Posts from the “Art” Category

Aalia Magda Elmahdy: A Rebel’s Diary

Posted on December 26, 2011

Aliaa, what a nice name, good physical features, I mean young, fresh and blossoming only with a strong and probably negative heart and ego, surely there are many ways of expressing your feelings and motives than by showing your precious body to the whole world, what now remains for you is to start moving around NAKED. I wonder what religion you are practising, bcos NO religion promotes this sort of act neither do our (African) traditions and morals. Please find another decent way of expressing yourself, though I dont know you but I feel I like you to the level of giving you a sensible advise. Thanks and I pray for good things in your life.

Hassan Aliyu Shehu left this comment today on my post to Aliaa Magda Elmahdy. I’ve been thinking about what it means. To be choose to be nude before the whole world. As a New Yorker, the body is a commodity. Maybe that’s what freedom means. At least, here and now. In the twenty-first century. We as women are free to use our bodies for any purpose we wish, and no longer is it political because that moment in America has passed. From Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party to Kim Kardashian’s sex tape. And we talk about progress like it’s a good thing. But maybe it’s more complex than that.

But Egypt is not America, and Aliaa’s act is one that is so powerful I feel overwhelmed trying to understand what it must mean. To be a woman in Egypt today, fighting for freedom, subject to virginity tests. That’s the least of what she’s up against. Mind blowing hostility, hatred, social control. Freedoms we take for granted are subject to death threats in another part of this world.

When will the body—both male and female—be seen as a work of Nature, rather than a product of Society? Can we look with love, with admiration, with respect, or will our hearts always fill with lust, with anger, with disgust? Will we celebrate or condemn, will we wrap our fears in religion and groupthink? Will we support or fight her wish for freedom on her terms?

To be naked before the whole world is a political act when there is nothing to be sold. But once that ground has broken, something is lost and something is found. I live in a world where women use their bodies for profit, as though objectification at the hands of oneself is an honorable act. Is this the future of Aliaa’s mission? Self determination. Self exploitation. Where is the line?

I suppose it depends on where you stand.

From here I see Aliaa, a vanguard of the old school using new media to speak to the world. And by old school, I mean the cult of the goddess, a time when the woman’s body was worshiped and revered. A time when the female energy was honored for its power to bring life into the world. It was not superior, nor was it inferior, to masculine energy. It was complementary. It was yin to the yang. Two Equals One. Never tear us apart.

But we have been split, torn asunder, and the result is it takes a scream to be heard. It takes a twenty-year-old woman, a twenty-year-old girl. It takes an honest look at the nude form for us to ask What’s Going On? This is the oldest war in the world, the struggle for female self determination. Because she who controls life controls the future, and that’s a frightening prospect to many.

There is no right or wrong answer because the subject of nudity, sexuality, and the female body is a political game. Ideas are currency, currency is power. Perhaps the answer is not to be found in the examination of her ideology, but in the way she triggers us to answer for our own.

A Rebel’s Diary

Categories: Africa, Art, Photography, Women

Afrika Bambaataa

Posted on December 7, 2011

The wonderful Joe Conzo arranged an interview for me with Afrika Bambaataa back in the Fall of 2006, when I was working on That 70s Show. I went in with just two questions: What was the Bronx like back in the day, and what was Hip Hop like before it even had a name. From this came an incomparable story as told to me for issue 2 of powerHouse Magazine, and later featured in Joe Conzo’s book, Born in the Bronx. Dig how Bam is a Buddha and only says the sword “I” twice. Nice. Hip Hop, such as it is meant to be, is the world where You are one with We.

Afrika Bambaataa on New York City in the 1970s:

The Bronx went through different changes. In the 60s, the Bronx had city planning, and organizations made sure you had city planning. You had the blacks and Latinos in the South Bronx, Irish and Italians in the North Bronx, in the Castle Hill area—and they were jumping all the way over to the West Bronx, Broadway, Kingsbridge. In between you had us tokens living in certain areas that would get the racism, trying to “move on up” as they say in The Jeffersons.

You had areas (like the Southeast and South Bronx) with housing development projects, which were like cities in their own right. In these places you had certain street gangs that ruled the areas, or so-called ruled the areas, fighting for what turf was theirs. You had youth gangs that were always mixed with blacks, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and so forth. You had people that were searching for their roots, when so-called black people were Negroes, coloreds, and niggers, and people who spoke Spanish were spics or niggers. Then you had your radicals, your pimps and players, and hookers, and you had people who were construction workers, doctors, lawyers, nurses, taxi cab drivers…

There was politics—those trying to change life in certain parts of the Bronx—the fighters, the warriors for the community. You had people that were against the police—the radicals and revolutionaries that were part of the Black Panther Party, part of the Young Lords Party, some were even part of the crazy radical group that was blowing things up, The Weathermen. You had certain radical street gangs, some were more political and others were just to sell drugs and others just to cause destruction. Then you had a street gang within the police department called the Purple Mothers that was out to destroy the street gangs. It was ex-veterans, out to assassinate them. They would take one group and stick you in an area with a group that hated you, or in a white area and drop you off, and you had to make your way home—almost like the way it was in the movie The Warriors.

That was a time when people were fighting for their civil rights and their human rights. We had great leaders that were waking us up. From Malcolm X, Minister Farrakhan, the most honorable Elijah Muhammad, Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, Angela Davis, Richie Perez, Pablo Guzman. They showed all of the things that the community was going through, the life and times of the struggle. So when the drug epidemic hit, messing many of our people up, people unified against it. They were together to move the drug dealers out of the community, All this to the movement called hip hop. Hip hop saved a lot of lives, and brought the unification of many different people together under the banner of hip hop culture. There was my group, which became the Zulu Nation, and we went out and started organizing the people. I used to speak to the different leaders, the gang leaders, and the warriors for the community, and asked them to join this thing I was making. Once you get the leaders in, you start getting the followers and the members behind you, and that’s how we started getting larger than the Bronx, stretching into Manhattan and the rest of the city, then to other states and the rest of the world.

You had areas that were nice and areas that were totally messed up; some would say F’ed up. It was so bad in the South Bronx, they said it was the worst place in the United States. And there was the culture of hip hop, this music. We always had the musical aspect in the Bronx. And we had the drugs, the dope, the coke—all that was plaguing the community. In going from Negro, to colored, to black, to African American, we had certain songs that used to grab the community and make everybody happy. That was the time you would see everybody do some salsa, some calypso, or do each others’ ways—people still trying to find their culture. That’s when books like Down these Mean Streets by Piri Thomas or ManChild in the Promised Land came out, with everybody still trying to find their roots. James Brown came out with “Say it Loud, I’m Black and Proud.”

