At the end of January this year, I got an e-mail from Shoe (Niels Meulman) about an ARTE Creative documentary that was being made, which wanted to tell the tale of how the style-writing culture travelled from New York City to Europe, in the beginning of the eighties. He explained to me that the two guys doing it, René Kaestner and Lars Pedersen, who are also known for their I Love Graffiti blog, wanted to be able to interview Bando, myself and him in Amsterdam, and have us also painting a wall for the occasion; so yeah, it sounded good to me, and I was down from the start.
We both got talking to Bando, and tried to work out when would be the best moment between the three of us, and the filming schedule of René and Lars. We finally agreed that the middle of June would be optimal, and made our travel arrangements accordingly. Bando, Shoe and I threw around a couple of different ideas for what we could paint, but in the end we went for the essentials; baby-blue background and silver letters, like the SENSHOEDEEN piece the two of them did with Colt, in Paris, early ’86…
In the meantime, I got talking some more with René and Lars, wanting to know if they had included the UK in the documentary; but it seemed like they had no connections. They had already a fair amount of experience in moving image, operating under the name Red Tower Films; so I thought I’d find out how adaptable they can be.
Given the time when I started out in London, and the names of those who I remember as already existing back then, I thought that they had to try and get over to the UK; so I hooked them up with Pride, hoping that he could get Zaki on board, as they both started before me. There were other names too though, like Snake, Can Man, who had painted the hoardings in Covent Garden in 1984 even before Scribla and myself did; and they had more skills than I did, for sure. It was through an old friend from those days called Ariane that I managed to put René and Lars in touch with Snake; and he might also be helping out with photos, as he has an extensive archive of his own shots from those early days of the Covent Garden scene.
The other writer who had to get a mention was, of course, 3D from Massive Attack. I had always wanted to know how the hell
graffiti ended up in Bristol, because I liked the dude’s letters and his Wild Bunch flyers from the mid-eighties. He also had some paintings in the windows of some agency in Soho, back in ’84, and those also represented a level to aim for. I see myself as being indebted to those who came before me and inspired me, while also seeing it as my duty to transmit the culture to those who came after me in as open and free a format as when I started out; though of course the New York City roots will always represent the foundation of all that came after. There’s no escaping this.
So I got in touch with Steve Lazarides, Bristolian born and bred, and close friend of mine since that time he came over to Paris in February 2002 for a Banksy show at Surface 2 Air, when those guys were based on Rue de l’Arbre Sec. He got 3D to e-mail me, and we got the ball rolling from there. 3D’s manager fixed a date for the film crew to go down to Bristol and interview him on home turf, and we now had an added element to the documentary that would reach a much wider audience; as opposed to being a “writers only” format. So we had some key elements of the beginnings in the UK sorted out, and I was glad I managed to make this happen; not for my own sake, but because the story itself must be told; and I must thank those who agreed to give their time for it. I wanted to get Goldie on board as well, but he’s too busy touring with his Journeyman project since a while. As for how 3D got into it, you’ll have to wait for the documentary to find out…
I found it a little odd that there wasn’t that much done about Paris either, as it truly was the crossroads of Europe in the mid-eighties; but René and Lars explained that there will be another episode in the future, where other countries with early scenes will get their coverage as well. It is difficult for me to imagine the mid-eighties without the likes of Jay, Ash, Skki, or Lokiss… Italy also doesn’t appear this time around, so let’s hope we see what legacy was left by the Arte Di Frontiera event in 1984. I would also guess that Paris does get a mention of sorts, given that it is where Bando, Shoe and I met in July 1985…
Anyway… time slipped by, and soon enough, I found myself on a six and a half hour train-ride to Amsterdam; trying to minimise flying as much as I can, and enjoying the changing landscape, the people getting on and off along the journey, and sketching away or catching up with some reading; namely Le Monde Diplomatique. I arrived in Amsterdam Centraal at 5pm on June 14th, and grabbed the ferry to NDSM Wharf, where Bando and I were booked in at the DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel, along with René and Lars, who were catching the setting sun with their camera-man Aris, as I rolled up with my luggage.
