Writing on the Wall Project
Hold Me, 22”x30”, Watercolor and Gouache
Available at The Gallery at Somes Sound, ME.
This project started as desire to reconnect with a form of creative expression that I have always had a tremendous appreciation for: graffiti. As a young kid growing up in Philadelphia in the 1980s, early Hip Hop culture was exploding all around me and I was fascinated by the sights and sounds bubbling up from the cracks in the pavement. Being a visual person, I was drawn to graffiti.
Graffiti is a personal means of public self-expression that can communicate the rhythms and emotions of a specific time and place. This desire to write or paint on the surfaces of our built environment is nothing new, however. From the cave paintings of Lascaux and earlier, humans have acted on this creative impulse to depict something on walls as a record for others to see. Graffiti’s subversive, illegal nature became a poster child for urban blight and crime, but it was just a continuation of people saying “this is my name, this is where I’m from… and I existed.” Graffiti is no longer a dirty word that conjures up urine-soaked back alleys and subway cars, but a complex universe that encompasses everything from quickly thrown up monikers (names) to ornate street art murals, complete with corporate sponsorship and commercial intentions. There are writers who still lurk in the shadows under the cover of night and those who openly embrace the spotlight of the newly found acceptance of street art. There are those who use the medium as a form of social or political commentary, and those who are seeking the respect and recognition of their fellow writers. I think there is room for all of these things.
The goal of this project was to create a body of paintings which explore graffiti as a reflection of this moment in our society and culture. The past couple of years have been a whirlwind of social and political unrest that have been many years in the making. Police brutality, the Black Lives Matter movement, political division, coupled with a unprecedented global pandemic, have turned our world upside down. I did not quite know what I was looking for, or what I’d find, but I figured some of this turmoil must be finding expression. In the end, I realized I could only filter what I saw through my own eyes and experience. I do not know the artist’s intentions, so I had to look for writing that moved me for my own personal reasons within the context of current events. Some of the examples that I have found, and painted, were executed within the past several years, and some were most likely done before then. I think that this moment in time did not happen spontaneously, but rather came about from the accumulation of many events and circumstances. Where I know the artist that painted the graffiti, I try to give credit, but the majority of the examples are unknown to me.
I think graffiti is part of a sacred relationship between the landscape and the written word that continues to be a record of the times in which we exist.
* This project is supported in part by the Vermont Arts Council, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Vermont Community Foundation.
Brush Rest Brooklyn, NY 40"x26" Watercolor and Gouache I came across this powerful scene in Bushwick, Brooklyn, an area that has become famous for its collection of street art covering the walls of old factories and warehouses. The piece, by an artist called Duel RIS, was painted by brush in a calligraphic style within an unused doorway situated on a busy street corner. It depicts the ancient symbol of the hamsa, which represents protection and healing in multiple ethnic and religious traditions. Its placement, centered in this alcove, reminded me of a shrine or altar amid the turmoil of the city. The artist seemed to have intentionally placed the hamsa right where it was needed, right when it was needed. This feeling of refuge was further confirmed as a homeless man proceeded to park his cart full of belongings and sit down on a crate, directly in the middle, to rest for a long while. For me, it was a powerful indication of how urgently we, as a culture, need to create spaces of sanctuary and refuge open to all. These are needed in urban areas as well as rural ones. We are innately drawn to places that feel safe and protected, and this should be the right of every human being, regardless of race, religion, or social status. This was also a stark reminder of just how much work our country has left to do regarding homelessness and mental illnesses. These problems seemed to have only worsened during Covid, with no real blueprint in existence for how to move forward. This painting captured a beautiful moment where graffiti was interacting with its environment to serve a positive purpose.
Hold Me W. Rutland, VT 22"x 30" Watercolor and Gouache I found this example of graffiti among the abandoned buildings of an old marble quarry complex outside of Rutland, VT. These buildings have been frequently used as hang out spaces by local youth seeking a place to call their own. Profanities and genitalia are sprayed large and bold among the smashed bottles and concrete. These words were different. Where most graffiti is intended to be viewed by the public, the writing in these buildings seemed intensely personal and private. It felt to me as if the writer sought out this dark space specifically because this seclusion might allow a canvas for vulnerable expression. There were other similar accompanying requests (or commands?) that worked their way around the room in an almost three dimensional poem. I do not know the artist’s intention behind these words, but it seemed sort of like a cry for help that was not yet ready to land on anyone’s ears, but had to be uttered all the same. These words, within this space, brought up many emotions within myself as I process the current state of affairs within our country. First off, there is the lack of physical touch we have all been experiencing throughout the Covid pandemic. The desire for love and affection is such a basic a human need that has been denied to so many during this period of heightened isolation and solitude. I also cannot help but think about so many disillusioned youth in our country who seem to have nothing to live for and no sense of belonging or purpose. The epidemic of gun violence and school shootings seems to be getting worse, not better. Rural areas which once offered the promise of great jobs and prosperity have been reduced to conditions that foster anger and addiction. This needs to change.
But This Too Shall Pass Philadelphia, PA 30"x 22" Watercolor I came across these words written on the side of an old stone church in Center City, Philadelphia. This saying has a long and fabled past, with roots in ancient Persia, speaking to the ephemeral and transient nature of the human condition. Living and dying through a global pandemic has brought us all face to face with this stark reality. I’m guessing the writer was intending to comfort strangers with the knowledge that, at some point, Covid would be in the past and forgotten. However, it felt more like a graphic wake-up call that although our well-being can be balanced on a knife’s edge, the temporary existence of our physical bodies is a done deal. Being reminded of this can be both comforting and terrifying all at once. The words were written in a chalk based paint that was already fading from the rains.
