouroboros” by Maari Soekov at Stencibility 2012. Photo by Jyri L Mets.

This intense activity has led Tartu to become the street art capital of Estonia and an alternative to nearby larger cities like Tallinn, Helsinki and Riga that have declared a zero-tolerance policy on illegal graffiti and street art. Tartu’s self-designated galleries, hidden treasures in abandoned buildings together with bits and pieces all over town, are must-see spots for every urban explorer. Tartu hosts a wide range of works from foreign and local artists like MTO, Kashink, Facter, Multistab, Edward von Lõngus, MinaJaLydia, Thobek, Brush Lee, Müra2000, Okeiko and many others.

An illegal gallery under the bridge called the Freedom Gallery. Photo by Ruudu Rahumaru.
An illegal gallery under the bridge called the Freedom Gallery. Photo by Ruudu Rahumaru.

As the street art and graffiti scenes in Tartu have grown, local officials have implemented methods of control that rely on their discretion rather than a one-size-fits-all policy. In May 2013, a controversial incident happened involving the city council and the street art activists who have been organizing Stencibility. Tartu officials decided to buff the most active self-designated gallery in the city, a spot under a bridge called the “Freedom Gallery.” After some alarmed citizens noticed something strange happening under the bridge, they called the mayor Urmas Kruuse to ask for an explanation (it might seem strange, but this can be taken as a positive aspect of a small town). The mayor interrupted the removal work and asked for a consultation with the organizers of Stencibility on how to deal with the spray-painted images. After some thought, those of us organizing the festival decided not to intervene in the city’s natural changing process or the government’s decisions by being the curators of illegal street art. We let the mayor and the other city officials decide for themselves what would stay and what would go. In the end, the “Freedom Gallery” was partially buffed, keeping the works that the city workers in charge of the removal deemed “beautiful” and removing the rest. So, the city is not a free-for-all, but at least officials seem open to the idea that even illegal street art and graffiti may have some benefits.

Although the phenomenon of street art can be found in all parts of the world, it’s important to note that Tartu, with its small size, is significant especially for its street art. You can take this as an invitation because I’d suggest to join the view as long as it’s alive and kickin’.

"Artuuro" by KAIRO and MinaJaLydia. Photo by MinaJaLydia.
“Artuuro” by KAIRO and MinaJaLydia. Photo by MinaJaLydia.
KAIRO's works on the streets. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
KAIRO’s works on the streets. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
A large scale pattern by TAF. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
A large scale pattern by TAF. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
Edward von Lõngus. Photo by Edward von Lõngus.
Edward von Lõngus. Photo by Edward von Lõngus.
MinaJaLydia's error smiley
MinaJaLydia’s error smiley. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
An anonymous work and MinaJaLydia's harajuku twins. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
An anonymous work and MinaJaLydia’s harajuku twins. Photo courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla.
Sometimes it's so good not to do anything that you can't resist and do it anyway. Photo by Ragne Schults
Translation: “Sometimes it’s so good not to do anything that you can’t resist and do it anyway.” Photo by Ragne Schults.
Facter visiting Estonia. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
Facter visiting Estonia. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
Fans admiring a work by Edward von Lõngus. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
Fans admiring a work by Edward von Lõngus. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
Water measurer by Hapnik. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
Water measurer by Hapnik. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.
A dialogue on the street between Thobek (Latvia) and Kashink (France), who have never met in real life. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik
A dialogue on the street between Thobek (Latvia) and Kashink (France), who have never met in real life. Photo by Suurjalutuskaik.

Photos by Jyri L Mets, Ruudu Rahumaru, Edward von Lõngus, Ragne Schults, and Suurjalutuskaik, and courtesy of Marika Agu and Sirla

Peter Drew in collaboration with Australian asylum seekers

Original drawing by Ali Rezai
Original drawing by Ali Rezai

Australian street artist Peter Drew recently installed a series of wheatpasted drawings on the streets of downtown Adelaide, Australia. Of course, that sounds like what plenty of street artists do, except that these wheatpastes aren’t Drew’s design. Each wheatpaste is a blown-up version of a drawing by a person seeking asylum in Australia. The project is an effort to take on the very very controversial immigration detention centers in Australia that those seeking asylum in Australia often spend a great deal of time in, and to humanize the asylum-seeking process in general. This isn’t the first time that these facilities have caught the attention of the art world, but Drew’s project attempts to give the issue a personal touch, which is somewhat less common.