You had the new birth of salsa that started to get strong on the scene, then came Salsoul with brother Joe Bataan, the Joe Cuba Sextet—they were doing rap back then with that. You could see the salsa and soul at the Apollo, all of that on one stage. Joe Bataan with Dionne Warwick, the James Brown Revue and the Motown sound—all that was happening. It was a sight to see. You had the salsa, the Salsoul, a lot of the calypso, reggae or ska music from the West Indies.

People get so caught up not knowing the true mentality of their roots. Like if you say you’re Puerto Rican, you’re still West Indian, you’re still in the Caribbean. That’s why there was interest in books like Down These Mean Streets, where you are trying to find your roots—was he black, was he Puerto Rican, was he white? Everybody was so caught up on what race or nationality you belong to, like, “If I speak Spanish, am I Hispanic?” People were trying to find themselves—and are still trying to find themselves today. But the music always played a good role in our community. With the blacks and Latinos, every three months you had a new dance. Whites were just finding that they could get that soul—and that they got that soul. You had the radio stations, the good ones, WWRL, WWLIB, WNJR, WABC.

In the black and Latino community, you’re born into music. In your mother’s belly, you’re already feeling the vibrations of what they’re feeling. The rhythm of life comes and hits you. So when you’re born and take that breath of air, calling the Creator’s name, you already feel the vibrations of music. By 1 or 2, we have already started shaking something, by 5 we are in full swing. Getting older, in learning to dance you mimic adults, and then we start to do our own thing, make our own steps and dances that then come into our community.

In the early 70s, we started to bring the house turntables. In the house, you would have a whole component set, and you would have to break it all up first. You would bring this big box—or this little box, trying to put the record on. You had the spindle that dropped six 45s at one time, or you could take the spindle off and just play it manually. You had the close and play. You had the big, retarded 8-tracks, sticking out your car. When they turned to cassettes, everybody was happy because they thought this was the new thing. These 8-tracks were always clogging up all your seats, all your stuff. Before that, you had the reel-to-reel, funny radios with two channels. You would think that you were in the 40s and 50s with that type of stuff. Then they started getting more progressive when they started making better radios. FM came in the 70s, because it was all about AM in the 60s. FM was a cleaner, clearer sound. AM was where you would hear more about what was going on in the community. WLIB was the first black-owned radio station. Gary Byrd on WILL used to do the GBE Experience. There was Cousin Brucie on WABC.

We always had rap in our community. You had Joe Cuba, Gil Scott-Heron, Last Poets. Shirley Ellis with “Clap Your Hands,” “The Name Game,” Pigmeat Markham who came up with “Here Comes the Judge.” You also had your rock records that had a rap to them, like “Joy to the World.” Sly and the Family Stone had a rap on their second album. There was rapping that was done on the radio. You can see how far the rapping, call-and-response thing goes back, even before our time. Back to Cab Calloway and all those cats, all the way to Isaac Hayes and Barry White. You had the poet-rappers, Wanda Robinson, Maya Angelou.

It was basically from seeing so many great teachers that came and taught us how to unify, knowing how to speak to our people, going into different communities, saying let’s make something happen. That and giving community parties, as well as what we added in the 80s, what we called the fifth element: knowledge.

You had that strong black core. That was a time when we would respect each other’s momma. Certain people had that status in the community–don’t mess around, you’ll get your butt whipped. It was interesting to see how these things started to change into the disrespect, or how the brainwashing techniques have started to seep in this day and time, where the youth will just cuss or even try to make a move on their elders, when they are trying to teach them something.

It’s 33 years for the Universal Zulu Nation, 32 years for what we’re calling hip hop culture, but it goes even further than that to years when we might of said the Go-Off, or the Beat-Bop when it didn’t have no name. Add the Zulu Nation’s years to the Black Spades’ five or six years of being organized, and it’s really been organized for quite awhile now.

Hip hop keeps it all together, but you know it’s the fifth element that gets people from different nationalities and places to speak about different subjects—mythologies, AIDS, diseases, politics, the universe, subterranean worlds. That’s the interesting part, changing different views, the ideologies, respecting all of the different religions. It’s something where we can, and whether it’s right or wrong, sit and talk to each other—and not kill each other.

You’re dealing with a machine that is controlling the minds of the masses of the people and keeping the people in poverty, teaching them to be greedy, stealing from each other’s land. That is the cause for so much of the chaos on our planet today. People of color get sick and tired and start to rise, and the people in power see this rising and try to hold on to power, doing all types of evilness in the name of their Creator to keep their power. Everybody talks about the war in Iraq. These people love Allah the Supreme Force, where others claim to love Jesus, but do everything except what’s in The Book. Everybody says that this is my holy book, but they don’t really follow it, so who are you following?

People got to go back and research who they are, their roots, and what happened. The biggest thing is the fear factor. They have made it now so you’re fearful to open your mouth, or to protest. When they first started the war, everybody thought if you were against the war, you would lose your job, they would lock you up. Everybody was nervous at first. But then you see the people get tired, the people hitting the streets again, all races and nationalities hitting it. People are still wondering how Bush stole the election.

What is really going on in your government, and what’s really behind your government, and who is controlling your mind, using mind control tactics? We’ve got to reevaluate what is really going on. In Africa, there is no way that anybody should go hungry, starving there, when the Creator blessed Africa with everything in it, every animal and being in it, the farmland, the trees…. Who is paying all that money to make sure that Africa stays starving or messed up when the whole world took their civilization from Africa? And really, for everyone on the planet, their mother really is African, if they go back and check the roots of it all.

The people in power are tricking the people; that they’ve got you under their rule, that you are my Hispanic, you are my black. If you try to go find it, where is black land, white land, yellow land—you can’t find it. It’s really about your status and your nationality and where you come from. Humans are the only ones that have this bugged out thing—that they are colors. Everybody has a place set for us, where we won’t be ourselves. They have wiped out history. When our Spanish brother says, ‘Look at that Mulatto, or the Moor,” you don’t know that you are mulatto, too. It’s going to take a big cleaning of our minds, our mentality, to go back to what it was like when people were trying to wake up, because they have done a great brainwash job on all of us, to make us hate ourselves or be fearful of ourselves. Or we have to move into their community to say that we finally made it, that we’re moving on up, like The Jeffersons.

