Art as Authority

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Fabian d'Hondt lives and works in Charleroi, Belgium.

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KAI1, young graffiti artist, U.S. made joins the editorial staff at Art as Authority (we just keep getting better and better) with his first essay on the present state of graffiti and its incurable future. We welcome KAI and look forward to a long and painted journey with him. KF

Graffiti has infected hearts and minds throughout the world, whether you love it or hate it we cannot turn back now. Wherever there is a blank wall and a kid (or adult) with a can of paint graffiti will emerge. Graffiti is a manifestation of the build up of feelings and oppressions brewing inside of all human beings. The participants on the illegal side of the graffiti contest bridge all barriers including race, class, age and gender. The people who are cleaning up graffiti are not as varied – they are usually middle aged folks who don’t understand why the kids keep writing on their walls. But the real actors in the game of graffiti can be anyone.

If you look carefully enough you are just as apt to see a forty year old married man with children putting up hand styles as you are a fresh faced and promiscuous twenty something girl hitting trains or bombing the streets. There are the trust fund kids whose parents give them allowances and apartments in Manhattan. There are the truly skuzzy train hopping degenerates who would never even think of paying for paint because they steal it, just like they steal everything else. The dude who has the most ups in town might go home to sleep under 300 thread count sheets or he might be outside the corner store panhandling for money to buy a forty ounce.

The real question is: “What compels all of these different people in society to write, draw, paint, scribe, and etch their nom de plumes on walls, trains, trucks, windows, vans, or any other surface within reach?” One could argue that graffiti itself is not artistic. Many graffiti writers would concur with this, citing that good graffiti is all about raw destruction. Anyone can grab a marker and write their name on a wall. Most people that I’ve spoken with have at least one or two memories of doing graffiti at some point in their life. Graffiti doesn’t consume the majority of us, but it really gets the ones it’s able to get its sticky grip around. Minutes turn to hours, hours to days, and days to years. New sets of letters come and go, there is not end point, and there is an infinite possibility of combinations.

While most people don’t find the quick scrawls and signatures placed helter skelter across the urban and suburban sprawl aesthetically pleasing these are the backbone of the culture. If you don’t have good hand styles you are nothing, simply an imitator, a toy, a wannabe. When a writer learns to tag he starts to understand the concept of letters in graffiti. With much practice the neophyte will soon master the thousands of almost invisible intricacies of what makes letters dope. After having a handle on this basic area of graff they can continue to evolve their style in to something more complex. Even the most square of citizens seems to be intrigued by intricate full color wild style pieces. They can appreciate the craftsmanship and the flow and color in the letters. They may not be able to see the letters themselves in the piece of graffiti but they still can appreciate it. It is most sad that this same public can not appreciate the quintessential element of graffiti – the tag – due to their close-mindedness or ignorance.

The all inclusive nature of graffiti is what I find most intriguing. Anyone can paint graffiti but some spend there lives obsessed with it while some are slightly annoyed by having to paint it over on their wall. It is my contention that any act of graffiti is an inherently artistic act. Even if the tagger possesses no skill or understanding of the craft they are still adding to the ever changing landscape. Graffiti looks at the world as a giant canvas begging for worldwide collaboration. No matter how minuscule a simple tag is in the grand scheme of things it still must mean something. Even if the creator is unaware it conveys ideas at once moral, political, and social. Once thousands of these ideas are stacked up one only was to literally read the writing on the walls.

Most young writers think graffiti is simply a big FUCK YOU to the government, pure individualism and anarchy. If only graffiti were as simple as letting the world know you were once here. The actual motivations of graffiti writers are usually more complex and sadly also more often then not influenced by ego.

It used to be that a spray can was picked up at around ten or twelve and that a person’s vandalism career would be over before the writer was out of high school. The dense network of a few train lines in a few neighboring cities of yesteryear has been replaced by an expansive interpretation of graffiti. Writers now crave world wide fame as opposed to only neighborhood glory. Pictures of graffiti in a Podunk town can be posted online for the world to see within seconds.