Original drawing by Ali Rezai
Original drawing by Ali Rezai

Made up of 36 drawings by seven asylum seekers, the Bound For South Australia series takes some of the most disenfranchised people in the world and attempts to give them a very loud voice. Many of the drawings had to be smuggled out from the Inverbrackie Detention Centre near Adelaide, where many asylum seekers are currently being held (although the facility will be shut down later this year). One particularly key contributor was Ali Rezai, an Afghani teenager who has made his way from Afghanistan to Pakistan and now to Australia and currently holds a temporary Australian visa. This video tells some of his story:

But Ali is the exception. Most of the other works are uncredited. I asked Drew about that decision. Here is his response:

It’s an ethical juggle. The worst thing that could possibly happen from this project would be one of the participants being deported for their participation. For that reason I’ve only revealed the authorship of those participants who have already been issued a bridging visa. Even that took deliberation. There’s a deliberate lack of information from Australia’s Border Protection Force. They seem desperate to send a message to the world’s asylum seekers that Australia is unsympathetic to their plight. That’s why I wanted to protect the names of participants who might still be vulnerable as they could be targeted to be made example of.
Original drawing by Saad Tlaa
Original drawing by Saad Tlaa

In some ways, Bound For South Australia is similar to JR‘s Inside Out Project, which essentially allows anyone to become a mini-JR using JR’s facilities, and both projects suffer from a similar flaw: authorship. Both projects are ostensibly about giving a voice to those who do not have one, amplifying those disenfranchised people’s voices through a megaphone provided by a well-known artist. Except in both cases, the “artist” is a white male who at the end of the day takes credit for the project, and the often non-white participants are somewhat left anonymous or effectively anonymous, arguably used as props by the “lead artist.” In both cases, there’s arguably a reason for that anonymity. JR and Drew have provided a voice to people living in dangerous situations, who may not be in a position to name themselves safely. These situations are probably entirely necessary. Still, they are ironic, and muddy the waters as to how much these projects actually humanize their subjects/participants.

How well can Drew’s project humanize asylum seekers when journalists pick up on the project as a Peter Drew project and the names of the asylum seekers who drew the works that are on Adelaide’s walls, effectively relegated to the role of technicians, are kept secret? It is telling that even Drew seems to conceive of this as a Peter Drew artwork, not a series of 36 artworks facilitated or installed by Drew.

Original drawing by Ali Rezai
Original drawing by Ali Rezai

What if, in Drew’s case, he had not actually claimed responsibility for the wheatpastes? Would an anonymously distributed press release, or a press release distributed by a human rights organization without Drew’s name, or no press release or explanation at all, have gotten the same attention for the project? I’m not sure. On some level, Drew is taking advantage of the very people he is trying to help, but I get the sense that such exploitation may be necessary for the success of the project, a project with the admirable goal of awareness about the asylum seeking process in Australia.

Original drawing by Ali Rezai
Original drawing by Ali Rezai

Photos by Peter Drew

Tame DMA enters the Archibald

1987
Tame in 1987. Photo by Tame.

The Archibald Prize is generally considered to be the most prestigious art competition in Australia. With a first place prize of $75,000 AUD ($70,500 USD) it’s not the most valuable Australian Art prize, but it garners the most attention in the mainstream press and broader community. The competition is for figurative portraiture of a distinguished person ‘in arts, letters, science or politics’ and is judged by the board of trustees at the Art Gallery of NSW. It’s generally conservative and non-progressive- portraits must be painted from life and finalists are typically limited to a narrow set of Australian icons: celebrities, former politicians, sports stars and patrons of the fine arts.

This year Tame from DMA, entered a tag as a self-portrait.

Tame's entry
Tame’s entry. Photo by CDH.

Each city has its own graffiti heroes. DMA are a seminal graf crew from late 80s Melbourne. Tame is typically identified as the person most directly responsible for innovating the oldschool Melbourne handstyle, although when I put this to him, he cited Prime and Dskiz of Ultra Subway Art (USA, Future 4) as the major influences. That’s Tame- like a lot of older writers he’s non-assuming, reflective and a very gentle soul.

I encouraged Tame to enter and I love this painting for a number of reasons.

Of all portraits in the competition, Tame’s took the least time to create (under 3 seconds) but it also took the most time to create, as he perpetually refined it over 3 decades. Think about the muscle memory in the hand that paints a tag, over and over again, for 30 years.