Born in the Bronx

Categories: 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, Art, Photography

Aliaa Magda Elmahdy: Nude Revolutionary

Posted on November 21, 2011

I like being different. I love life, art, photography and expressing my thoughts through writing more than anything. That is why I studied media and hope to take it further to the TV world too so I can expose the truth behind the lies we endure everyday in this world. I don't believe that we must have children only through marriage. It's all about love.

I am a believer of every word I say and I am willing to live in danger under the many threats I receive in order to obtain the real freedom all Egyptian are fighting and dying for daily.

I am not shy of being a woman in a society where women are nothing but sex objects harassed on a daily basis by men who know nothing about sex or the importance of a woman. The photo is an expression of my being and I see the human body as the best artistic representation of that. I took the photo myself using a timer on my personal camera. The powerful colors black and red inspire me.

Put on trial the artists' models who posed nude for art schools until the early 70s, hide the art books and destroy the nude statues of antiquity, then undress and stand before a mirror and burn your bodies that you despise to forever rid yourselves of your sexual hangups before you direct your humiliation and chauvinism and dare to try to deny me my freedom of expression.

"From Non-Existent to Life for Aalia Magda Almahdy" by Cartoonist Kaveh Adel.

BRAVA

Read Her Exclusive Interview with CNN Here

Watch the Video of Aliaa Magda Elmahdy
Being Removed from Tahrir Square

Categories: Africa, Art, Photography, Women

searching .. searching

Posted on November 16, 2011

i’m always curious what brings people here ..
these are a few of my favorites ..

Malcolm X * Harriet Jacobs * Bronx Concourse Robbery in 1987 * Red Sexy Toes * Jim Jocoy * Maripol * Sade * Bunny Wailer * J Dilla * Leigh Bowery Trojan * Sid Vicious * Girls Fight Club * Nat Finkelstein * Huey Newton * Alpha Male * oOo Love to Love You Baby * Eazy E * REVS * Martha Cooper * Rock Steady Park * Rhapsody in Blue * Urohobo Language You Are the Love of My Life * Pee Porn * Danny Lyon * Blade Graffiti * Tuna Tartar * 70s Fashion Men Super Fly * Norma Desmond * Salome * Candy Darling * Anton Perich * Flatbush Brooklyn * Eric Johnson * Bobby Seale * Joe Conzo * New York State of Mind * Errol Flynn * Champagne Breasts * Anya Phillips * Pedro Paricio * WeeGee Crime Scene Photos * Paris is Burning * Tough Wigger Coked Out * Ellen Jong * Tiger Heart * Morticia y Gomez * Christmas Blunts * Martin Eden * Fuck SCAF * Two of Swords * Images of Love * I Dreamt I Was Jogging * Elephant Texture * Black Israelite * Brooklyn 1980 * Delayed Gratification * Women Are Beautiful * Cherish the Day * Martha Graham * T La Rock * Lady Jumps Out of Empire State Building Lands on Car * Fat Guy With Afro in Speedo * Madonna Polaroid * Slava Mogutin * Tupac Thug Life Tattoo * Call Me…Choclate Dinosaur * Grand Concourse 1971 * April Flores * Dance Is the Hidden Language of the Soul * The Cover Girls * Stiletto Heels and Loose Morals * Park Jams South Bronx * Egypt Revolution Graffiti * Roads to Nowhere *

Categories: Art, Graffiti, Photography

TAP: Staten Island Represent

Posted on October 24, 2011

Nothing is ever random. Not even the fact that my cousin’s husband, who I have only met twice, used to bomb on Staten Island back in the days. Though I missed the glory days, I’ve been catching flicks on Facebook and thought it was time to post up. Tom Petronzio aka TAP, representing SI, telling it like it was ~

When did you start writing? & what was the scene like in SI back in the days?

TAP: I first started writing in late 1980. I was a freshman in HS. I happened to like this girl Melissa.B. I wanted to get her attention so I started writing Tom loves Missy. everywhere. As I pursued this M/O. In HS I sat next to this Black Girl named Kecia. She would write Kecia Kee -N- Easy Gee. I then became T-A-P -N- Missy B. Eventually Missy had no interest so she was dropped.

I created this toy connecto which looked more like a logo than a tag. In the beginning it was TAP, KELP 3 and STAR 2. Those were my initial partners. We would Tag fire boxes and NYC busses with these Hurt Tags. Eventually people started giving me recognition of seeing my Tag and the fire was lit. I think I stayed with the connecto for about 2 years.

In HS dudes with style noticed I had an uncanny knack for getting up. They would tell me. “Yo TAP drop the connecto the shit is hurt”. OMEN 2 was a West Brighton cat who brought me up to par. EROS, who wrote CAM at the time was another dude who was always showing me tagging style. I got better but more importantly I was getting up.

I think in 1981, 98.7 KISS FM first went on the AIR. I remember Fantastic Voyage was the first song I heard on this brand new station. Suede Pumas were in and, in fact, I remember bringing a toothbrush in to clean mine. The Heartbeat trilogy was out. Sweet GEE, Tanya Gardner, Treacherous 3 . We would go up to the Old Forty Duece and watch Kung Fu flicks. Saw the Nesting up there and all the black dudes in the theatre were adding there own ad libs to the scenes, We brought that skill back to our suburban movie theatres (LOL).

I could say so much more about how the commercialization of Hip Hop was just taking place. I had the Nylon BVDs, The Adidas, The windbreakers, Fat Laces, Le Tigre shirts. The sewed in creases in my Lees. I was the only MF in my area to wear that gear prior to 83 and caught alot of shit for it.

What were your favorite spots ? What was your greatest hit of all time ?

TAP: The Train Tracks on SI were peaceful. As i got more into it, I used my climbing ability to get on bridges, We had a bus yard under wraps for awhile and we would kill it. We went off schedule one evening and it was game over. Stakeout.

My greatest hit off all time was for me the Train Bridge cause I went solo on the 4th of July. Giant snow owls migrate there in the summer as I found out at the top of my climb. There are far more talented artists in the city but I got a pic with the Twin Towers in the Background that can never be duplicated. Its my moment in time. Now that I think of it. I will probably be cremated with that pic in my pocket (LOL).

Another hit which was pretty cool to me was the road to Great Adventure. I did it with a non graf friend but put Richie LUF for him. He died several years later and I am on that road alot. Even though the Tag has been buffed for years. I think of him immediatly. I actually got a tear in my eye writing about that. He was a punk rocker and he had a pet rat that he dyed Tiger stripes (LOL).

