I have not always thought of graffiti as ephemeral. But I do, and have done for a number of quantifiable years. Part of it started in 2006 when I met students and artists working with stencils and wheat pastes in Atlanta. Their pieces were lucky to last a day (we must have stenciled the same public mailbox a dozen times) but the fleeting nature of the art form was lost in the adrenaline rush of the act and the learning curve of the culture.
It was three years ago that I saw this wheat paste in Mexico City. I was inexplicably drawn to it, returned often, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, to sit under a jacaranda on the opposite side of the street and watch the vomit convolve into zebra striped candy canes. One day, I took a then new friend but later roommate on a walking tour of local graffiti; when we arrived, it was gone, not even one fibrous stripe, one shred of proof left clinging to the wall to prove its existence. I continued to give that tour and it perpetually changed during three years of monitoring. Some became hotspots, with new graffiti layered on the old; others disappeared completely, usually reborn as expensive condos or poorly curated restaurants serving overpriced, insipid fusion food. But few pieces are as embossed in my memory as this one. After its disappearance, I vaguely expected it of all graffiti, battling its intrinsic impermanence by photographing in situ what I came across when I came across it, knowing replacement or extirpation could be just around the corner.
Graffiti, unlike the art lining the humidity- and light-controlled halls (no flash please!) of the Louvre, El Prado, the MoMA, etc. is 100% vulnerable to its environment - sleet, rain, sun, snow, smog, humanity - precisely because it is not behind guarded, entrance-fee walls. This is what makes it accessible to all creators and onlookers. Anyone that wants to can make or appreciate graffiti, with or without a degree from an Institute of Art and Design.
When I meet people who are are anti-graffiti, I think about the art in their homes and what they feel when they see The Mona Lisa and what they consider their child's finger painted rendition of a cow that is ironically held up by a cheese-shaped magnet on the fridge. Do they identify, instead, with George Bush's painting of himself in the bathtub? When they were in high school, did they paint a still life replica of a vase next to fruit on a checkered table cloth? One thing is for sure: They like some art to some degree, even if they do not know what they like is art.
So what is art?
Unfortunately for graffiti, some people and politicians associate it purely with vandalism and or gangs. While this is not unfounded, viewing graffiti (and anything) as a black and white argument does not produce satisfactory answers because the resulting black and white answers excludes the needed shades of grey to discuss graffiti, art and public space.
So what is art?
art1
ärt/
noun
- 2.the various branches of creative activity, such as painting, music, literature, and dance."the visual arts"
Okay. Is all art good? Who decides what is art? Why? How? How does art change based on where you see it*? What is graffiti? Is graffiti art? Is all graffiti art? What is the difference between these two pieces?
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| Graffiti version of Self Portrait with felt Hat, 5 Pointz |
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| Self Portrait with felt Hat, Van Gogh Museum |
I spent saturday at 5 Pointz. I had never been there nor had I heard of it. I received an unexpected text inviting me to a graffiti rally, and I accepted. Simple as that.
I took photos and listened to the stories. I examined the pieces and the onlookers and their signs. I heard genuine conviction from the speakers even felt something during one of the speeches that I did not expect and was surprised by the urge to let out a small amount of high-sodium liquid from the corner of my eye because this is not really my fight. That being said, people are so bored or disgusted or cynical or distracted by relentless and unfettered spectacle and so many confuse liking something on facebook with real social change that it was inspiring to stand in a parking lot in Queens and watch these folks fight for something larger than themselves.
I was converted, baptized in spray paint, ready to jump on board. Handcuff myself to the place? Maybe not, but who knows. I did not get a chance to test my own conviction because about 48 hours later, the fight ended when the developer bought 20,000 dollars worth of white paint and covered the artwork in the night. He told media something about wanting to spare the artists the pain of watching their works be demolished †.
So. Art is subjective and emotionally charged. The best definition I can find comes from Tolstoy's 1904 essay, "What is Art?":
"Art is not, as the metaphysicians say, the manifestation of some mysterious idea of beauty or God; it is not, as the aesthetical physiologists say, a game in which man lets off his excess of stored-up energy; it is not the expression of man’s emotions by external signs; it is not the production of pleasing objects; and, above all, it is not pleasure; but it is a means of union among men, joining them together in the same feelings, and indispensable for the life and progress toward well-being of individuals and of humanity."
5 Pointz was art to many people across the globe; when that building goes down, New York will lose a part of its humanity to gentrification. I only hope it does not end there and that people continue to think about art / community / social justice after this leaves the newspapers and support people fighting for 5 Pointz when they channel that same energy and creativity into a new project ‡.
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* Watch John Berger's Ways of Seeing series.
† A coward's way to end the discussion but also almost cartoon villainesk, like something Mr. Burns or the Grinch would do before his heart grew three sizes in one day and he discovered the true meaning of Christmas.
‡ See Atlanta's Living Walls
‡ See Atlanta's Living Walls
