April 2009: Nieuwleusen Overijssel with Pieter Zandvliet

Before we hear from today’s artist, I’d like to mention that I found another one of those “Comrade Obama” stickers today (see yesterday’s post). This time, I found one on a stop sign in Marlborough, the next town over. Anyone know what’s going on? If you’re in the know, let me know! Today’s post is short and sweet. Dutch artist Pieter Zandvliet started on the streets but transitioned to galleries. He writes: 

“I began in 1994 with A4 stickers. I covered them in original cartoons and stuck them all over the center of Rotterdam.”  “I stopped after a fight with two police suckers in 2005. I still miss it. Sometimes I relapse and stick some of them.”  “Today, I live for mixed medias.  What’s next? I dream of a big show in a big city where everybody loves my art!” All images courtesy of Pieter Zandvliet. For more information, visit his website.

Thanks, Pieter! I really appreciate your contribution. Now you can sit back and enjoy the rest of the posts!

Also, I forgot to give credit to Gotcha for the Irish artist and his impromptu show at the national gallery. Thanks! Tomorrow’s post follows up last week’s Amsterdam report with a lengthy note from the aforementioned Nick.

And finally (shameless plug), I wrote a small piece on Michael De Feo for Push It Magazine. The piece is cached in the website’s “Art” section. Let me know what you think! 

Friday ProFiles: YZ

In the streets of Brazzaville, Congolese boys stop and lock eyes with the giant stoic face watching from the wall. Bangladeshi men pause and look at the camera, oblivious to the visage looming behind them. Commuters in Bamako, Mali, pass by the face as they traverse the city. No matter where you are, YZ is watching. 

Today, YZ works with paint and film, but her earliest creative inklings involved clay. “My parents were potters,” she explains. “I use to hang out in my mother’s workshop doing things with the clay. I still have a few things from my childhood; I really like a little house that I made.” 

YZ and fellow artist Missill started the Open Your Eyes Project in 2003 to highlight otherwise invisible people and places. “YZ, pronounced ‘Eyes’, was inspired by my name, Yseult, and is also linked to the Open Your Eyes Project. When painting portraits, I try to make the eyes very striking in order to catch people’s interest in the street. I try to make the character come alive through their eyes.” 

Since the inception of the Project, YZ’s style has evolved. “It is more minimalist and mature now,” she remarks. “It has a more conceptual meaning today than before and I have a more personal way of creating my artwork, too.” While her style has changed, her fervent desire to communicate with others never wavered. “I want people to be touched by the faces I paint, to feel the emotion each character has to offer, and to relate to those faces,” she insists.  “I want them to remember what they saw. I want them to feel the way I feel when I am actually painting those faces. I want them to be more attentive to their environment.”   

While she doesn’t play favorites, YZ adds that Berlin and New York are excellent bombing locations. “Berlin is still a city under construction,” she says. “There are walls that are just waiting to be bombed. The street art scene is very active and fresh. New York is also one of my favorites. When you get to paint on a rooftop, it can be amazing. I remember painting in Brooklyn on a rooftop and having a beautiful view of a Manhattan sunset.” While she calls the suburbs of Paris home, YZ loves being on the move. “Street art is a good way to visit a city and get in places you would normally never go or meet people you’d otherwise never meet. It’s also a good way to reclaim the space we live in and interact directly with the people.” 

Spreading from the Congo and Mali, to Hong Kong, Germany, and New York, YZ says, “Any place where I’ve painted has been a great experience. Each place has been different and unforgettable: the reaction of the people in Bamako, the size of the painting in Berlin, the location in New York, or the history and impact of Brazzaville.” 

While she’s never participated in a crew, she has collaborated with other French stencil artists. “Being part of a crew can be very motivational,” she insists, “but it can slow you down and encroach on your freedom to do things with whomever you want.” Although flying solo doesn’t have the security benefits of a crew, YZ is fearless. “I’ve never felt unsafe,” she confesses. “But today I ask for permission if I want to do a large-scale painting. I also paint during the daytime as if I am authorized to do so. I don’t want to feel like a vandal out there, so I don't act like am.”

YZ isn’t content to rest on her laurels. When she’s not bombing, she creates documentaries and video art of urban environments. In the future, she’d like to combine her varied interests into a large-scale piece. “I would like to have a real exchange between the mediums of video, street art and music,” she explains. “I want to develop a project as strong as Open Your Eyes and paint in many cities worldwide. Right now I am working on the Project using many different materials like paper, glue, wallpaper, Poska pens, spray paint, earth, and leaves. I also have other ideas in the works.” Planning trips to Bucharest while compiling stills of her paintings into animating films, YZ manages to experiment in spite of her busy schedule. Catch a glimpse of her work in a metropolitan area near you. 