Bando and I had adjoining rooms on the eighth floor, but he was still stuck in a stop-over in Frankfurt; having arrived there from the Dominican Republic that morning. The view was nice from up there, if you could make it out through the security grill on the windows. I guess there are fewer and fewer hotels wishing to take any risks on how mankind has regressed to the levels (depths?) of stupidity that we have to deal with today…
Though Shoe had caught a cold on the flight back from Greece (which reminded me of Miss Van’s flight from Barcelona to Hamburg a few weeks earlier), compounded by hay-fever, he did show up a little after I myself checked in, and we got talking a bit about how we would juggle with outdoor filming and the interviews, along with what the weather report had in store for us. That didn’t go on too long though, because we instead went off on a wide range of
graffiti-related subjects, and about the filming they did in New York and in the UK, until the sun went down, it got cold, the mosquitoes came out; and I was getting really hungry.
Aris had gone to check up on his equipment or something, and we moved indoors and sat at a table, and carried on talking, while Lars went to explain the reason for our moving in to the guy at the bar. Bando finally showed up, acting as usual as if we’d only parted ways the day before; when Shoe and I in fact had not seen him since our one night only group show in Amsterdam on June 27th 2014!
Once again, the conversation drifted from the planning for the next days, to a whole range of other topics from the near or distant past; but we were so much into it that we didn’t check that the waiter had misunderstood that we wanted to eat, then found out that the kitchen was closed… The take-away and delivery options that came up on iamsterdam looked SO grim (the website now seems defunct!) that Bando and I, the only ones who hadn’t yet eaten, opted instead to make do with the Walnusswecke and Studentenfutter that I had packed in my luggage for the trip. It’s actually quite incredible that such a cosmopolitan city as Amsterdam has so few options for decent food after 10pm. Breakfast would be our next meal then…
After the long-awaited breakfast the next morning, Bando and I got our stuff together, as did our hosts, and we walked with Lars over to Shoe’s Unruly studio, with Aris filming us along the way, after fixing me up with a mic; while René drove their people-carrier slowly alongside us. We have no idea what will eventually get used, but they have a hell of an editing job on their hands in August!
We got to see the wall that we were going to paint, along the way, which helped in giving us ideas of where we could go with our sketches…
When we got to the Unruly studios, Shoe was still feeling knocked out from his cold; so he sorted us out with paper to sketch on, and went for another nap, while Aris set up. We got into some sketching, before Bando was first up to be interviewed; so René put the questions to him, while Lars hung in the background to take some shots with an iPhone. They usually roll with an extra photographer, but he had another engagement somewhere; but it all went fine, and I took some shots of my own.
When Bando’s interview was done, and Shoe was back with us, we went down for lunch to a spot nearby that shall remain nameless; as much for security reasons as for the straight out of the freezer crap that they sold as food. We were obviously not having much luck with eating up until then, and Shoe remembered a little too late why he never went to this place…
After “lunch”, we did my interview, which I obviously could not take any photos of, before we called it a day, and retreated back to the hotel. We freshened up, while Aris backed up all the day’s footage; after which René and Lars planned to try and help us all forget lunch (and the fact that Bando and I missed out on dinner the night before!), by making a dash for Pllek, less than a five-minute walk from the hotel.
Though it was looking pretty busy, there was a waitress who actually knew her job, and sorted us out with a table which was probably not the best place, right next to the stairs; but given how crowded the place was, “beggars cannot be choosers”. So we finally sat down and could talk about the day’s work, and have another think about the next. As luck would have it, we had a lot of time to talk, because the food took ages to come. That said, when our patience was beginning to wear dangerously thin, the dishes finally came out; though René had gone outside for a smoke by that point…
It felt so good to be actually eating something so far away from what we had experienced up until then; so peace returned to our table, and the conversation flowed freely, on into the late evening. We then walked back to the hotel, and sat in front of the projected fireplace, chatting over a last digestif (I opted for an alcohol-free beer), while I did a couple of sketches for René and Lars, before we called it a night…
We started off with Shoe’s interview, the next morning, when we got to his studio. We had already seen the paint that was in the back of the people carrier, and had our sketches sorted out from the day before. The reason why I am not posting these is that there will probably be a limited edition print made from them, so you’ll have to make do with what you see on the finished wall. One thing I must say about the interviews I had heard, was to be able to find out more about friends I have known since 1985. Back then we were just too young and caught up in doing our thing, in order to stop and ask ourselves any introspective questions about when we started out, or what scene existed already back then in our respective cities. I was especially curious to find out more about Shoe’s links with Dondi, and Bando’s trips to Amsterdam, after Pride and I had last painted with him in Paris, September 1985. Mutations in his and Shoe’s style really sped up around that time, leading to the letters that he had developed by 1986; the ones that really caught on all over Europe…
Once the interview was done, we headed over to the wall, allowed for Aris to set up, while Shoe and Lars (or was it René?) went off to get a scaffolding tower from the Neef Louis antiques warehouse, who are the owners of the wall. There is a small waterway that runs along the wall, and they had placed beams to span this gap, and screwed plywood boards onto them, so that we had something to stand on. The structure could take our collective weight, along with the equipment, so our only worries were what to paint on the surface that Shoe and his assistant Jerry had primed using a compressor a few days prior.
