Buff Monster

Well over one year after ‘Isolation’ started his vandalism spree and a stack of months after he got busted we have yet to see the states spend his £2000 fine on a £20 pot of paint and actually get rid of the eyesore that he called art around our island. Graffiti breed’s graffiti, if you want it to disappear for good you need to paint it out straight away. Fact.

Most would argue that graffiti removal is at best the elimination of vandalism or at worst the destruction of art, right? My attention was recently drawn towards an award-winning film that argues something quite different: that graffiti removal is the ultimate next step in the progression of modern art. The Subconscious Art of Graffiti Removal by Matt McCormick overtly follows the dull task of removing graffiti from public property (or, as it is known in the trade "buffing," or "getting buffed") and analyzes the resulting patchworks of paint. Despite its semi-satirical intent, complete with heady art-school voice-over ruminations about this potential art movement, the film raises many provocative questions and is an oddly compelling look at what might be the most overlooked art of our time.

Yes, you read that right. There is a sort of tongue-in-cheek humour that permeates throughout the film, as the female voice-over describes this activity as being "one of the more intriguing and important art movements of the early 21st century." And just as art movements have roots for their state-of-being, she even goes so far as to say that this art movement's roots stem from abstract expressionism, minimalism, and Russian constructivism. We hear the names of Rothko, Rauschenberg, and Malevich mentioned as their work exhibits stylizations that the "graffiti removal artists" are perhaps referencing. And I can definitely see why. A closer look at the film reveals some surprising and strange realities regarding the art of graffiti removal. The following painting is by Rothko, and you can see how the use of abstract but organized shapes evoke the same sense of this deliberate painting-over that the subconscious artists do in the second image:



This is not to say that these subconscious artists are on the same level as Rothko. It's all about the intent.



Continuing on this academic bent, McCormick takes it a step further and designates three separate methods utilized by graffiti removal artists:

1. Symmetrical: producing identifiable shapes in a series of squares and rectangles.

2. Ghosting: painting over the tag by basically following the lines, whereby the original artwork can still be seen.

3. Radical: where the "artist" uses neither geometry nor the original tag as guidelines.

At this point I think I did actually piss myself just a little bit. It really is kinda funny to suggest that there could be art scholars out there that take the time to analyze, deconstruct and critique work done by buffers, most of whom are completely unaware that what they're doing is being considered "art." It sounds a bit absurd, doesn't it?

I sure did dig it, though. For me, it was the notion that this film dared to be taken very seriously, outlining strong points and showcasing excellent photography, all the while giving you that subtle wink that seems to say, "yeah, we know this sounds crazy, but we're having fun with it." I would even go so far as to say that Matt McCormick & Co. were poking fun at the Avant-garde art community as a whole. And I love that. The result? A surprisingly convincing argument for graffiti removal as art, though reminiscent of humorous art-world spoofs such as animal art or child art being passed off as masterpieces.

Genius.

By the end of the film, they had me really thinking about all this. The idea that this "subconscious art" could be actually taken seriously raises some interesting questions:

Is it really art if the creator is not aware of it?

To these "removal artists," what they were doing was WORK. They were not thinking in creative terms. They just picked out the paint, the rollers, and did their thing. In fact, in the film, the filmmakers mention that there had to be some creative process going on, as the workers had to pick and choose which gallon of paint to use, and how to paint over the graffiti. But the big difference is that these workers were not making these choices with the knowledge of having an end result (aside from the fact of getting the job done). Is it necessary for the artist to knowingly benefit from the process?

Who really designates what "art" is, anyway? Artist or viewer?

This is all subjective, as all art is, of course, because most will not agree that this activity would even be considered art.

During the film I was reminded about Barry McGee AKA Twist who has been documenting buffed walls for years now and this has actually started to feature in his gallery paintings.


During the late 90’s ESPO (Exterior Surface Painting Outreach) AKA Stephen Powers established a new middle ground between vandalism and community, painting that could be classed as either graffiti or legit beautification. During daylight hours dressed in a fluro jacket he would roller paint the corrugated roll down gates on stores covering up the graffiti covered surfaces like a neighbourhood task force. Up close these walls looked clean and it wasn’t until you crossed the street and saw ESPO in giant letters that you knew something was not quite right. Amidst the relentless crackdown on minor crimes in NYC ESPO throw a spanner in the works and by doing so by passed the eagle eyes of the NYPD…



...For a little while at least. ESPO gained some serious fame for painting nearly 100 gates around NYC, many of which have not been tagged over to this day.

A couple years later ESPO moved to LA for a couple of months and joined a legit community graffiti buff squad. He proceeded to paint about 50 of these in some prime LA spots in broad daylight with the LAPD rolling past.

Genius.

Just goes to show the ‘buff’ can be art after all.