All photos courtesy of YZ. For more information, visit her website at http://open.your.eyes.free.fr/.

Thanks, YZ! I'm looking forward to catching your stuff in the near future. Today, I'll start looking at the post line-up for next week, so send me your work if you want to be a part of it! After work today, I'm off to New York for a Cut Copy show, roaming the streets, and catching up with a pack of my favorite ladies. Have a great weekend and meet back here on Monday!

Friday ProFiles: The Mire Project

Today’s society places extreme emphasis on early success. Child prodigies and savants attract media attention but fade into the background as the pack catches up. Kinder soccer and junior gymnastics classes train tots before they’ve mastered walking. Get rich by 20! Earn a Ph.D by 24! Retire by 30! Barreling towards the future at warp speed, today’s super babies jump out of the womb and battle their way the top.

But there’s something to be said for late bloomers. In today’s breakneck world, taking your time is a forgotten skill. Olivier of the Mire project doesn’t have many memories of childhood artistic inklings. Growing up in a household that appreciated art, he was exposed at an early age but took a while to create his own. He recalls, “My creative side came a bit late. I remember the first poster I painted. I was very pleased with the result. I made it a habit to work with lots of bright colors and to play with these colors in an exciting way.”

Little tile aliens inspired Olivier to try his hand at street art. “The approach of Space Invaders motivated me to try urban art,” he recalls. “I, too, started doing mosaic collages representing rods, but I soon realized that the tile didn’t suit my approach; it was too awkward. I love S.I.’s work as a systematic and massive flooding.”  Fascinated by the stand-by patterns on television, Oliver created The Mire Project.

The project is based on the pervasive presence of media in daily life. “My work deals with the television,” Olivier explains, “and the phenomenon of dependence on screens. We are increasingly surrounded by screens: at home, at work, in public spaces. We’ve developed an insatiable need for screens. The stand-by pattern was broadcast in the late hours of the night (in France anyway) when programs over. We often come to the end of the programs, perhaps with the unconscious desire to want more.”

“Today, our wishes are fulfilled (for better or for worse). Television continuously broadcasts programs on hundreds of channels. I belong to a generation that saw the world of images emerge and explode. Today, we are bombarded with images for our distraction, our information, but also to maintain tranquility.” Combining posters, stickers, and Technicolor televisions, the stand-by pattern never looked so good.

This novel take on a classic symbol led Olivier to view his city’s streets in new ways. He recalls, “I was particularly productive during a period of unemployment following redundancy and before finding a new job. I remember climbing up an old refrigerator in the street to paste a poster. It was at night, the city was asleep, and as I watched the street from the top of the refrigerator, I realized that the street did not have the same appearance at this height. Being off the ground was an experience I remember vividly.”  Like any fledgling artist, Olivier was nervous in the beginning. “Starting out as an artist, particularly without artistic training, requires a certain courage,” he insists. “You have to prove that you’re legitimate. Street art has an advantage because everyone is invited to express himself or herself.” Due to his medium, Olivier has yet to run into trouble. “I’ve had several encounters with the police while I’m out pasting, but I’ve never had problems. The police were very understanding. Wheatpasting isn’t perceived as degradation. In Paris, posters are fairly common. I don’t believe that police are as understanding of graffiti as they are of murals.” Today, Olivier lives in Paris’s 17^th arrondissement and has been bombing its streets for the as three years. He explains, “I work mainly in Paris because I live here and I love this city. It has beautiful walls and street art is very present.” Because of his day job (Olivier remains mum about his alter ego), he posts sporadically when he has a spare minute. While he may not always have the time, the motivation is always there. He adds, “What drives me is the street, the ephemeral nature of the works, the creative overflow and anti-conformist art of the urban, the absence of rules. I also think that this art has an urban warrior side and a poetic side; I like both sides.”

Speaking fondly of the freedom and passion behind street art, Olivier hopes that the field will continue to morph and grow in the future. “I hope it will keep its anarchic side spontaneous and overflowing,” he wishes. “The police have always tried to counter urban art, but it always managed to adapt: going up on rooftops, using stencils, and putting graffiti on display. I hope street artists will continue to find loopholes and that street art will be where we didn’t think to look.” 

All images courtesy of The Mire Project. Check out more shots at http://www.flickr.com/photos/33624157@N06/.

Thanks so much, Olivier! I do hope I translated well. Sorry about all the confusing questions; I do my best with French. Hope warm weather and good times come your way this weekend and I'll catch you all next Monday! Have a good one.