I’m Ready to Die Milton, VT 19.5"x42" These words were written in an abandoned creamery facility in rural Vermont. I do not know the sincerity of this declaration, or the age of the writing or writer, but it touched me deeply. Despair and depression are very serious issues, and the last few years have certainly witnessed these emotions taking hold in people’s everyday lives. Many of these small Vermont towns have also seen the loss of vital industries that once fueled their local economy. Over time and generations, this loss can erode the sense of pride and prosperity of individuals and whole communities. I cannot help but feel that the epidemics of suicide, drug addiction, and mass shootings are fueled by a lack of purposeful options confronting today’s youth, and partly tied into this cycle. This pattern can be seen repeated in rural areas across the country. This graffiti was a reminder of that to me. All around this building, however, there were signs of green springing up out of the cracks. Saplings and opportunistic plants were grabbing hold of fresh air and moisture and bathing the room in a sense of light and hopefulness.
AMOK Philadelphia, PA 26"x40" Watercolor and Gouache ‘Amok : in a violently raging, wild, or uncontrolled manner ‘ (Websters Dictionary) This piece is located under the Henry Ave Bridge in Philadelphia. The beautiful man made structure collides with the verdant Wissahickon Park and a maze of trails through the woods created by humans and animals. I’m almost certain the writer, AMOK, rolled out their moniker in paint years ago, but I was struck by its bold graphic style and the word’s relevance to recent events. It feels like nature has run amok. Humans are rapidly encroaching upon and destroying the delicate ecosystems and habitats of so many plants and animals. Bacteria, molecules, proteins, viruses are all moving in a dynamic rapidity never before seen. Climate change is real, and its effects are getting more intense year after year. When this fragile balance is so violently disturbed, there will be repercussions. It seems Mother Nature always seeks ways to balance and heal. Whether it is flooding, wildfires, or a global pandemic, we are consistently being reminded we are not in the driver’s seat. It also feels like our society has run amok. Riots, looting, police brutality. Political violence threatening the very core of our democracy. We are a country trying to come to grips with who we were, who we are, and who we want to be. We have become unhinged in this process, but perhaps this is required in order to answer these questions. Someone also told me they read the letters as: (I) AM OK, which would be a brave statement within the context of a global pandemic.
Black is Beautiful Philadelphia, PA 36"x 22" Watercolor I walked over this writing on the sidewalk of 52nd street in West Philadelphia while being shown some of the recent mural projects completed in the area. This corridor has a rich African American cultural history that once bustled with jazz clubs, theaters, and restaurants. The neighborhood has seen its share of ups and downs over the years, and has redefined itself through every reincarnation. You can feel this history in the pavement. Most recently, it was the site of frustration boiling over in the form of violent protests and looting in response to the George Floyd murder. This had a devastating impact on some businesses who were struggling to reopen after Covid closures. I felt a mix of emotions coming from these streets and open doorways: joy, anger, frustration, passion, violence, pride. I was confronted on the street by an angry man who told me to leave. His eyes were on fire and seemed to be questioning what right I, a middle-aged white guy, had to be in his neighborhood taking pictures of walls and streets. It shook me up a bit, and it is still a question I wrestle with. Following the fight for civil rights, the ‘Black is Beautiful’ phrase represented a movement towards Afrocentric pride. It seems appropriate that the phrase is being taken up once again as racial tensions and perceptions are running hot. History seems to be repeating itself, and most likely will continue to do so, until we confront our past and look to remedy the systemic racial and social inequities embedded in our society.
Black Lives Matter I Brooklyn, NY 52"x26" Oil on Canvas This mural was one of several on a construction fence surrounding a disused gas station in Brooklyn, NY. I found this particular example, by artist Lexi Bella, so powerful because so much was being expressed with only the young girl’s eyes. They looked sad, disappointed, and angry all at the same time. Her eyes seemed to be asking, searching, almost challenging anyone who was waiting to cross the street with the simple questions we forget as we get older. Why do some people treat others so badly? Why can’t my friends and I play outside without being afraid? Why are some people hungry while others waste so much? Why does this world not make sense? I wish I had answers for her. As with many other cities, gentrification has dramatically changed Brooklyn in recent years. The gas station lot behind the temporary fence is slated to become an expensive seventeen story residential building.
Black Lives Matter II Brooklyn, NY 16"x32" Oil on Canvas This was another mural from the same construction fence in Brooklyn, by the artist VBallentine. I was struck by the raw emotion of the man’s face while screaming to be heard. Every muscle, tendon and vein seems filled with anger and frustration as he shouts out the bold block letters, ‘BLACK LIVES MATTER’. In 2020, the murder of George Floyd was a tipping point in protesting a long history of police brutality. Silence was no longer an option. Voices had to shout so loud that they could no longer be ignored. Hopefully, this will lead to change and further accountability. Ironically, I watched as nearly every passerby walked along without taking notice of the mural or lifting their heads from their cellphones.
Respect…Exist Philadelphia, PA 42"x36" Watercolor If there are two words that sum up the last couple of years, this could be them. So many people, and groups of people, have been fighting tooth and nail for both respect and existence. This particular example of graffiti resides underneath the I-95 freeway in South Philly, at the FDR skatepark. This park was built entirely DIY by skateboarders who were being dismissed from the city’s public parks and needed a place to call their own. It has become a Mecca for a whole community of people who feel they have been ostracized by much of society. As we seek to find common ground and solutions among ever increasing political and social divisions, perhaps we could remember the importance of respect and existence for all communities.