Fame in graffiti can be vague and elusive. When a graffiti writer speaks of being famous it only means recognition within their esoteric subculture. Extreme fame, or superstar status, almost invariably comes at a high price. It seems that the more you are up the more people are jealous and will hate on you. The occasional writer will also sometimes obtain fame within mainstream society usually when working with a very bold and readable letter style that can easily be decrypted by the untrained eye. This is usually even more detrimental as it will give the police a good name to throw around as they try to find you. While this public recognition has allowed a few artists entrance into the upper echelon where you actually get paid to do art they are few and far between.

In recent times graffiti writers usually have careers starting as teenagers and bridging into their twenties. The vast systems of freight trains have united those in the suburbs or small cities. Freights allow them to paint pieces that will be seen by a wide audience while in contrast even the most prolific destruction of their own town would be noticed by relatively few. Writers in larger places often tend to disagree with this interpretation and view street bombing as the true hard core interpretation of graffiti. They are right in the sense that freight trains are often easier to paint than the streets although graffiti on trains carries high penalties if one is caught.

While the question of what makes an aesthetically pleasing piece of graffiti is open for interpretation and comes down to individual preference the key focus is on letters. “Letter purists” think that the toughness and stylishness of the letter forms themselves is most important while the “Techies” value technique and cleanliness over the actual substance of the letters themselves. While it is true that many writers are able to achieve a balance between these two elements of graffiti many never fully master both. Many people think that graffiti should not be pretty, that its core value is to be used as an element of warfare and destruction. Some writers consider themselves artists and some consider themselves anarchists.

Any true graffiti writer will tell you that the key component to graffiti is the letters themselves. Primitive characters were introduced at the onset of graffiti and while they continue to evolve with graffiti becoming all the more complex they are still only the icing on the cake. The fact that letters are the meat and potatoes of graffiti is a point of contention between the artists and mainstream society. Characters and figures are more easily recognizable and therefore not as alienating and isolating to the average Joe. The fact that the general public simply cannot see the letters is what really repulses them. No one wants to be the one who doesn’t get the joke. The fact that the publics’ ignorance to the art form precipitates their hatred of it is really quite sad. The fact that people state graffiti is not an art because of this reason is downright ridiculous. The fact that typography, calligraphy, and graphic design are recognized as legitimate art forms should cosign the fact that graffiti needs to be recognized right up there with them. I would even go so far to say that the typography of graffiti is decades ahead of other letter based art forms simply due to the fact of the massive proliferation of writers working to advance their art and get their names up. This constant evolution feeds the graffiti machine and causes new styles to be developed daily. You will often hear a certain graffiti writer refer to a bit of a piece as being in such and such writer’s style. The sheer number of fonts and letter styles absorbed and reworked within any given graffiti writers typographical lexicon is amazing.

Another testament to the fact that graffiti has a permanent foothold in society is its proliferation within advertising. The advertisement designers co-opted a legitimate art form off of the streets and used it to give their products a hip or cool light. Now that generations of graffiti writers have passed many of these writers have found themselves jobs in advertising or graphic design and they continue to carry on there rich folk art tradition through mainstream conduits. The dance like motions of graffiti is captured on television in music videos and advertisements. Graffiti is beamed to millions of people on the internet. Graffiti is like an incurable virus, we cannot stop it from replicating.

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OPENING TONITE: 6 - 10pm

The Art of Framing
3333 Adams Avenue
San Diego, CA. 92116
619.563.9770

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COULROPHOBIA
derived from the Greek words koulon(limb) and kolobathris(one who goes on stilts) or in English – the Fear of Clowns – is one of those phenomenon that has probably existed since time immemorial when the court jester had to make the King laugh and has evolved throughout the centuries into carnival freak shows, the circus and later through film.