My final is a dumb one there was an old NYPD car that was bought by a security company. It still was Blue and White but I rocked a tag on it and at first glance people thought I hit the 5 O’s car. Its all smoke and mirrors (LOL).

You describe yourself as a bomber — what inspired you to take that approach to graff ?

TAP: There are artists and bombers, some are blessed to be both. As for my peers (dudes I competed with) MARS, LASK, GANO had both talents. There are alot of older dudes that carried that role but I will tackle that in Next question. I got alot of props for the older cats. ART takes talent for one and if you are not talented alot of patience and practice. First off I only got the fire cause I liked seeing my name on things, as recognition comes your ego gets involved. I didnt like putting my time and energy into something and it get buffed. To me it was heartbreaking watching pieces get buffed.

I put a 1000 tags you cant clean them all in one night (LOL). I was destructive by nature, I guess I picked quantity over quality. As far as bombers go the heavy hitters are to some degree loners. I never got caught on my own, it was always someone else’s misstep that jammed me up.

Whose work do you most admire, both artists and bombers ?

TAP: For work I admire most, for artists I am gonna stay on Staten Island. There was and is enough talented artists to occupy my memory bank for a lifetime. I am gonna pay props to different dudes for different reasons. If I miss someone its cause im alittle burnt LOL. Well I admire CASPER out of West Brighton first and foremost. He had unbelievable work on the west Brighton Pool. I was 15 and just learning the beginnings. I got all my friends to go to the West and see his work. I CAN”T BELIEVE NO ONE HAS POSTED ANY CASPER PICS ON FB.

AIDONE, I admire his work from the Late 70s. He did some styles in the his day that were way ahead of his time. His pieces were cool but more than that he was a ferocious bomber, i look at old pics and I know how hot those spots were. He definetly was a ballsy writer in his day.

RINONE. Is The KING of SI GRAFF to me. He killed the North shore/ brought it to the South Shore which was like Waltons Mountain in the 70s. He had big 5 boro respect. He made a nasty one/ two punch with AID but then also ran with what I Regard as Hall of Famers from Stapleton. MENIC, SAINT, BASIC, BENO, SIK, FLEX. RINONE just killed it before Grafff was glamourous.

BRAZE, Was another Legend to me, Great artist and Bomber, did pieces in Ballsy spots as well. His style to me is one of a kind.

MIRAGE,MONIE,were great artists who took chances. Thats the mark of greatness to me.

JADE and KEKA were south shore Pioneers, I remember searching the train trestles for new work from these 2.

There are plenty of old school cats I missed especially from North Shore and I apologize.

My era, who I regarded as flat out competition was LASK and CEAL. LASK was that duel bomber/artist, We got together once and tore shit up. I will always see LASK fat cap tags when I think Bombers,

My man CEAL, He achieved BOMBING fame with 2 names. Definite BUS KING on SI in his day. LIKE ME, wasnt into the artist side of things, MAD BOMBER, WE got together on several occasions. To me one of the best friendships I made in graff.

I admire CASTER a phenomenol Artist, SYRE (RIP) who was a real good friend of mine, that CEAL introduced me to.

GANO IS EVERYONES ERA. GREAT ARTIST/ GREAT BOMBER. What I really respect about Him is he knows the ART of self promotion. He is a smart Dude. I cant walk away from North Shore Bombers without Giving ON2, ROM, and TIN there props, I know I forget many from my era but these guys stood out to me

Now my fellow South Shore brothers who I hit with. RAD3, NS and MARS, MARS is that BOMBER/ARTIST super talented and if you could call a MF a graffitti genius its him,

I started out with KELP3, who later became GE, KART and STAR2. I pay them respect because they were there when we were battling to be king of the Great Kills Train Station LOL.

The final admiration is for My Man KID who doesnt settle for 2nd Best. KID and PK are kings as we read.

There are so many bigtime bombers in the 5 Boros to name but OE3 P13, GMAN and BS 119 plus SES from BKLYN were the biggest bombing inspirations for me .

All adult responsibilities aside, do you ever get the old urge to go bombing ?

TAP: Yes, I think talking to this younger Dude from SI, EVEN and the Original Gangster AID ONE make me realize what good times it was. Maybe someday, right now I got 3 teenagers to raise. (LOL).

Graff gave me friendships that will last a lifetime, You make new friendships with dudes because your common thread is the passion of your past.. Graff makes you determined wether Artist or Bomber. You wanna be the best.. As a bomber on SI, I strived for all out.. I peaked in 85 but you know because of my graff intensity I know there is no quit in everyday life. Graff, short of my wife giving birth to my 3 kids was the best times of my life..

Categories: 1980s, Art, Graffiti

I Want to Go Home

Posted on September 19, 2011

Frida Kahlo. The Wounded Deer, 1946.

My grandfather, who gave me his name and his intellect and his arrogance, has lung cancer. He is refusing to see an oncologist, and rightfully so. He is 96, and it is time to go. He was never a smoker, never a drinker, and being a diabetic, he had always been rather fit, but I do not know if it was sober, sugar-free living that kept him going for nearly a century. I think my grandfather is the prime example of the will to live.

His mind is fully intact, albeit much slower, but he is fully aware of what is happening to his body as it has been corroding rapidly over the past five years. There may be something to be said for dementia, which is a burden to the family but perhaps protects the individual. If you do not know you are dying, if your brain disconnects you from our shared reality, you might find greater peace.

On second thought, I take this back. My grandmother, his wife of over fifty years, died of Alzheimer’s disease, and from the little I witnessed, her final years were an agony that has filled me with pain. She had been abandoned, exiled to a home exclusively for victims of this cruel disease. My sister, in her infinite compassion, wanted to visit my grandmother. I did not.

I was twelve, maybe thirteen, at the time and my heart had grown so cold that the only thing I wanted was to sunbathe in Boca, watch soap operas, and eat Entemann’s chocolate chip cookies. Somehow, I knew what I would witness and the apprehension tore at me. I nervously chewed my fingers and silently cursed my sister, thinking her foolish for caring.

We entered the home, me fresh with resentment, my sister hopeful and excited, my grandfather detached and officious. The smell of fresh ammonia remains in my nose today and I can still feel it numbing the front of my brain. As always, the air conditioning was much too high, and everyone was dressed accordingly. I stood there in my oversized Betty Boop shirt, short shorts, and Keds thinking more about how I looked in order to block out what was happening around me.