January 2009: 100artworks and Sickboy

Bristol's Sickboy is known for using any material as a painting surface: paper, brick, canvas. However, his latest medium of choice is a bit more high-end. This time around, he's tracing his temples on 24 carat gold sheets. A far cry from abandoned factory buildings. Tom over at 100artworks.com gave us a bit more information:

"From early 2000 no street corner or rubbish bin in Bristol was safe. What appeared on them was strange and unique and the graffiti phenomenon known as Sickboy was born. Obsessed with yellow and red dome like temples, Sickboy left his mark in every nook and cranny."

"Interested with the natural restoration of the Bristol, Sickboy sees his work as approachable to a wide audience. Each temple is unique but all act as a very identifiable logo."

The red and yellow used within the temples reflect the purposeful colour theory behind many corporate logos such as McDonald's. The bright colours are instantly eye catching against the gritty backdrop of urban life."

There are 250 non-gold and 75 gold-leaf prints in the edition. Each 30 x 30 cm piece comes signed and numbered by the artist.

I'm just curious as to where the urban life part comes in. Maybe "started out hustlin', ended up ballin"?

Next week, I'm looking forward to getting back outside. I do like the galleries, but I always love what's going on in the streets. Tomorrow's Friday ProFile features a French artist fascinated with TV static. Any guesses?

July 2008: São Paulo

Thursday's post comes from my friend Sven. This globetrotting Swede is also an avid street art and hip hop fan, so we get along quite well. Today, he shares a few shots from Brazil. He writes:

Nice to hear from you. Of course you can have some of the pics!

Unfortunately... I accidentally deleted about 40% of the pics I took (oops). Therefore, I no longer have documentation of Buenos Aires... :(

Here are the ones I still have.

... which turned out to be not that many. They're all from São Paulo. Can't believe I deleted so many!!

I think I have some cool ones from Lithuania somewhere. I'll try and find them and get back to you.

The blog is looking great by the way! Really good stuff. I'm also starting one (who isn't). It'll be about global hip hop, kinda like global street art! You'll be getting bombarded with promotion when it goes up!

I am ready to be inundated with hype, Sven. Tomorrow, check out the Friday ProFile with...oh please, I'm not giving that away.

July 2008: Istanbul

This is the first of many posts on a city that I love. Straddling two continents and conflicting worldviews lies Istanbul, the cosmopolitan economic and cultural hub of Turkey. Turkey is a Muslim country but its secular government sets it apart from its Middle Eastern neighbors. French poet Alphonse de Lamartine once said, “If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.” Although Lamartine wrote in the mid 1800s, his assessment of this ancient metropolis still rings true. For tourists eager to tap into the Middle East, Istanbul is an excellent starting point.

Historically, Istanbul was Turkey’s capital. Its position on the Bosphorus made it a key stronghold of the Byzantine and Ottoman empires. Following the First World War, Turkish society changed dramatically. Under Mustafa Kemal (known colloquially as Atatürk), the former Ottoman Empire was rapidly westernized. 

Atatürk drove a sharp wedge between religion and the state by removing imams from politics and replacing them with Swiss civil and Italian penal codes. Turks relearned Turkish in the Roman alphabet, not Arabic. With the support of wealthy Turks, Atatürk fostered fierce nationalism and encouraged secularization. To this day, his picture still hangs in homes and shops and on walls throughout the city.

But there's more than just Atatürk's face hanging on the wall these days. Street art and graffiti are everywhere. Today's photos highlight my favorite large paintings. A melting pig's face oozes off the side of a building. A decapitated creature (the caption translates to 'scalpel') bleeds onto an unsuspecting napper. What appear to be large hippo teeth take a bite out of a nearby pipe. A creature with two megaphones for a head stands ready to make an announcement. A skeleton with a wonky eyeball gestures with his bony finger.

These pieces were not hidden on the streets. In fact, they were quite prominent in certain neighborhoods. I'll return to Istanbul for many a post to showcase the different stencils, stickers, and posters that make up the city's street culture.

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."

More From Mile End

I'll keep it short and sweet today. Since I loved USINE 106U so much, I figured I'd toss on some additional shots from the building. Check out USINE's Myspace for more events. It makes me think a bit of Real Art Ways in Hartford but with a much more do-it-yourself vibe. Brace those tummies for a filling post tomorrow. 

August 2008-Berlin

Today's post comes from Yasmine in sunny Montréal, Canada. Her photos come mainly from the Mitte section of Berlin. She writes:

"The one with the blue gentleman and green around him is super popular because it is by a hostel around Rosenthalerplatz and a design firm built out of shipping containers. That combo in itself was freaking sweet! There are so many sweet things in Berlin but you see so many that you get desensitized. That one stuck out regardless."

"The Garfieldesque cat described my mood at that moment. Plus it is a random find in this tunnel area. But really, a toaster, a cat telling you to shove it, and a volleyball? Brilliant."