In order to make filming easier for Aris, we were going to start in turns, with Bando going first. Since Shoe had contacted him about this project, he had been going on and on about being rusty and so on, being fully (and literally) immersed in his cave-diving projects; but all that “stage-fright” was over within minutes, once he had a can in his hand; and the whole process kicked into gear.
Shoe had paced the wall out into our three sections, then had to go and sort something out, while Jerry went to get some snacks and drinks. I therefore had to leave him the space in the middle; trying to allow him as much room as I can, even when I didn’t quite know how squeezed my own one-liner piece would be. With regards to complexity and legibility, I took the long road on this, but I thought that our very different styles complemented themselves well enough. Yes, there’s always a sense of competition somewhere, but it’s more to do with competing against oneself, in order to be able to contribute as best as one can to the whole group wall. Soon enough, there was no time for me to take any more photos, as I knew that my piece would take the longest; so I just got on with it…
It cannot be said enough, but, had it not been for Shoe and the Calligraffiti that he set into motion, there would not have been such a resurgence of lettering in the wider field of “urban art”, which has seen a lot more figurative work this last decade or more, as well as the arrival of artists with an academic background. Calligraffiti has got a lot of youngsters who are maybe not so good in figurative representation to be able to have their voices on the street, complementing the tags that are already there and reigniting the pursuit of style where it had been on the wane. As far as our immediate situation went though, it was simply good to have Shoe around to drop his brush-strokes here and there on the wall; bringing it all together, and keeping it strictly lettering. Bando and him had been trading the appropriate slogans throughout the day.
As we neared the end of the painting, Delta showed up, and it was nice to have another crew member around, as these little reunions are few and far between. The sun had come out before we started taking photos, and a group of youngsters turned up, having checked what was going on, and actually having a clue who these older dudes painting were…
So we took all the shots we needed, packed up all the equipment, then Bando, Shoe, Delta and I went over to have a chat with the guys at the antiques warehouse, which is actually quite a treasure-trove, besides being the place where Shoe found that “thing” with which women used to beat the dust out of the house-rugs.
We then had to move quick, to see what the film-crew needed to pick up at Shoe’s studio, before leaving Delta and Shoe and heading back to the hotel. Strange how things go, as we grow older and have our own projects, priorities, and family-commitments to take care of; that we don’t see the time going by with old friends, or the geographical space that separates us; until we meet at moments such as these, or like when I hung out with Shoe in Los Angeles for Art In The Streets at the MoCA in 2011. The reason I mention this is that Delta pointed out that he himself had in all this time not passed through the Unruly Studios. Go figure…
The restaurant where we were going to eat was near to Shoe’s studio, and Bando and I had stayed in the adjoining guest-house, back in 2014. I think that René and Lars were determined to end the stay on a high note, with regards to how food had been so far. However, before we were going to dinner, we went to visit the Street Art Museum Amsterdam, where we were given a private tour by its curator, Peter Ernst Coolen. We all met up outside of our hotel (Shoe and Delta having coming over on their bikes), and went on to have a look at a vast space (you can see on the link), with lots of huge paintings hanging everywhere; many being from Latin or South American artists, some from Eastern European or Russian maybe, but a LOT of figurative or photorealistic imagery that just felt a world away from our own universe.
René and Lars had initially planned for us to paint there, but Shoe suggested, and rightly so, that we were not comfortable being associated with any cultural structure that wasn’t our own; but Peter came to the wall to watch us paint, and we graciously took up his invitation to have a look at what he had been working on, and hear his story.