The wait was interminable and I could not relax. A patient, an elderly man wearing his pajamas and bathrobe sat in a chair and did not move once while I was there. I watched him with a kind of painful awe. But it became too much, so I looked away and began chipping away at the nail polish on my index finger. I could hear the sounds of nurses bossing and cajoling their patients into submission while the patients were as docile and helpless as newborn babies. But unlike babies, I didn’t hear any of them cry out. They seemed to have accepted their fates and retired to a place deep inside themselves that no one could reach. I began chipping away at the nail polish on my thumb.

Perhaps the wait was not so long as I thought. Time play tricks where pain is concerned. At some point we were allowed to go to my grandmother’s room. The door was wide open, which seemed strange. I peered in and saw a nurse helping my grandmother into a long white slip. A rush of embarrassment swept over me. Here was a woman whose appearance meant everything to her, a woman who took great pride in being put together, and now she was fully exposed. I stood at the door struck dumb, wanting to run but having nowhere to go.

Frida Kahlo, Self Portrait as a Tehuana, Diego in My Thoughts

The nurse was having a hell of a time getting my grandmother dressed. Submissive throughout her life, the disease had released her from my grandfather’s control and a she-cat was born. With all of the attendant mewling and hissing and clawing that comes from a feral animal, my grandmother resisted all instruction. When she realized there were visitors at her door, she recognized my grandfather but seemed confused by the sight of two adolescent girls. “Is that my sister?” she asked, looking at me and my throat closed while my heart soared. A very strong part of me was cheering for her.

“Rose, these are your granddaughters,” my grandfather corrected, as though the facts at this point still mattered. Let her think I am her sister, I wanted to shout. My grandmother didn’t quite follow, but that’s okay because she had other things on her mind. As we took a thirty-foot stroll through the small and enclosed garden of home, my grandmother gripped my grandfathers’ arm and repeatedly pleaded, “I want to go home.”

I want to go home.
I want to go home.
I want to go home.

Her voice echoes in my ear as I write this. My stomach clenches just as it did that day. My grandmother, who never had a mean word for anyone, who accepted her domination in a way I never understood, could no longer be controlled. Her knuckles were white as she cling to my grandfather for her life. “I want to go home.”

My grandfather had had enough. Not even ten minutes into the visit, and we were through. He handed her back to the nurse, saying he would call or something equally irrelevant and he told us to wait by the car while he sorted out something at the front desk.

Under the scorching Florida sun we stood on the asphalt, besides the Lincoln Town Car that my grandfather drove to the early bird specials. My sister and I exchanged no words, which was probably for the best because I desperately wanted to blame her for making me see this.

I never saw my grandmother again.

www.missrosen.us

Categories: Art, Bronx

Brian Kenny: So Help You God

Posted on August 20, 2010

Artwork © Brian Kenny

I recently met up with Brian Kenny, and while he was showing me some of his new work, he began talking about his time spent on grand jury duty, sketching the scenes like a subversive court reporter in order to keep himself awake. Having done my utmost to escape sitting in judgment of anyone, I am simultaneously fascinated and repelled by our court system, one which is more a function of bureaucracy rather than democracy. With questions spilling from my fingertips, Brian graciously agreed to speak on his experience here.

Please talk about your experience sitting in grand jury—how does the process work? What were you, as a grand juror, responsible for, and how did you feel about sitting in judgment of other people?

BK: To give you some background, there are two kinds of juries in the criminal justice system, a Petit/Trial jury (like you see on TV) and a Grand Jury. I was selected as a Grand Juror. A Grand Jury decides whether there is enough evidence for an actual trial and issues formal indictments (or charges) for alleged crimes against defendants by examining evidence presented by the prosecution. Before a Grand Jury actually passes an indictment, criminal charges against someone are only “theories”.

Only the US has Grand Juries anymore and it functions as part of the system of checks and balances, so that people don’t go to trial under official criminal charges based on only the Prosecutors bare word. In New York State, a Grand Jury is made up of a quorum of 23 Jurors and a “yay” vote of at least 12 jurors is required to pass a formal indictment against the defendant, so the vote by jurors does not have to be unanimous. If passed, then the case goes to trial, if not, the case is thrown out.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

Now, unlike a Petit Jury which only focuses on one trial, I examined and voted on hundreds of cases, one after another, for two weeks, fulltime. They move so quickly because only the prosecution presents evidence (although a defendant is allowed to speak for themselves, but almost never does and are not required to be present), and the evidence is minimal. Grand Juries only require enough evidence to support ‘reasonable cause” that the defendant committed a crime, not “reason beyond a doubt” like a trial jury.

So a typical case in the Grand Jury plays out as follows:

The District Attorney (prosecution) will say “I’d like you to consider charges of felony possession of a controlled substance in the 3^rd degree against (let’s say) Mr. Smith. We have three witness that will testify that Mr. Smith was found in possession of Heroin on January 21^st on Houston Street”

Then two undercover cops will come in one by one and tell us how they saw Mr. Smith exchange money for a small baggie on the corner and after approaching and searching the defendant, they recovered a small bag with 4 vials of what they believe to be Heroin and placed the Mr. Smith under arrest. Then the DA will call in the lab analyst or read the lab analyst’s letter confirming that the substance was tested and is in fact Heroin.

After that the DA will read out loud all the legal mumbo jumbo concerning criminal drug possession laws, which is by far the most boring part and finally the DA will ask us if we have any questions and leaves the room while we the jury deliberates. We all vote, “yay” or “nay” to indict, and call the DA back in to give our answer. If 12 or more vote “yay” the charges become official and the defendant goes to trial, most likely to be found guilty and sent to jail. Next case.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

That’s basically how it worked, over and over. It wasn’t hard to be in judgement of others, but it was frustrating that nearly half the jurors could disagree with the evidence and indictments are still passed. I also found it kind of annoying that although the District Attorney were presenting evidence to us jurors, real live people, but everything they said was really ‘for the record’, so they were actually talking at us in this impersonal, over-explained way to satisfy the stenographers documenting every word.

I love that for all intents and purposes, you were the courtroom artist, illustrating the scenes as they do not allow cameras in. Yet your perspective was very distinct from how this work is usually done as the images are less narrative, and more metaphorical. How did you decide you wanted to begin drawing in court? What were some of the ideas you began exploring through your sketches?

BK: I started drawing on day one without really making a deliberate decision to document everyone. I tend to draw compulsively; sitting still is hard for me and I tend to listen better if I can keep my hands busy. There were moments, like the rape or abuse cases that were very intense and heartbreaking, (almost like being inside an episode of ‘Law and Order’), but most of the jury duty was super boring; endless droning by the District Attorney reading definitions and procedures from the law books. Thus, drawing was a good way for me to stay awake and engaged. Soon after I began drawing I realized this was a perfect opportunity to use all the DA’s cops, lawyers, witnesses, defendant as live models for drawings because here I was sitting in the front row of a kind of small auditorium and one by one, all sorts of people kept sitting at the table in front of me every couple minutes. I didn’t really have any ideas I was exploring other than trying to draw them quickly before they got up and left the stand!

