Pretentious Artspeak For Juvenile Graffiti
Pompous artist statements for childish vandalism.
[Published first at Little Old Lady Comedy]
A drawing of a penis in a bar bathroom
This optical suggestion of nudity exhibits simplistic controversy, yet emphasizes the complex sexual dynamics of modern manhood and contemporary men’s grappling with our rapidly changing gender relations. Its indulgent utilization of negative space serves as a charged critique of toxic masculinity, while the enlarged “choad” head satirizes self-conscious anxieties of virility. This work’s communal accessibility above a working urinal invites viewers to relieve themselves and juxtapose their own genitals to this two-dimensional phallus, and its application in a real bar bathroom is rich in ambiguous interpretations. Does this incognito genital represent a drunk #MeToo offender at the bar, or is it an expression of impotent frustration of someone going home alone when the lights turn on following the bartender’s announcing of last-call? A “fuckboy” about to manipulate his way into a booty call, or an incel? A man childishly proclaiming his peripheral existence in a superficial, digital world with a crude mark in an old-fashioned, analog medium? This is a work of numerous dualities.
“Derek wuz here” on a dumpster
A transient record of physical location, despite a conspicuous absence of pinpointed time, means transitory mobility itself is the salient artistic achievement here. Delinquent writing on public property is a crime, so the piece investigates the practicality, as well as flair, of anonymity. An identity is tagged, but still unrecognized with no surname or other identifying specificity. Who is Derek? The name could refer to the artist, an alter ego, a purely fictional character, or perhaps a deliberate misdirection and framing of the artist’s enemy. Whoever Derek is, the playful misspelling suggests a wealth of editorial commentaries from the linguistic pretensions of academic elites ignoring and discriminating against the vibrant dialectology of America’s underclasses to the decay of the public school system. The personal and collective collide in this monument to a brief moment of Derek’s sojourn through life, and craves further elucidation. How long did Derek stay? Where is Derek now? This opus asks many more questions than it answers.
“BITCH” etched on a street bench
An exclamation of the patriarchy visually harassing nearby pedestrians, this abrasive masterpiece in all capital letters doesn’t ask for permission to grope your attention. Its presence near a bus stop makes this work both exhibitionist at and voyeuristic of the hourly female transit riders getting on and off the public bus. With letters carved by knife, even this piece’s application on the medium of communal bench wood is aggressive and violent, though the art is environmentally wry considering both the suburban town’s low crime rate and the piece’s known female creator. One of many similar works by the artist in a series always located near traditionally women-centered businesses like hair and nail salons, its repetition has evolved and matured into a tour de force of feminist empowerment flipping a traditionally derogatory term for use as a call to action toward solidarity in sisterhood instead.
Cuss words carved into a public school desk
Playfully deconstructing the dynamics of the teacher-student hierarchy in middle school education with vandalistic defacement, this collage of pubescent protest and disobedience is compellingly nostalgic. Featuring classic foul-mouthed words such as “cock,” “schlong,” “cunt,” “vag” and “pussy,” this piece faithfully captures a naughty aesthetic of public school Americana. Embracing the universal spirit and soul of teenage rebellion, this work is profane for profanity’s sake. With mindfully curated obscenity, it is neither specifically derogatory nor hatefully bigoted, and is instead merely anatomical with a charming innocence that is surprisingly refreshing. It is a celebration of carnal juvenility that reorients the post-modern deconstructions of gender inequalities toward an apolitical, neo-Romantic exploration into the human sexuality of burgeoning teenage puberty.
“Sorry about your wall” spray painted on a government building
This preemptive apology is a vandal’s paradox and witty meta-statement, a puckish joke winking at the illicit circumstances of its own creation. Cursing the piece with the original sin of misdemeanor defacement, Biblical allusions are inevitable. Existentially profound, this sentence, like us, has been thrust into being, and we viewers are forced to intellectually grapple with its extemporaneous essence, and therefore our own. This accomplishment of guerrilla urbanity is, as Jean-Paul Sartre proclaimed, “condemned to be free.” There was a blank city wall, and now there is a repentant message on it, for better or for worse. The reaction by municipal authorities to this vandalism becomes a part of the artistic expression, and it fascinatingly invites its own censorship by governmental employees likely to scrub it off or paint over it. As such, this piece is a Gesamtkunstwerk of the civic interface between bureaucracy, citizenship, and legalism. But it is a simultaneous brilliant experiment in forgiveness and exoneration. Should the artist be forgiven, and would amnesty be just? Is the narrator reliable, and can the creator’s remorse be believed? The painter’s apologetic motivations are a psychological puzzle, but a purely textual analysis leaves us simply with an observation of guilt embodying Sartre’s maxim that “we do not know what we want, and, yet we are responsible for what we are.” This apology is an ontological triumph. 🥃
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