Writing is what brought Bando, Delta, Shoe and I (as well as Lars and René!) to the place where we were standing at that place and time; and writing is basically what mainly interests me in the street. It is based on A-B-C-D, and therefore gives access to anybody who can write, regardless of any art education; and all you need is some form of marking implement that is either improvised, stolen, or eventually bought; but it was traditionally stolen.
What you also needed of course was the drive and the nerve to want to write your new-found name wherever you went, applying whatever style you wished to it; though generations of New York City writers had churned countless possibilities around, and a slew of different styles became the common foundation for all tags and throw-ups. Innovating and finding new variations with as much swing and flavour was the challenge set to future generations; but it is only by continuous research into the past that you may just find that your own innovation had been done by some near-anonymous writer years before; somebody who didn’t make it to Subway Art, Spraycan Art, or any of the books that came out these last years.
It’s a case of live and let live on the urban art scene for me; but I don’t want to hear anybody talking or writing stuff as if to say that what is happening today would have happened anyway. It is writing that made generations of youngsters want to put their names as high up on buildings as they could, as far down in the tunnels or on the bridges, in building hallways or on pavement level store shutters, bollards, fire-hydrants, post-boxes and so on; and all over the inside and outside of public transport rolling stock.
The artistic relationship that the youth of today have with the architecture and urbanism that surrounds them would never have developed to such a depth, had it not been for writing. So let’s give credit and respect where it is due, and put all of today’s happenings into their proper historical and cultural context.
So we evidently turned down the offer to be part of the museum (I think it was I who had to diplomatically break down it to Peter), as it would dilute our work, to some extent, by mixing it up with unrelated art-forms, and artists who have no idea from where what they are doing actually came from. There are other eventual exhibition spaces and events better suited to our culture which have not even been thought of yet, because we had too many bullshit jams and bullshit fanzines in the mid to late nineties to muddy the waters.
Anyway… With that behind us, it was off to the Cafe Modern, where Shoe had booked a table for us, and Peter would be joining us a little later. It was way easier to get there by bike, because of roadworks that were sending us into a long one-way diversion; but we eventually got there, to find Shoe and Delta already chilling at the large round table near the main entrance. Delta got busy with René or Lars’ book, while Shoe wandered off after a bit to check the place out. He pointed out that Cafe Modern had changed since he was last there, and was rather irritated, wondering if this meant the end of a dining experience that he had always enjoyed, along with the hospitality that was habitually afforded to him; namely a table and a glass of chilled white wine when he would walk in. That said, the four of us CTK guys were just happy to hang, while we traded stories with the film crew, and later talked at length about different
graffiti-related issues of today and yesteryear.
To Shoe’s relief, familiar faces that he knew from the restaurant finally showed up from the kitchen, and things started to roll right… well; almost right, for me. I had stopped drinking alcohol since January 2016, and I tend to dread that moment when I have to ask what alcohol-free beers are available. Jever Fun is absolutely NO fun whatsoever; so I knew what was in store for me beverage-wise for the evening. The others had no such issues to worry about drinks-wise, as the snacks and then the dishes started showing up;
I guess that the food alone at Cafe Modern made up for our first night (when we didn’t eat), our first lunch (like, what was THAT?!), and the long wait at Pllek the previous evening. It was incredible to think that so much had gone on in such little time, but the filming was over, the interviews done, and René, Lars and Aris could finally relax just a little.
Given the fact that Peter Ernst Coolen was also with us, the conversation had wandered to what Urban Nation, another “urban art museum”, was doing to Berlin; pretending to be supporting “street art”, when in fact it had hardly any contact with any Berlin artists or activists from the scene. I mentioned how it was also a pity that Carlo McCormick and Martha Cooper had also been taken on board by this rather dubious organisation, giving it a sense of credibility, while the international artists they invited to paint added another layer of legitimacy to what amounted to cultural Neo-colonialism in my book. I know, I’m a little opinionated, but I can’t let fraud slip in front of my eyes like that. It’s a pity that we stopped vetting “outsiders” to our culture when they would show up on the scene, like we used to back in the days; whether they were journalists, curators, collectors, or whatever.
We moved on to wondering about the next day, and finally left the restaurant, at which point Delta and Peter made their way off home, and Shoe stayed behind to find out what changes had been going on at Cafe Modern since he had last been there. The rest of us went back to the hotel, and planned to meet at breakfast, as they were all leaving the next day, apart from me.