Artwork © Brian Kenny

Did the act of sketching alter your perception of the events as they unfolded in court ?

BK: Yes in way. Because I was looking at each person very closely in order to draw them accurately, I noticed a lot of distinct and subtle body language, personal hygiene factors, and fashion sensibilities that did affect my own opinions of them in regards to their integrity or self-esteem.

For example, although all of the DA’s and lawyers dressed and acted in very formal almost detached robotic manner, as I drew closer, I noticed how some were actually very insecure, wringing their hands or not making eye contact while others seemed to relish dishing out justice, their eyes sparkling, reciting law from memory and adding little pieces of flair to their suits like 3 point breast pocket hankies! Most of the undercover cops, (and there were TONS of them) dressed poorly; food stained sweats, drab K-mart styles, oversize jackets, unshaven, beady eyed, thick accents, over-weight. This kind of unkempt appearance in addition to not being very well spoken, definitely affected my opinion of their credibility considering many of them mirrored the criminals they arrested. Often, the only evidence we received to indict someone of a crime, especially in the drug cases, came from these messy figures whose integrity looked questionable.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

Did anyone in the jury box or court notice you were sketching ? If not, what did you observe them to be doing?

BK: Yes, the jurors and warden noticed I was drawing everyone who took the stand. The other jurors loved it and luckily so did the Jury Warden. I was afraid the warden would tell me to stop or confiscate my drawings because the Handbook actually states that even private notes made by jurors during duty are confidential and cannot be shared or leave the courtroom. But after a couple days, the warden was offering me nicer drawing paper and some jurors asked me to email them scans of drawings I made. About half of the people I was drawing noticed I was looking at them very closely, but no one spoke up about it or even seemed to care. A whole room full of people was also staring at them and they probably assumed I was just taking notes.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

What did you find most eye opening about being a part of the American legal system ?

BK: My Jury Duty experience was eye-opening and in many ways. Artistically, it was expansive because I was drawing outside of my comfort zone. In my own practice I usually draw myself or guys who look like me endlessly, so it was a challenging departure to draw all types of people live; old ladies, children, fat men and sexy young women.

I also learned a lot about the American Justice system and New York City criminal politics but left with a lot of mixed feelings about it. I noticed that virtually 90% of all criminal activity in New York City is either theft or drugs, essentially non-violent crimes. The drugs cases were the most frustrating part of being a juror. I view drug addictions as more of a health issue than a criminal issue and so I refused to vote to indict anyone on drug charges, as did a few other young jurors, but we were always outvoted by the majority and it was sad to know most of them will end up in jail where they do not belong.

Although I respect and believe in the system of checks and balances as part of a true democratic judicial process, I also felt like the Grand Jury system was designed to pass indictments. We only ever heard from the prosecution, which makes the presentation of criminal evidences one-sided. Defendants themselves do have a right to speak on their own behalf, but I doubt most of them realize this because out of the hundreds of case I saw, only a handful of defendants actually used that opportunity. Unfortunately the defendant’s lawyers are not allowed to speak to the Grand Jury. In addition, a Grand Jury only examines the most obvious evidence because it seeks only ‘reasonable cause’ for an indictment. So the whole picture of a possible crime is not presented.

Add to that the fact that the majority of witness and evidence to criminal allegations were testimonies by undercover cops. As I said earlier, these cop’s appearance already aroused my suspicions of their credibility. Besides, cops are required to make arrests and so it’s in their own career interest to make as many arrests as possible. Especially in the drug cases, I often noticed that their testimonies seemed suspicious.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

For example, one cop described how he was walking on the street and saw through the window of a car someone exchange money and drugs. When the suspect exited the car, he approached him and after searching him, found drugs. However, another cop who was involved in the arrest but did not see the transaction, told us after we questioned him separately that the car was a big black SUV with tinted windows. So how did the first cop actually see what was happening? Someone was lying. Of course, that still did not stop the jury from indicting the defendant.

Many testimonies like this were strange or somewhat incomplete. It made me wonder whether many of these drugs arrests actually traps set up by undercover police to increase arrests. Perhaps I’m just paranoid but a recent unrelated event only deepens my suspicions. Last week, Slava and I were coming home and as we crossed Chistopher and 7^th avenue (a corner that at night always have some shady characters loitering around) and Slava noticed a shiny penny near the corner. Slava picked it up and began to examine it because it’s one of those new 2010 pennies where they have replaced the Lincoln Memorial with a shield that says “E pluribus Unum”. He showed it to me and we continued walking down the street. Then out of nowhere a green van speeds backwards down the street and screeches to a halt in front of us. Three undercover cops jump out of the car and start yelling at us “Police, Don’t move! Keep you hands where we can see them!” They rush over to Slava saying “Show us what you’ve got in your hands!” Slava opens his hand and shows them the penny we just picked up, and the cops stop and say “Oh, sorry, we thought it was drugs, umm, sorry about that, have a good night” and got back into the car and drove off just as quickly.

The whole incident was so shocking and unexpected that we both wondered if the cops had actually placed drugs on the street nearby waiting for someone to pick it up. I could be wrong but the whole incident just felt like we had walked into a trap.

Overall, my jury duty experience was worthwhile artistically and I really learned a lot about crime and punishment in New York City. I do believe in the use of Juries made up of real citizens and was proud to do my part, but also feel that the system is totally vulnerable to manipulation, and that the drug laws especially need to be re-examined in favor of rehabilitation or community service over worthless punishment or revenue.

Artwork © Brian Kenny

briankenny.blogspot.com
www.brian-kenny.com

Categories: Art, Manhattan

Jianai Jenny Chen: Party People in the Place to Be

Posted on August 18, 2010

Eric Firestone Gallery, East Hampton, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Portia aka Madame Blade, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

T-kid 170, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Eric Haze, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Mare 139, Leo, and Eric Haze, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Leo, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Indie 184 + Cope 2, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Marty Cooper + Mark Seliger, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Daze + Co., Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Henry Chalfant + Portia Ogburn, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Sharp, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

More Party Photos at simplychen.com

Categories: Art, Exhibitions, Graffiti, Music, Painting, Photography

Jianai Jenny Chen: Down by Law ~Party Photos~

Posted on August 17, 2010

Eric Firestone Gallery, East Hampton, Photograph © Jianai Jenny Chen

More Party Photos at simplychen.com

Categories: Art, Exhibitions, Graffiti, Music, Painting, Photography

Koe Rodriguez: Return of the Foto King

Posted on August 17, 2010

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

I have known Koe Rodriguez for the longest, but only recently discovered his treasure trove of graff history. I’ll let Koe get into it…

How did you first get into graff? Did you write, or have you always been more of an aficionado?

