June 2010: Superpastel in Buenos Aires

Today's a big day around here: in addition to three World Cup games, the class of 2010 graduates tonight. Since I've spent two years at this school, I'm really going to miss some of these guys. Congratulations, everyone! Today, we travel to the southern hemisphere to hear from Superpastel and his mission to document Buenos Aires. He writes:

"I started painting 10 years ago in the city of Buenos Aires. I like painting in areas like Saavedra, Palermo and Villa Crespo."
"My style was generated by several parallel transformations. I'm finishing up my architecture degree at the University of Buenos Aires, where I was working over time to achieve a connection between graffiti, urban planning and architecture."
"I like working on group walls as well as individual paintings."
"Any spot is good if there's friends and sun. I love seeing other parts of Argentina as I paint."
"I'm working on documenting the street, not just in drawings or photos. I love Argentina's architecture from the '20s-'50s."

Gracias, Superpastel! For more photo documentation, take a look at his Flickr.

March 2010: Tec in Buenos Aires

During my teen years, I visited a friend regularly at Hartford's children's hospital. She was sick for many months and spent many a day staring at a bland grey wall. What I never understood was why a hospital for children could be so dull and lifeless. Fortunately, Tec agrees. In addition to his street pieces around Buenos Aires, he's also decorated a local children's hospital. Today, he explains how he got his start and what's in store for the future. He writes:

"I started painting on the street in back in '88 by promoting my rock band, Ocote. We sounded like AC/DC, but with a touch of humor. We just made tags using some colors. At the time, we only had blue, black, white, and red. We had an English green, too, but I didn't like it. In '92, I took a trip to Barcelona and bam! I took a train from the airport and had the greatest visual experience of my life."

"The walls on both sides of the road were full of graffiti, colors, abstract shapes, and spray. I realized that they were names and signatures of people. When I returned to Buenos Aires, I went to Macario, a friend in the neighborhood, and showed him the photos. Since then, we've never stopped."

"When I'm painting, I love to work with friends. I love working where it's ugly and the context is mixed with painting."

"I developed my style thanks to the confidence and support of my mother who told me my drawings were nice and hanged them on the walls. Through the power of design, I made my own iconic style; I love figurative images."

"Right now, I'm in preproduction of a road movie. This is a documentary about painting Route 9 that runs from Rosary
Córdoba, my hometown."

Gracias, Tec! Follow his film's progress through still shots on his Flickr.

March 2010: Triángulo Dorado in Buenos Aires

Whenever I'm tossing around a new idea, I always share it with friends. My crew always contributes a new angle and helps push each concept further. Triángulo Dorado's got the same idea; this Argentine crew of three works and plays together to create new pieces. They write:

"We started doing street art in 2004 on the walls that were abandoned on the sides of railroad tracks. We did not need permission and it works really great for practicing and basic training."
"We were born and live in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Most of our work is in the city or the surrounding area. In 2009, we were presented with the opportunity to travel to Villazon, Bolivia, where we painted a large mural commemorating the centenary of the city."
"The Triángulo Dorado group formed in 2007 and consists of Santiago Panichelli (Nemer), Francisco Ferreyra (Lema) and Pedro Panichelli (Pedrone). The three have worked together ever since."
"The group draws inspiration from urban art, graffiti and mural painting as well as classic expressionist movements, symbolism and the various art forms ranging from antiquity to the latest trends. The final product is the result of different forms and styles that each member brings to each mural. We are known for making work together and achieving an unique image."
"We love painting in any big place where many people can see it. A building would be great. Now we are working on some murals that we've planned for some time as well as paintings and drawings for two neighbor exhibitions."

Thanks, guys! Look at more of their photos on their Flickr.

February 2010: Pum Pum in Buenos Aires

I know it's St. Patrick's Day, but we're taking a trip away from the Emerald Isle down south to Argentina. Down in the Southern Hemisphere, Pum Pum's whimsical characters grace the streets of Buenos Aires. Today, she stops by to share a little bit of her story. She writes:

"I started painting on the street about six or seven years ago...just experimenting. It was more like a game, not a decision."
"I love popular sites like Saavedra, a wall of Palermo, but any place is good. I enjoy working alone, but I love sharing a wall with friends!"
"I love drawing a lot, visually feeding on things that I like. I like drawing in my house, listening to music."
"Right now, I'm painting many canvases at my house. I have many things planned for this Year of the Tiger!"
Gracias, Pum Pum! For more fantastic photos, visit her Flickr.

November 2009: Buenos Aires, Argentina

Short sweet post today. I've been meaning to share these photos for a while now. Back in 2008, I met my good friend, Hüsne, in Turkey. She rolled down to Argentina and reunited for our friend, Sena, for a while. During her stay, she snapped some photos around Buenos Aires. She writes:

"Purple, darling here is some street art for you to enjoy."
"This is Buenos Aires; of course there will be an accordion on the walls and Carlos Gardel.""I found them on the streets of the old neighborhood on San Telmo.""Hope you like them. I'll be on a hunt for more of them for you. Kisses, love you, Rhea."

Teşekkür, darling!