However, coulrophobia is one of those bizarre obscure maladies that no one has heard of but everyone has, once it was identified and let out of the phobia closet, thanks in large part to the internet and Rodney Blackwell – web designer and coulrophobe. The term was likely coined by Blackwell in the late 90’s and his “No Clown Zone” ihateclowns.com website. It has among others who have created their own coulrophobia websites, become a safe haven for thousands of sufferers with helpful resources, discussion boards and information about this disease. Most coulrophobes would agree that the “fear” of clowns arises from their heavy makeup, bulbous nose and demonic colored hair that conceals the wearer’s identity and a potential darker/evil personality. Blackwell chalks his coulrophobia up to the musical comedy “The Wiz” starring Michael Jackson as the Scarecrow (which in itself is frightful even without the makeup) and Diana Ross as Dorothy (ditto.) But specifically to a scene in the movie where they encounter a vendor in the New York subway selling creepy clown dolls, which suddenly take on exorbitant proportions and chase them through the tunnels.

Kelly Hutchison is the curator for the latest exhibit at the Art of Framing entitled Coulrophobia – The Fear of Clowns, but he is NOT a coulrophobe. You could say that he is a wee bit uxorious though of clowns and you would be right. But we can forgive him for this as he has managed to bring an amazing array of over 40 local and national clowns, er.. artists together for this show in San Diego. Some of these artists include the likes of Skip Williamson, Extremo the Clown, Pistol Pete, Mr. Screens, Delphia Art, Christina Gusek, Tracy Duncan, KMC plus many more, and John Wayne Gacy. I’ll get to Gacy’s work later.

Some of you might remember Hutchison’s previous solo show a few months back that was just as provocative as this one. If you recall, it was the excitement of seeing so much vibrant and diverse works hung one on top of another, screaming off the walls in neon colors, with babbling idiots and eyeball pie, cannibalistic grandmothers and others making up the majority of Hutchison’s strange and macabre world. So it was with a certain anticipation that I patiently awaited Coulrophobia. First, kudos should be given to Hutchison for pulling off such a large undertaking, collecting works from forty very different artists spread out across this golden land, getting them to agree on the same theme and then having their works arrive on time at the gallery – no easy feat. Unfortunately, as in most theme oriented group shows there are typically those artists who adapt their style and technique to a similar décor but substitute the lead actor for their own – a lot like moving characters around in the same doll house. I wasn’t disappointed by what I saw but I wasn’t exactly surprised either. Not like I had been previously by Hutchison’s solo effort.

There were exceptions of course, such as Extremo the Clown’s moulded rubber bas-reliefs of carnival-esque clown heads and emaciated Priestess of Clowning complete with pointy breasts, demonic scraggly hair and the number 13 above her head. There was enough work in the show to bring out the coulrophobe in all of us but a majority of it would have probably put you to bed. As you might expect there were several Bush administration and current political affairs work in the show, in particular a nice piece by Paul Vauchelet showing Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld dressed up as clowns lighting the Constitution on fire. There was also the piece by Mr. Screens, showing Bush wearing a suicide belt peeking out from under his clown suit with a dunce cap on his head. But overall, the majority of the works being shown were the usual suspects of clown convicts, clown axe murderers, clowns clowning around, clown skulls, sexy clowns, devil clowns, monkey clowns, evil joker clowns etc. In the end, the show was a solid and interesting display of works albeit somewhat predictable in its final act.

What was not predictable were two pieces that received little or no attention. Suffice to say, they went beyond a stereotypic treatment of the subject hitting the clown squarely on the head so to speak, but for two very different reasons and intentions. The two works were made by Ryan Campbell and John Wayne Gacy. The former is very much alive and living in San Diego, the latter has been dead since 1994, after having been tried and executed for his crimes. Now it is not my intention to cast any dispersion or guilt upon Campbell, nor to associate him with the horrors Gacy committed, it is to simply point out that the collective memory of a society (I’ve heard some say it’s 5 years max) is very limited and selective – and I believe increasingly so – from one generation to the next. This can also be seen in the artwork being produced today by an influx of younger and younger artists and the crossover of “street” art such as graffiti, into the folds of graphic and fashion design. What was once considered underground now and has been for awhile, been sucked dry, vampire-ized by a society’s lust for fresh blood and talent.