The entry questions the nature of graffiti: can the tag be regarded as a self-portrait? For four centuries, graphologists have claimed to infer a person’s character by studying their handwriting. The tag might be about damage and destroying the system, but can it also be an expression of identity?

Early 90s
Tame in the early 90s. Photos by Tame.

Picasso once allegedly quipped that patrons didn’t purchase his paintings, they purchased his signature. Ignoring the stylism of Tame’s tag or the conceptual merit of presenting a tag as a self-portrait, the entry’s meaningful as a cultural artefact from Melbourne’s graffiti history. Whether or not the board of trustees have the cultural literacy to recognize this value is almost irrelevant.

Think about Tame next to his professional contemporaries in the Archibald. How many of them would paint for 3 decades without the prospect of ever selling a painting and with the risks writers face to complete their art? All these portraits are just inanimate objects; colours arranged on a functionless canvas. The painters and their reasons for painting are the real expression of humanity.

Finalists are announced on July 10th.

1989
Tame in 1989. Photos by Tame.

Photos by CDH and Tame

New job, changes to Vandalog (maybe)

Jane Golden and I outside the offices of The City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program
Jane Golden and I outside the offices of the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program

As you may have seen earlier this week on Instagram or Twitter, on Tuesday I started a new job at the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program, an amazing public art organization that has been transforming Philadelphia for three decades. I couldn’t be more excited about this new job.

Why should you care about my new employment status? Transitioning from being a student to working full time for an organization that does work that overlaps with what we cover at Vandalog may mean some changes for the blog. I’m not sure exactly what those changes will look like, or how significant they will be. I’m not planning to shut Vandalog down, focus exclusively on legal work, or write a weekly post about what the Mural Arts Program is up to.

I hope you will use common sense and be aware of this new potential conflict of interest as you read Vandalog. For example, the Mural Arts Program has worked extensively with Steve Powers, so I’m probably not going to post a rant here if I think his next mural is terrible. And I’ll try to be conscious of this conflict of interest too, pointing it out when necessary and appropriate. I figure we’re all intelligent and respectful enough of one another that this won’t be an issue, and may in fact lead to some positive changes for the site, like more guest posts to fill any gap left by me having less time to write.

Photo by Pedro Alonzo

Iconic Steve Powers’ mural / Kurt Vile album art buffed by vigilante DJ

espo

UPDATE 2: Steve Powers has posted his reaction to this whole situation. Definitely read the whole thing. Very reasonable and wise position overall, and while I appreciate Steve’s perspective which is obviously important to this issue, I disagree with him on one major point: He seems to undervalue the love that Fishtown residents and visitors have for his mural. He sees everything as ephemeral, and so it is, but we can still mourn the loss of an artwork, particularly when it is so well-loved and it is lost (at least until repaired) in such a disappointing manner. But this is something Steve and I have disagreed about before and I’m sure will disagree about in the future…

UPDATE: Leah Kauffman has confirmed that Lee Mayjahs did make a comment on PhillyMag.com as “Dumb Buffer,” and also conducted a brief interview with him.

In 2012, Steve Powers painted a mural for Kurt Vile in the Philadelphia neighborhood of Fishtown. A photo of the mural eventually became the album art for Kurt Vile’s Walking on a Pretty Daze. This week in Philadelphia, a vigilante buffman took it upon himself to paint over part of that mural, and only stopping once he was caught in the act by Instagram user @dasheikee. According to @dasheikee, the buffman did not have the property owner’s permission and was not employed by the city, but he decided to paint over the mural because “He claimed it attracted graffiti to the neighborhood!”

The claim about this mural attracting graffiti is a bit silly in my opinion. Fishtown is basically like Philadelphia’s Williamsburg or Bushwick, so that would be like saying that eliminating The Bushwick Collective would end graffiti in Bushwick. Graffiti was there before The Bushwick Collective and it will be there afterwards, because of the people who like to live or spend time in Bushwick. Besides, many people in Fishtown appreciate street art, graffiti and murals. I have to assume that the location of the mural was selected because Powers and Vile thought that the existing residents would like piece, and they do. If anything, if this wall weren’t going to be repaired, the mediocre buff job would probably have led to illegal graffiti being painted right there. As it was, nobody was going to paint over Steve’s work.