September 2009: Rojo Roma in Buenos Aires

It doesn't matter if it's a wall, a train station, or an eroding concrete block. Give Rojo Roma a surface and he'll paint on it. The Buenos Aires based artist shares his story and photos from the southern hemisphere with us. He writes:

"I started to paint graffiti in 1996, just to play and show the people something new. I was thinking about the streets and the nature out there. I wanted to give a gift to my town."
"I paint alone and for me. I painted with lot of artists around the world in other towns/cities/cultures, too. It's so cool to meet other artists while doing art. I enjoy helping other people. It's very rewarding for me do something for somebody without worrying about who that person is, what they think about life, or whatever. Don´t think about what you should do; just do and do and do."
"I came up with my style by looking the city, listening to music, and reading some books. I think I incorporate the views of my family, friends and experiences of trips. Painting with spray cans is very difficult to do. It takes a long time to make some good stuff. But when you get the line, that line, you've got the sky.
The fileteado porteño was a very good practice for me. That ornamental movement is very representative of my city and culture, too. People like this art a lot."
"The streets are my favorite places to paint, but I enjoy the challenge. I think any area likely to support writing is good."
"Today, I work creating ambience. I´m a graphic designer, too, so I live off any creative activity. I'm painting a lot, making designs for importants brands, generating new aesthetics, and working on artistic projects ranging from books and animation to bikeparks, skateparks, and local commercials."

Gracias, Roma! For more photos, check out his Flickr. Roma also supports the Global Transmission Project, so take a look.

March 2009: Buenos Aires with Cabaio

Right now, my friends Sena and Padric are both in Buenos Aires and loving it. While the seasons inch closer and closer to winter every day, I can’t say I haven’t considered it. Argentine artist Cabaio’s work is further reason to check the city out. Cabaio covers San Telmo, the oldest neighborhood in Buenos Aires, with his own brand of stencil. He writes:  

“When the government of de la Rua fell in 2001, it was a time to say things; one way was via stencils. I worked in a restaurant and went to work late night, so I had time to paint the city.” 
“I lived in San Telmo, a district full of cultural assets. Together with my friends from Vomiting Attack, a collective of artists, we just started painting on the streets.” 

“We worked together for several years and did some shows, workshops, and performances. Today, I continue with my own project: trying to intervene space space with some sense while always using stencil.”  

“Sometimes I work in other neighborhoods such as Palermo, Colegiales, Villa Crespo. Sometimes, I am alone and sometimes I paint with colleagues who are interested in the action.” 
“At this moment, I am collaborating with Domingo Codes, an artist from Brazil. Two months ago, he traveled to Salvador, Bahia, on exchange with other artists and painted in that city.” 

Don't have much in the way of contact info for Cabaio, but if you Google his name and 'street art,' some photos pop up. If you want to know more, shoot me a note and I'll ask if I can pass his info along. Gracias, Cabaio!

April 2007- Buenos Aires

I’ve been excited about this post all week. Today’s update comes to us from Annie, who’s currently teaching English in Seoul, South Korea. Her story behind the images is so personal and poignant that it needs some extra space. Enjoy the weekend and get ready for a news update on Monday!

"In the fall of 2006, one of my best friends died two weeks before I was to leave for Buenos Aires, Argentina. Despite surgery to fix a preexisting heart condition, Cassandra had a heart attack and died on her way to retrieving her misplaced purse."

"My heart was entirely broken. Cassandra, my friend, was the most inspiring and selfless person that ever graced me with her presence. She encouraged me to be myself and taught me how to live without fear. I thought that it would be easy to run away, but I couldn't forget, or even temporarily escape, the memory of our friendship. My trip to Chile was an attempt to find what I had lost."

"When I arrived in Buenos Aires, I was exhausted by the naiveté of my classmates and frustrated by the fact that I had no one to share my loss with. So I took off for Chile during Semana Santa with no significant plans and only one night's reservation at a hostel."

"On my first morning in Santiago, I wandered the neighborhood and stumbled upon these paintings on my first morning in Santiago. I was amazed at how the images so clearly articulated my feelings at the time."

"The first painting, the sinewy blue two-headed person, captures the intense agony I felt. It is amazing how perfect it is: the clouded mind, the explosion of essential matter from mouth and heart, even the words "...pena..." and "solo yo!"  I could identify with the internal struggle that manifested within and emerged uncontrolled from the person's body. It is unbelievable that I happened upon such a piece of art during such a difficult period of my life. Some people might think of this phenomenon as destiny or fate, but I think that perhaps it is simply that I could relate."

"Under Pinochet, many Chileans experienced horrific violence and the loss of their fundamental rights. Fortunately, I never experienced such dehumanization personally. I cannot imagine that anyone could ever feel safe or secure again after living through the repression and violence of Pinochet’s policies. I don't think I could ever go to another soccer game without imagining soldiers slaughtering my friends and neighbors on the field. This specific piece of street art spoke to me as a person who was suffering. I doubt that there is anyone in the world who could not relate to it in a way, whether miniscule or significant."

"I also felt a strong connection to the painting of the hooded man in the tunnel. I am fascinated by the mystery of tunnels. There a sense of hollowness yet comfort in the nearby undeniable density that complements the empty space. The two states of existence are codependent, just as my sorrow could not exist had I never experienced great joy. I felt that the darkness of the man in the tunnel, shaded by circumstance, would be transformed upon his exit. His feelings of powerlessness to change such circumstances, represented in the painting by ill-defined hands, were not permanent. This painting gave me more hope for the future than any consoling words."

"I will never believe that there was a reason for Cassandra to die. I feel like these paintings are on the same plane of thought. We may not be entirely in control and we may be hurting, but there is no shame in sharing our feelings. It is the acknowledgement of such universalities that makes us feel human again."