The Soul of Street Art

It’s hard to decide which side is more annoying in the recent furor over subway graffiti, art and New York’s bad old days.

On the one side, you have Mark Echo, a former graffiti artist and current clothing designer and mini-mogul. Echo recently held a ‘graffiti party,’ in which a couple dozen artists tagged up a totally fake-looking cardboard facade of a subway car, in a supposed celebration of the street art and hip hop that sprang out of City Hall’s abandonment of black and latino neighborhoods during the fiscal crisis in the 70’s. In reality, Echo is repackaging and commodifying that old youth rebellion in order to relive a bit of his youth and, well, to sell a bunch of clothes and stuff. All youth rebellion eventually gets coopted, but it’s far worse when it is self-inflicted, even if delayed.

On the other side is Mayor Mike, and the city papers’ editorial writers who bray about Mark Echo glorifying New York’s bad old days, as if the graffiti in the 70’s caused the trains to break down, the subway fare to increase, the crime rate to rise, rather than simply bringing some much needed color and vitality to a grey and crumbling city. They sound like the bunch of puritanical middle class elitists that they are.

Today, subways and buses are completely covered by corporate advertisements. Why is this not viewed as ugly vandalism? It’s pervasive and distracting, but it pays the bills, so it’s okay, apparently.

I was riding the 7 train into Manhattan the other day, which I never do (I’m an E, F guy; J if I’m going to Brooklyn), and I was awestruck after 45 Courthouse Rd – just before entering the tunnel. There, for about two city blocks, is a glorious collage of colorful, funny, sad, inventive murals and tags. It’s all over the roof-tops, the sides of buildings, the alley ways and the streets themselves. It’s clearly the product of many competing artists vying for the eyes of 7 train rides. They are courting us, entertaining us, enlightening us. And, best of all, they’re not trying to sell us a fucking thing.