René and Lars had wanted to paint, having finally got all they needed done on this trip, so I found out that they had already been out in the morning, using the remaining silver across a couple of the containers outside the Street Art Museum next to the hotel. Lars was still waiting for some friends from Melbourne to show up, before they would paint along the side of the “museum” building.
It was time to say goodbye to Bando however, though it seemed pretty much certain that we would come back again in 2018, probably with Delta joining us, and have fun painting together once again. René and Aris were off to the jam in Eindhoven, and Lars’ flight would be in the early evening.
I went back to the my hotel-room, and waited on Shoe to give me a shout, as I had assumed that he would have had a late one at Cafe Modern. Well… he forgot that we were supposed to meet and go to the art store, because when I eventually called, I found out that he had gone and got stretcher-frames for the two paintings that had been drying on the floor of his studio, while we were doing the interviews.
So I walked back over to Unruly, as I also had to pick up some art materials I had brought over, in case we were going to make some works on paper for the on-line gallery. The filming schedule had dictated otherwise though. I took some photos along the way, and checked up on our finished piece as well.
Getting to Shoe’s studio, I found him stretching those two paintings, and we planned to go to lunch, after dropping the paintings off at Galerie Gabriel Rolt, for a show that was going to open a week or so later. I got all my stuff together, then off we went; first to check out Paul du Bois-Reymond’s show of pencil works on paper at A Juan Project, called All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, then to drop those two paintings off, before looking for somewhere that serves food after 2pm…
Once again, things were looking pretty grim around the corner from the gallery, but we somehow stumbled upon a place that was looking pretty empty, but they were serving; Fa. Pekelhaaring felt like a Bingo! moment;
I checked the time, and it then seemed almost impossible that we were going to make it to Peter van Ginkel; the only art-store still open, though we only had about twenty minutes before the 6pm closing. So Shoe was going to give it his best shot…
Whenever I travel, I like to visit art-stores; the older and more traditional they are, the better. I primarily look for different types of drawing and aquarelle paper that I don’t already have; the material that’s easy to take back home and to the studio. Shoe showed me some of the type of paper that Paul du Bois-Reymond uses, though I didn’t find some of the rougher and heavier ones that I had seen at his show a little earlier. We had only got there about seven minutes before closing, so I was rushing up and down the aisle where the shelves carrying the paper are, and I had to make quick decisions. I eventually walked out with fifteen sheets of paper the richer and € 104,18 poorer!
I gave Delta a call, as we finally sat back in Shoe’s car, and he told us that he was still working, doing some graphics in the stairwell of a new office development a little way away from the art store. I had felt pretty bad for missing Delta’s A Friendly Takeover show in Brussels, as I had family-commitments that I simply could not walk away from in time to catch his show.
Though I met Delta a little later than Bando and Shoe, I had ended up hanging out a lot more with him in the 1990s, and the huge difference in everything that we’re about made for a lot of complementarity as well. He was the one who suggested to me that I should try using pastels, so a great deal of my indoor work in the last twenty years has been influenced by that little suggestion alone. So yeah; there was enough time to catch him, and Shoe was also up for driving out there…
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon outside, but super warm in the stairwell; and Delta and his assistant had to get this all finished before the offices opened again the following Monday. They had the skylight open, through which you could feel the hot escaping from the space below.
Shoe and I also checked out the terrace, from which there was a lovely view on the canal below, and people enjoying the early summer. I won’t go too deep into my thoughts about the eventual rising of sea-levels, due to the climatic changes that our planet is going through; but these beautiful moments in our busy lives must be cherished for all that they have to offer. Enjoy them while they last…
It was time to call it a day, to say goodbye to Delta, his assistant, and for Shoe and me to go back into the city, driving back past the Citroën 2cv specialist’s collection we saw on our way in, then through what had seemed like a park with lots of trees on either side. I had asked Shoe on the way there where would be the oldest and least touched part of Dutch countryside to be found; as it is a small country, and the proximity of everything doesn’t seem to allow for wilderness. He mentioned something about a national park, which I think must mean the Veluwe. There’s apparently also a museum there that is worth a visit. I would like to check it all out one day, maybe on the next trip that we had promised to each other, to paint again with Bando and Delta; and why not get a couple more of the Dutch CTK contingent on board?