Campbell’s work is entitled “The Greatest Show on Earth” comprised of a crucifix of Jesus painted as a clown on a candy-stripped cross. The original plaque over Jesus’ head INRI (Iesvs Nazarenvs Rex Ivdaeorvm – Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews) has been replaced by a plaque reading BOZO. Campbell much like Pontius Pilate has condemned Jesus not to a lesser fate but perhaps to a more pleasant one. But Campbell is only the third to do so; it was in 1989 that his predecessor struck a nerve in the American psyche.

1989 was a rough year for the arts in America as the social and political climate changed; as we witnessed George Herbert Walker Bush succeed Ronald Regan as the 41st President. Serial killer Ted Bundy was executed in Florida. The Soviets leave Kabul ending nine years of military occupation. The Ayatollah Kohmeini encourages Muslims to kill author Salman Rushdie for writing the Satanic Verses. Students begin protesting in Tiananmen Square. Gorbachev and Bush announce that the Cold War between their two countries may be coming to an end. And last but not least, the invention of the World Wide Web by Tim Berners-Lee. 1989 also gave us two senators, Mr. Jesse Helms and Mr. Alfonse M. D’Amato, who headed up a witch hunt against funding for the NEA – National Endowment for the Arts. It was also a very heady time in the arts with a lot of money being made on the Wall Street floor and being spent in the gallery backroom with very young and very rich “Yuppies” with no taste meeting up with very hungry art dealers. It was a match made in Heaven. But no paradise is complete without a few poisoned apples and these came in the form of two major exhibitions by Andres Serrano and Robert Mapplethorpe, both photographers. Serrano exhibited a photograph of a crucifix in urine from a series of photographs dealing with blood, urine, milk and sperm; Mapplethorpe in another part of the country exhibited a series of photos (nudes) covering S & M, gay black leather culture and homoeroticism. Both received and /or the institutions they were showing in funding from the NEA – a government branch.

A lot has been written and argued over these past 17 years about Serrano’s “Piss Christ,” the title of the photo in question, but I won’t go into the pros and cons here about such an important work of art in my mind, as the reader should decide for himself. I will say though, like all good genuine art, it will cause the viewer to reflect and will challenge his/her beliefs, culture, intellect and vision. Needless to say, the controversy from these two exhibits apparently disturbing the moral fabric of the American culture and religious beliefs, had a negative impact on further government funding of the arts but at the same time, opened up the pearly gates of a pluralistic art and its artists – anything was possible now, anything could be said, anything could be made regardless of its alleged “offensiveness.”

While this is not a problem in itself, I believe this was the beginning of a trend in art for good or bad, that started to disassociate the artist from any responsibility and drove the artwork’s form and content into a much more expressive, non-historical, political and social one-liners and decorative knock-offs. Knowledge was no longer power but a hindrance to the artist. Perhaps these days it’s a generational thing if you will – call me an old fart – but with the speed in which information is disseminated there is less time to reflect and to contemplate and an increased urgency to communicate which often times than not falls into the category of the visual. Check out YouTube if you don’t believe me. This is pure acting without seeing, believing without hearing, listening without reading – it just doesn’t work.

Ryan Campbell’s “The Greatest Show on Earth” is good art, even great art that pauses one to reflect and question those very same beliefs Serrano was asking us to do. Campbell’s work is so right-on the mark from the title to its content and form, is searing in its red hot perceptibility and clear in its intent, that it is shocking in its clarity and openness to be read by any viewer willing to understand its multiple readings and to realize the inevitable truth that it WAS the Greatest Show on Earth. The second unnoticed work in the Coulrophobia exhibit is by John Wayne Gacy.