"The talking cameras were in the same area as the cat. The entire tunnel was plastered with awesome things (even some Lego hearts and mirrors reflecting from the other side of the wall). It's funny because we are always being watched somewhere, somehow. You can barely ever waltz around freely anymore! The cameras are talking and from what I can make out of them, one of them is saying "Bernie is sick!" and the other one responds "Oh, I know Bernie!" Haha ah! I like."

"The following stencil reminded me a lot of Banksy. I don't if it's him or not, but I quite enjoyed the little boy on the steps, just hangin' out. You know how it is!"

"Finally, the last one is Oje/Lucy! My camera batteries were dead most times when I saw awesome graf (again, there was SO much of it), but Lucy was everywhere: on the sidewalk, in little corners of here and there, up high, down low! Super cute. She's kind of comforting but also taunting, like 'HERE I AM!'"

"The Berlin wall is basically only graf. After a certain point, you think "Okay, this wall is loooooooong." You have to pick which things to take pics of when you know your batteries are about to die. I'm going with twelve cameras next time. Okay, maybe two. Maybe we can meet up there. YES!"

I agree, Yas. From what I've heard, Berlin is a place I desperately need to see. Does anyone have other shots from Berlin or elsewhere? Send them my way! Also, get ready because Friday's post is shaping up to be massive. Fast your seatbelts and brace for impact.

December 2007-Boston

Until December of last year, I found the Boston street art scene to be fairly dry. Maybe I wasn't looking hard enough or I was missing the good neighborhoods, but after spending four years in the area, I'd yet to stumble on something impressive. That all changed when I picked up an issue of Boston's Weekly Dig and found an article on Modica Way. Located at 567 Mass. Ave. next to Cambridge's Central Kitchen restaurant, the alley is packed full of tags, wheatpastes, stickers, and stencils. When I visited, Niñeta's coy nymphs flirted with Goldenstash's mustachioed macho man. Nine Revolutions proclaimed their undying love over a of leaves and...blue chicken heads? Flowerguy's pretty perennials sprouted up over quirky wheatpasted collages while Billi Kid's retro stickers flew headfirst into a chalk horse's mouth.  The best part about the alley? You'll never see the same wall twice. Every so often, local artists hit the "refresh" button and paint it over with a whole new crew of contributors. I returned this fall to a completely new view (and yes, I will post those later). Check the wall out for yourself and see what's fresh; take the Red Line to Central Square and follow the trail. (More photos coming soon...)

March 2007-Belfast

NOTE: Sorry this post has become so mangled over the past two days. Being a fresh little blogger muffin straight from the oven, I'm still getting used to the format and posting procedures. 

After a ridiculous work week, it's Friday and I'm itching for a tasty post. I'll keep the text short and let the photos have their say.

In the spring of 2007, a day trip to Belfast sparked interesting discoveries. The city was completely different from the tank-infested combat zone of the 1990s. In the city center, posh shops lined the bustling streets while locals and tourists alike packed trendy restaurants. 

Straying from the CBD, however, the mood changed. The murals of Shankill Road and Falls Road shed light on the lingering tension between Catholic Unionists and Protestant Loyalists. On Falls Road, "Free Palestine" and "Santa is a British agent" stretched across whole buildings. These Unionist messages sharply contrasted the "Years of Resistance" and "Never Surrender" murals on Loyalist Shankill Road. Negotiations and treaties may have quelled the violence, but the historical roots of the problem are on display in this snug square mile.

What surprised me most about the trip was how disconnected I felt. Despite my Irish decent, I viewed the murals from a historian's perspective. Growing up miles from the source, I could not connect to the strong emotions fueling the fire. This conflict was never mine. I appreciate the Einstein stencil because he captured the absurdity that I felt. His playful face didn't fit in the middle of West Belfast and neither did I. Someday, I'd love to return and wrap my head around this complex city.

April 2008-Montréal

I found this creeper while roaming around the Mile End neighborhood of Montréal, Canada. This neighborhood is teeming with graffiti throw-ups and street art alike. I found this blue beanpole on the outside of USINE 106U, an art gallery/laboratory where art is shown and created simultaneously. This blue beanpole took me by surprise as I rounded the corner. I felt that way about most of Montréal; everywhere I went, I craned my neck to find another sticker or stencil nestled away in an unlikely place.

Thanks to Mish for following me around for five hours. I apologize to everyone who's ever been dragged out on one of my tireless searches. It must be incredibly taxing if you're not hunting for fresh paint.

P.S. I apologize that I'm not posting artists with my photos. I'm currently working on compiling a guide in my spare time but it may take a bit. If you can enlighten me or anyone else,       please post a comment!