Niels dropped me back off at the DoubleTree hotel, after what felt like a full day, and I guess I am only thanking him right now.
The evening meal at Brooklyn, the hotel restaurant, was really nothing to write home about; supposedly a truffle gnocchi that was nowhere near hitting the mark. I guess that our afternoon lunch and the night before at Cafe Modern would anyway never have been topped. I let the waiter know about the blandness of the meal, for which he thanked me, so that he could pass on my feedback to whoever would actually do something to improve on what got served. That wouldn’t be too hard to do, should they actually bother.
I checked out of the hotel the next day, went to the where the ferry docked, and realised that the next one would be in about half an hour. Given the sun and the heat, I went back to chill in the hotel-lobby, until it was time to roll again, grab the ferry back to Amsterdam Centraal, and wave goodbye to what had been some fun days with some old friends, courtesy of René and Lars, along with Aris, the “camera-guy”. They will be editing throughout August, and we should be seeing the end result on ARTE in September. There might even be an event thrown for the launch in Paris.
Thank you for reading, if you got this far. I don’t do short story-telling much, even if it was just three and a half days in Amsterdam; but I also want to make sure that what really went down is actually written somewhere, before some opportunists start claiming that it went otherwise.
Until next time…
wow man! you really put in so much effort! great wall! the foto’s off the food are things i do not understand but hey :) you’re french :)
If we don’t eat, we starve and we die. If we are not careful about what we eat, we can either get sick, or we are not realising the environmental impact of the production of what we eat.
Also, I treat going out to eat like going out to a party somewhere. It doesn’t matter how the place looks; if whoever are in the kitchen respect the food, the customers, and the hygiene; and if they have a passion to make you discover different flavours, fragrances, and go to an effort to make it already look appetising to the eye, you have to respect the passion and the effort that these people go to; or else you could go to any fast-food place and put something down you that you can’t trace back to where it was grown or raised.
The same goes for music. If you are not as picky about what is going in through your ears, and are just looking fro “background music” as an accessory to your drinking, drug-taking, or whatever non-music-related reasons you’re going out for; that’s also your business.
For the same price, I would rather be more discerning and demanding, and give my money to somebody who’s as passionate about music as I am about food, or about carpentry, dentistry, or whatever occupation somebody chooses in their lives.
There is no hierarchy in the different crafts (butcher, baker, plumber, accountant even…) that people choose to do. As long as there’s passion, I can relate to it, be inspired by it; and it may even influence my approach to what I’ve been doing for years.
I guess it’s just a question of priorities, and some people are more (or less) demanding than others. Still… there’s a whole load of poor quality shit out there that we (or the environment for that matter) wouldn’t have to be putting up with, if we were all a bit more selective with
regards to quality; and this doesn’t necessarily mean more expensive…
Enjoy your weekend, and watch what you eat…
you are fucking clever in your food selection ..
Thankyou, to merely get a glimpse of the light between the negative spaces of you guys together again is indeed a rare and special treat, let alone hearing of your golden histories, until next time.
Love the story, allways a plessure to see Kings rockin a Wall.
Great to see you guys back together again! Always inspiring…
We’ve never really been apart; just getting on with whatever we have to in life, and following the passions that drive us personally. We’re not in Paris in 1985 anymore, but I get what you’re trying to say…
Peace Mode2 . Great story! “I don’t do short story-telling much…” Well I think many outthere like the detailed story of the 3,5 days event, your thoughts on “urban art” etc. I used to work with Rene years ago, ca.2004-2007 when I was involved with his Write4Gold events. One time I travelled to Berlin by a van, with a bunch of friends. We were involved with the World Beatbox Championship by Beelow/History. At our first night we were pulled over by the police for a routine check. I was not suppossed to get out of the van but did not follow up that instruction, playing the def dumb Dutch tourist. Another car from Chemnitz was pulled over by ghe police and had to park next to our van. Who stepped out of that car: Rene. Reunion!!! It is a small world. Well as you can see I like anecdotes myself lol. Peace out, one luv from Holland.
There are a few other “stories” on this blog, but they take me a while to write, to collect the relevant images, optimise them and so on.
Most people don’t take the time to read the others, and don’t check the links to interviews at the end of some of them; like the Préludes… show in Paris last November. These are often the same people who hang more onto gossip, hear-say and mythology than what really happened and when. Some even accuse me of being too stand-offish, when I would also like to have my own private space, while I choose to open up a lot through what I write, or when I used to do all these live performances. I do a lot less of those now.