John Wayne Gacy was a serial killer. This from the Wikipedia Free Encyclopedia:

Gacy was convicted and later executed for the rape and murder of 33 boys and young men, 29 of whom he buried in the crawl space under his house. The youngest victim was nine years old; the oldest was around 20. He became notorious as the “Killer Clown” because of the many block parties he attended, entertaining children in a clown suit and makeup. During his time on Death Row, Gacy took up oil painting, and his favourite subject was painting portraits of clowns. He claimed to have used his clown act as an alter ego, once sardonically saying that “a clown can get away with murder.”

Gacy’s painting in Coulrophobia is not of a clown but of the Seven Dwarfs frolicking in a snowy winter landscape. It is for all intensive purposes, a very bad painting on any formal or aesthetic level. It appears in fact, to be one of those classic “New England” style thrift store paintings complete with covered wood bridge, babbling brook and large oak tree off to the left. Gacy simply painted over the original in white, turning the summer landscape into a winter paradise. He then painted the Seven Dwarfs into the painting joyously playing in the snow. It is pretty obvious the only interest in this questionable work of art comes from the fact that it was painted by a serial killer. Are we celebrating the artwork or the serial killer? It would seem the latter as Gacy has fascinated thousands and inspired many more from the television network Fox who used Gacy’s prison cell during the filming of their hit TV show “Prison Break” to Madonna Wayne Gacy, band member of Marilyn Manson’s rock group. Gacy’s painting is owned by a private collector. I wonder why he/she purchased it. Was it for its artistic merit or for its very perverse and macabre creator? A little bit of second hand fame and glory perhaps, something one could be proud of – who knows. Am I morally outraged?, no, but I fail to see the point in showcasing this work as if it were an Icon to be worshipped, as if something could truly be learned from it, as if it could all make us better people or at the very least, better painters.

Listen, people kill people and people let other people die without batting an eye – it’s a fact. Glenn Beck tells us every night that terrorists want to kill him, you and me, innocents die everyday in Iraq, Afghanistan and Darfur, gunmen kill children in schools, journalists are murdered for their investigative reporting and on and on and on. My point is this: have we become such media whores watching some spectacle like gladiators in the Coliseum, waiting for the blood to spill, the thumbs up or down on life, that we have become jaded by the violence and carnage that it washes over us without leaving a stain? A bit of remorse? A bit of sadness? Is it nothing more than trivia?, nostalgia?, memorabilia? thirty seconds after its been broadcast? Don’t be mistaken, this painting by Gacy is not evil, Gacy himself was evil, but the painting itself remains all the more violent in its apparent innocence and context – resting peacefully within the sanctity of the gallery walls, immune.

I have to wonder if it is truly life enhancing, mind altering, relevant, to see a painting by Gacy. Is it truly necessary, as we scan the surface looking for some hidden clue, some hidden insight to the warped mind of Gacy, as we try to discover the mystique of this very sick and deranged individual, as if Gacy himself was trying to tell us something through his artistic vision, as if there was some truth, some validity, some credibility to who he was, looking for some upstanding character trait in his personality that led him to lead such an exemplary role model in the community and to kill children at night and finally become the terrific artist he was. Horseshit. Was it a mistake to put this painting in the show? I believe so. We’re not looking at Gacy’s work as Gacy the painter, but Gacy the serial killer and that’s just plain wrong to glorify murder and put it in a store front window and call it art.

So where does this leave us in the company of two very distinct and morally opposed works of art? Bewildered. Though Coulrophobia generally speaking was overall a good show, I’m a bit amazed and troubled by the lack of response gallery goers gave to Campbell’s and Gacy’s work. Did they feign ignorance? Did they not care? Did they truly not recognize, not know what was before them? Yes, the show was entitled “Fear of Clowns” and yes you would expect a certain amount of Tom foolery and Hollywood-ish Halloween-esque works of art on display, but that these two works fell through the collective cracks of the viewer’s interest disturbs me. Has the visual playing field been levelled to the point where one image is no longer stronger than another? Have we in the art world let the proverbial “table raze” clutter up with the incertitude and hodgepodge of visual imagery that no longer discerns between life, death, murder, politics, history, the wellness of its people and the machinations of its government? Between CNN and reality? Between truth and propaganda? I wonder and pray this is not the case.