The buffman, DJ Lee Mayjahs
The buffman, aka DJ Lee Mayjahs

Today, it surfaced that the buffman is Philly DJ Lee Mayjahs. He’s posted a comment on PhillyMag.com as “Dumb Buffer” owning up to his mistake and making a pretty nice heartfelt apology. It’s worth reading the entire comment.

I’ll admit that when this mural first went up, I wasn’t a huge fan. I saw it primarily as an advertisement masquerading as a mural, but the fact is that the mural has become an iconic addition to Fishtown, so even I’m disappointed to see this happen. Luckily, plans are already in the works to repair (and update) the wall.

It’s cool to see how a community rallied, largely online, to protect this mural and mourn its partial destruction. There is a very obvious irony in this whole situation that a bunch of fans of street art and graffiti suggesting that the police be called over someone illegally painting a wall, but as Jane Golden of the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program commented, “I think the big point here is that it’s really sad to lose a work of art.”

Photos by dasheikee

CRASH in the LES

Crash-135

As The L.I.S.A. Project NYC continues to expand throughout Lower Manhattan, CRASH is the latest artist to join our ranks. His mural at Suffolk and Rivington streets was painted last Friday on the occasion of his upcoming solo show, Broken English, at Jonathan LeVine Gallery‘s 23rd Street location. Broken English opens on June 26th (6-8pm). Unfortunately, this piece is only temporary, but the project that will be replacing this mural in a couple of months will be (I believe) unique for New York City, and we’re hoping to work with CRASH on something permanent in the future.

We’ve been wanting with work with CRASH for a while, just waiting for the right opportunity. As an NYC street art and graffiti history nerd, I am a fan of CRASH for being one of the train writers who best and early on bridged any perceived gap between graffiti and fine art. And as someone who loves to wander aimlessly through cities, I appreciate the way CRASH is able to paint murals that exude color and energy and feel familiar but not contrived.

PS, I promise to get back to regular posts ASAP. I have a few almost ready to go, but we’ve been doing so many cool with with The L.I.S.A. Project NYC lately (this whole summer is going to be pretty crazy) that it’s somewhat overwhelmed the other stories.

More photos after the jump…

Continue reading “CRASH in the LES”

Ozmo and FoxxFace’s site-specific works in Little Italy

FoxxFace with Tristan Eaton in the background
FoxxFace with Tristan Eaton in the background

This month has seen lots of fresh artistic activity facilitated by The L.I.S.A. Project NYC on Mulberry Street in the heart of NYC’s historic Little Italy. I mentioned some of that the other day. Additionally, Italian muralist Ozmo and NYC’s FoxxFace have recently joined the ranks of Tristan Eaton, Beau Stanton and many others with site-specific public art on Mulberry Street. There’s still more to come (thanks L’Amour), but for now, Ozmo and FoxxFace…

FoxxFace
FoxxFace

For a few months, FoxxFace had been quietly researching at the Italian American Museum in Little Italy. That research has led to the creation of 17 small painted works on wood, each one inspired by a photograph of an Italian-American immigrant. The finished works were installed on street signs throughout Little Italy in early June. There’s no map of where each piece is, so visitors will just have come to Little Italy, walk the street, and discover the artworks for themselves.

FoxxFace
FoxxFace

When we heard that the Italian muralist Ozmo would be visiting New York this month, it was a bit last minute, but we scrambled to find a spot for him to paint. Actually, a mutual friend insisted on it, threatening that he would lose a lot of respect for our program if we did not work with Ozmo, and we wholeheartedly agreed. It was an opportunity we did not want to miss.

Ozmo_RRP-216
Ozmo

Ozmo’s piece, entitled Lisa, the Half Naked Princess, is a sort of portrait of The L.I.S.A. Project NYC and Little Italy. It encapsulates many of the complexities that make our work unique among mural programs. We aim to bring fresh energy to Little Italy through public art rooted in street art and graffiti, but still acknowledge the neighborhood’s historic identity. In the mural, a beauty from the Renaissance sits atop references to contemporary Little Italy and street art, and small pieces of text scattered throughout the piece reference contemporary Little Italy’s multifaceted identity as a home for a diverse group of New Yorkers, a popular tourist attraction, and a spiritual home for Italian-Americans across the country.

More photos of work by Ozmo and FoxxFace after the jump… Continue reading “Ozmo and FoxxFace’s site-specific works in Little Italy”