When you find the time, check some of the other posts out. It’s just a pity that I am way too busy most of the time, to be able to do the write-ups of all the different projects that I do. What usually happens is that when I finally get home, I have very little time to reorganise for the next project.
One day, I would like to tell the story behind the “Bridges Of Graffiti” exhibition that I co-curated with Giorgio de Mitri for the Venice Biennale of 2015…
Peace Ahki Mode2,
A joy to read from start to finish with everything explained and understood. I’m glad that you have taken the time to write indepth about the whole trip as it is something that is missed out in past sessions. Only those who are privileged to hold conversation would be blessed with the whole story. The food is a narrative to the events described is something we can all relate to (also spot on when remembering events, we remember the bad/bland food too).
Thank you for sharing this with us.
Blessings to 3 Kings,
Ahki Peace, Tufkut,
I’ve met so many people on jams or exhibitions, who only want a tag in their black books, or to have their photos taken with me; but they don’t want to actually TALK. They are just out hunting for “trophies”…
Our collective culture is a participative one, not a spectator sport. We were inspired by those who came before us, and we wish to inspire those who come after us; not have them as fans, but as equals somehow. Everybody has something to offer, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be in one of the disciplines. I’ve always tried to reach out to the universality that is common to all humankind, because we have much to learn from those outside of our culture as well; as used to be more the case in earlier times, when we were borrowing from everywhere in order to make something new.
At some point in the early nineties, in the days of “Represent” and “Keep It Real”, we started to become way too self-important and looking inwards instead of outwards; on some “back to ghetto” mentality that is pretty much the antithesis of this culture’s origins…
Hello, year 90 is the year of my birth!
In fact I am here and I think and I am sure that I am not the only one who is confined somewhere in the world, I do not know when this nightmare will end! However, I wanted to ask you if this site https://www.rachat-de-credit-simulation.com/regroupement-de-pret is it reliable
Some letters (a tag) on a wall, a painting on a train, a psuedo identity scratched vindictivly onto a glass window by a kid with a drill bit or a small sharp stone! Graffiti? (for lack of a better title) it will always amount to ‘nothing special’ without its story! The story of the day’s painting, the story of ‘the trip’, the story of a crew’s history or that of a country or even a continent (in this case Europe) and the over-riding story of where all this came from in the first place! Without all (or at least some) of that what value is there in what we do? What meaning does it have? What is its point/what’s its purpose? …………… The part of a graffiti story, where people are doing the ‘actual spray-painting’ is sometimes the least interesting. It is the gel that brings ‘the show’ together, but what’s really interesting is: The actors, how they interact with each other, the stage on which they prance, the journey that brought them to this point, the passage that brought this artform to this continent and the history that lies behind everything that any of us do as participants in this wonderful movement and culture. Some may dwell on the bad food choices that Amsterdam offers at night, whilst others will be killing themselves that they were not personally present ‘black book in hand’ as this most regal of line ups unfolded. There are those who will die a little inside at the mere thought of a truffle enfused pasta sauce misscrafted and turned blanned by barbarian hands & there’s others who will demand to know why you didn’t paint any pregnant women or B-Boy characters, but they miss the point – they really do!
I think us graffiti writers we’re not naturally great sharers. We tend to coveth things and suffocate them with preciocity. I think its hard for us to open up and give some things away. Giving away little pieces of ourselves, of our stories and in essence of our lives can be hard and it’s not something we’re naturally inclined to do. Thank you for this sharing!
Roadtrip to Munchen 1991. Never forget ;)
Yes! A legendary trip! Never forgotten! …. Amsterdam, Utrecht, Nijmegan & PFB (London) on tour! ✊
Thanks for your, as per usual, wonderful insight, Drax.
I think that those writers who are deeply involved are not wanting to share much anyway, and I don’t blame them for it, given the amount of gossip-mongers and trainspotters that we have had for so many years. You have to be really selective about who you talk to, and about what. That said, there are so many beautiful yet fleeting moments that pass us by every day, that we could talk about those alone, and put them into context with some of the bullshit that we are going through.