Kevin Freitas


























The Art of Framing
3333 Adams Avenue
San Diego, Calif. 92116
619.563.9770
Through Halloween, 2006

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Ryan Campbell
"The Greatest Show on Earth," 2006 - mixed media

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Humeurs opened last night to a excited and welcoming crowd of LA art lovers and budding art students at the West Los Angeles College in Culver City, California. A great time was had by all and just before the festivities got rollining, Art as Authority caught (L to R) the young Monk, Brad Streeper and Michael Arata on film. In the background are works by (L to R) Maura Vazakas, John Lieberman, Brad Streeper, Joey Burns and Tom Torluemke. Come check out the expo through the first week in November. Photos of the exhibition to follow - be patient...

West Los Angeles College
9000 Overland Avenue
Culver City, CA 90230
Fine Arts Building 100
Parking in lot 8
310.287.4204

OVERALL VIEWS
Gallery front, left wall

Richard Gleaves, "Gift" - Maura Vazakas, "In the Swing of Things"



Maura Vazakas, "In the Swing of Things" "Louisiana" "Delaware" "New York" - Poor Al, "The Skeletal System" - Tom Torluemke, "Sasquatch" "Role Reversal" - Richard Gleaves, "Moment"



John Lieberman, "Untitled"(scroll)



Drawing Club



Bruno Lavelle, "Far from Eden" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage)



Bruno Lavelle, "Far from Eden" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - John Lieberman, "I'm an Army of One"



John Lieberman, "I'm an Army of One" - Poor Al, Yoga Bots(T to B) "Lord of Dance" "Locked Gate" "Balancing Stick" Wheel" "Kukutasawa" "Camel" - Tom Torluemke, "Landscapers" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Hervé Crespel, "Nice Object"



Tom Torluemke, "Landscapers" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Hervé Crespel, "Nice Object" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage)


Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Maura Vazakas, "Timeline" - John Lieberman, "I Like Fresh Beer Too"



John Lieberman, "I Like Fresh Beer Too" - Brad Streeper, "Composite" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Tom Torluemke, "8 Legs" "Hi" "Gang Raping a Butterfly"


Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Tom Torluemke, "8 Legs" "Hi" "Gang Raping a Butterfly" - Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage)


Joey Burns, "Untitled"(collage) - Richard Gleaves, "Record"



View looking into gallery - Régent Pellerin, "Peace Piece" center of gallery



Back of gallery - Régent Pellerin, "Peace Piece" center of gallery




Individual works in chronological order L to R

"Gift," Richard Gleaves



"Gift," Richard Gleaves



"In the Swing of Things," Maura Vazakas



"Louisiana, Delaware, New York," Maura Vazakas


"The Skeletal System," Poor Al



"Sasquatch, Role Reversal," Tom Torluemke



"Moment," Richard Gleaves



"Moment," Richard Gleaves



Drawing Club



Drawing Club



"Untitled (scroll)," John Lieberman



"Far from Eden," Bruno Lavelle



"Untitled (collage)," Joey Burns



"I'm an Army of One," John Lieberman



Yoga Bots - "Lord of Dance, Locked Gate, Balancing Stick, Wheel, Kukutasawa, Camel," Poor Al



"Landscapers," Tom Torluemke - "Untitled (collage)," Joey Burns



"Nice Object," Hervé Crespel



"Untitled (collage)," Joey Burns



"Timeline," Maura Vazakas



"I Like Fresh Beer Too," John Lieberman



"Composite," Brad Streeper



"Untitled (collage)," Joey Burns



"8 Legs," Tom Torluemke



"Hi," Tom Torluemke



"Gang Raping a Butterfly," Tom Torluemke



"Untitled (collage)," Joey Burns



"Record," Richard Gleaves



"Peace Piece," Régent Pellerin



"Peace Piece," Régent Pellerin



"Peace Piece," Régent Pellerin
Photo: Sandi Hedrich

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Kevin Freitas - "Do Your Clowning Now," 2006 - digital image

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