I got into Graff during the early 80s because Hip-Hop was in full effect and everybody was goin’ for theirs. My older cousin and his friends where into it, the media was giving it some exposure and I was personally blown away by it. I was into drawing at the time, so I gravitated towards the element of Hip-Hop that resonated with me the most. I started off like everyone else, a young toy, getting’ up with El Marko markers and Wet Look spray paint.

By the mid-80s, I began trying my hand at painting. My name was originally “Coe,” but I later changed it to “Koe” after discovering there was a Coe in the Bronx. When it came to piecing, I enjoyed rockin’ the letter “K” much better than the letter “C” as well. As I was actively writing, I began documenting the art as well – this was in 1985 at the age of 15.

Being a true Gemini and having that insatiable appetite to absorb knowledge, I was also consuming as much information as I could about Hip-Hop and Graffiti in general. This went on for many years and by the time I was in my 20 and 30s, cats were calling me a Hip-Hop encyclopedia and later a scholar. When I was filmed for the movie “Just For Kicks,” they actually gave me that “Hip-Hop Scholar” credit, I never requested it. I’m a pretty humble cat and rarely ride my own jock.

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

When did you begin collecting materials on graff culture? Where has this path taken you?

I began collecting graff related items dating back to the early 80s. Newspaper clippings came first and then books like Subway Art and Steven Hager’s Hip-Hop came next. My family was fortunate enough to cop a VCR around 1984 and I began recording anything I could on Hip-Hop culture, especially Graffiti. ABC (Channel 7) ran a few good specials on Hip-Hop early on like 20/20’s “Rappin’ To The Beat,” “The Big Break Contest,” “New York Hot Tracks” and a made for TV movie called “Dreams Don’t Die” featuring Graff by the late, great Dondi White. In the late 80s, I would cut my high school classes, jump on a Path Train and head to the original Soho Zat to boost IGT Magazines and Vaughn Bode comics.

The 80s were a really special time for consuming all things Hip-Hop. I remember heading over to comic book hot spot Forbidden Planet to rack comics with my lil’ homie and Vulcan (who was working there) had the drop on us and told us to forget about boosting anything. It was actually pretty cool (and funny) being busted by a popular graff writer of the time. Vulcan was cool about the situation and after asking him what would be a good spot to photograph subway burners he put us on to a good spot uptown to bench and catch flicks. As for the path that collecting and being down with Hip-Hop in general has taken me, its allowed me to have a pretty nice career in Hip-Hop. Truthfully, I feel blessed to be doing what I’ve always loved doing, and getting paid for it. Life is a trip.

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

Which piece is the pride of your collection and why?

A: Wow – there’s just so many. lol I have vintage Krylon cans for colors that have been discontinued for quite some time. I have my collection of original graff magazines and books. I have thousands of graff related photos dating back to the 80s and more importantly, I have all the great memories. My collection of archives and paraphernalia isn’t exclusive to graff related items. I’ve collected pretty much anything that deals with Hip-Hop culture in general. My home office is a serious omage to the culture. My file cabinet is covered in Hip-Hop related stickers alone – anything from an original “OPP” sticker or Yo MTV trading cards to Hip-Hop apparel hang tags that I customized into magnets. I have some real conversation pieces.

Having observed graff for three decades, what would you say is the most impressive thing about how the culture has developed during this time? What has been the most surprising?

Graff culture never ceases to amaze me. Its essentially gone from a secret society of outlaw artists to an internationally recognized artform with a global contingency. It went from being eradicated below ground to blowing up something crazy above ground. I’m always impressed at how Graff’s evolution, be its style or its lifestyle has maintained immense resiliency, cleverness, inventiveness and steady progression. Graff writers are pop culture’s new rock stars. Guys like Lee and Cope 2 who were considered outlaws and their works considered urban blight, are global celebrity’s and bankable talent.

Graff culture is unstoppable and it’s gonna continue to grow and radiate for many years to come. With corporations still eager to get in between the sheets with graff artists to promote or sell their products and/or services, more and more writers are seeing a reason to stick to their guns and take their craft to much higher levels. Hip-Hop is big business and rappers shouldn’t be the only ones prospering from it anymore; not when art is one of the most provocative, respected and lucrative mediums on the planet.

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

You mention you have pen pal letters! What’s that all about?

A: Back in the late 80s, myself and some of my graff friends like: Ket, Cole, Nic 1, Cavs, and John The Greek were communicating with other writers around the globe and engaging in photo trading, which was essentially swapping your graff photos for other writer’s photos – kinda like trading baseball cards. My foray into photo trading started off around 1987 after reaching out to West Coast graff magazine “Ghetto Art” (which later became “Spray Can Art”) and starting a friendship with the rag’s publishers, Charlie DTK and Tim “Power.” Charlie, who is now considered a West Coast graff legend, would send me dope graff flicks by him and hot LA writers and I would send him hot graff flicks from New York. We would always include a letter with all of our flicks to exchange information, gossip or to simply shoot the shit.

Sometimes we would even send each other packages containing VHS and audio tapes of graff related stuff like “Style Wars” and Hip-Hop mix shows by Red Alert, Chuck Chillout and Mr. Magic. This is all pre-Internet and if you wanted to holler at anyone out of town or abroad, you sat down and wrote a letter or you hollered at them on the phone. Eventually, more cats started getting down with photo trading and the next thing you knew, I was writing cats from New York to Holland…it was crazy! I have a huge folder of all the original letters I ever received from the cats I wrote to dating back to the late 80s. Looking back, it’s bugged-out how committed we were to our craft.

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

What are your plans for the collection?

I recently took a bunch of my Hip-Hop collectibles to the Las Vegas apparel show “Magic.” I consult for the heritage Hip-Hop brand Sedgwick & Cedar and laced our booth with some of my vintage Hip-Hop pieces. I was instrumental in laying out the booth’s overall flavor and had some of my prize pieces like an old name buckle, vintage Krylon cans and markers and Cazal glasses in these hot trophy cases. The booth looked like a Hip-Hop museum and mad heads were drawn to it on the strength of its funky true school flavor. It worked well with baggin’ sales and it definitely let cats know that there were some real vets in the house. Some of my graff related collectibles are featured in a book that I began working on with my old shooting partner from Brooklyn, John The Greek.

