Spend even a fleetingly nominal amount of time perusing my Instagram, and it becomes readily apparent that I’m an ardent fan of street art. I always have been. I mean, not the bullshit chicken-scratch variety of simply ego-based tagging ala “R.D. was Here,” but the more arrestingly colorful, illustrative stripe that famously turned subway platforms into kinetic art galleries back in the day.
I used to thrill to walk through SoHo back in the 80’s and most of the 90’s (i.e. before it devolved into solely a high-end shopping district), as seemingly every, rust-colored wall along its narrow, cobblestoned streets featured disarming arrays of street art of every kind. Huge murals, cryptic insignia, ubiquitous stencils and, later, waves of sticker campaigns and wheat-posted art were everywhere.
In time, “Street Art” became a more of a recognized form, invariably due to cats like Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Kenny Scharf, Richard Hambleton, Peter Missing, “Cost & Revs,” Shephard Fairey and, yes -- wait for it -- Banksy (among, of course, many others). I still remember when Fairey’s “Obey Giant” campaign was still in its seeming infancy. Now you see d-bag tourists from Pataskala, Ohio sporting his t-shirts. His became a merchandising empire.
Like Shephard Fairey (whose success I am not at all begrudging -– he’s earned it, and his heart’s in the right place, as far as I’m concerned), lots of street artists have become hugely successful (i.e. rich), and –- to my mind -– that phenomenon has sucked some of the novelty out of it. Like cloying season after season of preening “SNL” cast-members strenuously striving to coin a catch-phrase and launch a career as a recurring sketch, too many street artists seem to be trying to get high-profile name recognition. I suppose one can’t begrudge them from trying to make some cash out of it. I guess I just miss the clandestine, guerilla element of it.
If there’s a thriving street art scene in NYC anymore, it sure isn’t in Manhattan. I mean, yeah, that isn’t to say there’s no street art left here, but I’d suggest -– much like music -– you’re more likely to find the good stuff in the other boroughs, by this point.
Regardless, even though its fewer and further between, these days, spotting the compelling stuff is being made ever more difficult because of folks like Tommy, the subject of my friend Michael’s typically sprawling new article for Narratively about a guy who stealthily removes street art from urban edifices for his own private collection. To my mind, that makes you a dick. Street art should be for everyone to share.
Anyway, set aside an hour or two and check out Michael’s article here. And next time you covet a piece of street art, why not just take a photograph and leave it for other people to similarly discover?
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