This book features some of our greatest NY Graff flicks from the late 80s to 1993. The book has a lot of shots of dope subway graff during its twilight on the New York subway system, which is significant in itself. It also features the “Foto Kingz,” the crew of graff writers who also documented graffiti culture for crazy years. That crew consisted of Cavs, Ket, Cole, John The Greek, Nic 1, Charlie DTK and later me. I’m hoping we really get a chance to publish the book as its content is not just culturally and historically significant, but just a hot slice of true Hip-Hop culture.

Courtesy of Koe Rodriguez

Categories: 1980s, Art, Graffiti, Photography

Chris Pape aka FREEDOM: Down by Law

Posted on August 12, 2010

CHRIS PAPE AKA FREEDOM: DOWN BY LAW

Eric Firestone Gallery, East Hampton
August 14–September 26, 2010

Chris Pape (aka Freedom) is an American painter and graffiti artist. Pape started tagging subway tunnels and subway cars in 1974 as “Gen II” before adopting the tag “Freedom”. He was a witness and a participant to the 20-year run of the New York subway graffiti movement.

He began writing as Gen II in 1974 and finished his career on the trains in 1983 with the tag Freedom.

Pape is best known for his numerous paintings in the eponymous Freedom Tunnel, an Amtrak tunnel running underneath Manhattan’s Riverside Park. Prominent paintings in the Freedom Tunnel attributed to Pape include his “self-portrait” featuring a male torso with a spray-can head and “There’s No Way Like the American Way” (aka “The Coca-Cola Mural”), a parody of Coca-Cola advertising and tribute to the evicted homeless of the tunnel. Another theme of Freedom’s work is black and silver recreations of classical art, including a reinterpretation of the Venus de Milo and a full train car recreation of the iconic hands from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.

Pape will be exhibiting a self portrait from the Freedom Tunnel in “Down by Law” at the Eric Firestone Gallery, East Hampton, opening on August 14, 2010. He has graciously agreed to speak about his work here.

New York in the 1970s and 1980s was a city bursting with originality, innovation, and experimentation. Please talk about how you see the relationship between your early work as an artist and the environment in which it took hold.

The great cities of the 20th century are Paris in the 20s, Berlin in the 30s, and New York in the 70s; and I guarantee you, there will never be another city like New York in the 70s. The gay rights movement, the feminist movement, punk rock, hip hop, graffiti, the blackout, Son of Sam, tabloid journalism, street gangs (in 1977 it became fashionable for gang members to walk through the streets with golf clubs), the blackout, Saturday Night Fever — Saturday Night Live — it all came out of New York!

If there were one particular moment that defined my later work it would have to be in the 1960s. In 1965, at the age of five, my parents wouldn’t let me leave the block alone. I was allowed to go “subway fishing”, this meant laying atop a subway grating and swinging a string with gum affixed to it until it hovered over a lost coin or some other treasure and hoisting them up. These were long summer days that seemed to go on endlessly. I pulled up Indian head pennies, buffalo nickels, matchbooks, a baseball card, and other bits of junk that somehow stayed in the back of my brain until the early 80s.

In 1980 I was already a graffiti writer doing letters on the sides of trains, I quickly found out that I could paint realistic images with spraypaint and looked for a place to do it. There was a freight train tunnel in Riverside Park where trains still ran, the gratings formed 15-foot high canvasses of light against the walls, and in those beams of light I repainted the images of my youth including a baseball card. In 1986 the homeless moved in and became known as the “Mole People”, I stopped painting and documented their lives for three years. I finished my mural work in 1995. I tell the story because I can’t think of any other city in America where something like that could’ve happened. That was New York back in the day.

It has recently been suggested to me that the term “graffiti” is marginalizing, and loaded with negative connotations. How do you feel about the use of the word in general, as well as application to your work as an artist?

The graffiti word is offensive, but it was the only word to describe the early stages of the movement. In 1974 the word “graffiti artist” was coined in the New York Times—that seems like a happy marriage. I don’t lose any sleep over this stuff.

As a working artist over the past three decades, you have seen first hand how the art world—from galleries and dealers to museums and collectors—responds and reacts to contemporary American art. What are your thoughts on the differences (and similarities, if applicable) between the US, European, and Asian markets?

I think the art world as a whole views the works of artists as commodities. Let’s not forget the lessons of the 1980s when graffiti canvases were sold for huge amounts right up until the stock market crash. Things do seem a lot more liberal in Europe where graffiti artists from New York are celebrated and have been for years.

Who are your artistic inspirations, and how have they influenced your ideas, aesthetics, and actions through the course of your career?

Hopper is my favorite painter, I think he tapped into the American psyche more then any other painter of the last century, but I don’t think he inspires me. I’ve bitten generously from Warhol, Oldenburg and Rosenquist, you can see the Rosenquist influence in the “Buy American” painting. Warhol and Oldenburg are there on a more spiritual level.

For “Down by Law” you will be exhibiting your self portrait from the Freedom Tunnel. Please talk about the importance of this piece, and the context in which it was created.

The self portrait for the show was originally painted in the tunnel in 1984. At the time it wasn’t THE FREEDOM TUNNEL, it was just me doing my thing, which allowed me to fail a lot. This painting didn’t really fit in with the themes I had established, but it seemed to work and was published in a number of books. It’s a self portrait. The jacket was given to me by my parents in 1976, I left home in ’77 and lived in the jacket, quite literally. The spraycan head is an old graffiti device that seemed to describe my life at the time.

There has been a wide array of artists to emerge from the early graffiti movement. How have your earlier experiences influenced you ideas about art, and in what direction would you like to go?

When I left the tunnel in 1995 I was a little bit dazed. I was stuck as a painter, although I continued my visual journalism work. I did my new paintings large, and then small, in color, with a sable brush – it seemed as though nothing worked. Of course the answer was that it couldn’t work. The paintings in the tunnel are just that, there in a tunnel. In the same way that if you buy a subway graffiti artist’s work it’s best to buy an entire subway car or it loses context. I think that’s a battle that all graffiti writers that started on trains have had. I’m not saying I’ve fully overcome it but I’ve come close.

www.ericfirestonegallery.com

Categories: 1970s, 1980s, Art, Exhibitions, Graffiti, Manhattan, Painting