I remember the mid nineties, when there were all these bullshit jams that a certain few of us were getting constantly invited to, but where they would also invite loads of other people, and the budget would be spread super-thin. The youth hostels or cheap hotels or somebody’s house was shit for a lot of the time, but we just sort of put up with it; but I couldn’t really handle that kind of proximity with loads of people just going on and on about “graffiti”. It felt like a scouts’ summer camp; and was of course LIGHT YEARS AWAY from what some low-key dudes would come up and offer as some other more adrenaline-driven night-time distractions.
I always tried (too hard maybe) to deliver on the jams, and was usually first at the wall to start, and last to finish; but I tried to make an abstraction of all the bullshit around me. It was like all those fanzines asking the same questions in the interviews, and the “Do you have a good chase story?” bit at the end. The really good fanzines could be counted on one hand; Bomber, Fat Cap, Underground Productions, Overkill, Backjumps.
As for food, I remember being with Delta in Brussels in ’95, saw a small wine-shop, and went to ask the owner where he knew some good addresses. I always had a method to get away from the crowd, because it was not conducive to any good debate. Too many people on some Tower of Babel cacophony; like a whole tree-load of starlings coming in to roost at sunset.
As you say, the act of painting cannot be talked about. It’s like Crazy Legs trying to describe how he invented the backspin in Style Wars. All the pleasure of painting, whatever the conditions, has been used up in the act of painting; same with dance, or playing music live. I prefer to talk about all the “normal” things that make every day a little special, if our heads are not too locked in on our mobile screens.
I like your long threads on FB for the same reason, trying to tap into the universal bit of humanity that makes us all the same somewhere; except that we try to do our own little thing in whichever way we can, hoping that others will take this as their cue to do their own thing too… as opposed to standing there and watching or commenting from the sidelines. It was always about participation, and having a mouth big enough that you’re not too scared of giving your own opinion. If somebody proves you wrong, at least you’ll learn more than just a bit of humility… ;-)
A bunch of heads want tags in their black books that you can do blind-folded, or they want to have their photos taken with you, and then they just piss off, and are not even interested in talking… OK, so I’m not advocating chatting any old crap, but there is so much to share and so much to learn… so thanks again for your insight, “old friend” :-)
“Jerry went to get some snacks and drinks”
Not just a namefellow thing – but when you come over to visit Holland next time i would be pleased to get you all some snacks and drinks ;)
Thank you for sharing this great inside story about some truly passionate artists (although i prefer to call you all pioneers) who not only inspired me but so many others as well back in the days, and also nowadays. So therefore my deepest respect.
I’m really looking forward to the end result of the documentary.
Is that you, Jerry? You had some fresh new gear on too, and you got paint on it! Now THAT’s dedication ;-)
Thanks also for loading those lids full of liquid spray for Niels.
I had run the text by Niels and Bando first, and he reminded me your name, because I had mentioned that you had helped with priming the wall, but was a bit info-overloaded to remember your name.
Thanks again for being there, then :-)
you are fucking clever in your food selection ..
I am just fussy about what I eat; but this doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be expensive. All you need is to be able to feel that somebody went to some effort to go and buy the fresh produce, and put even more effort into doing something nice with; whether simple or a little more complex.
You can apply this kind of approach to any form of employment, trade, or craft that anybody would wish to follow.
Back to food though, I would rather fast (not eating) than eat bad food. There’s alway tomorrow, and I’d rather spend money somewhere that’s worth it…
It is so inspiring to read stories of not only one legend but a legend writing about legends. Growing up and getting down with graffiti in the 80s as I was that small boy from Sheffield being shown Spraycan art for the very first time and obviously while checking out the UK section it was like a nuclear bomb had exploded inside my head, the feeling of looking at a young Mode2 next to what could only be described as some of the freshest characters ever drew me further into the culture of which I am still proud to be involved with 30+ years after the fact.Although we have never met I would truly like to thank you for such inspiration and happy memories. Respect due
Lovely inspiring story ;) and many thanks for your influences. It was a great honour to meet you in person on the NDSM. Never stop !! and stay healthy.
Another defining moment for the CTK legends. Your blog is so interesting – the art, the passion, and the pictures of those meals. It’s so important to document the event which will also prolong the memory. Keep going Mode !
Really raw and explicit piece you do on this wall! love the crossing outline! Great stylewriting!
I read the article a few weeks ago and just come back to read it again before posting an interview of René for the film serie. between the main course and dessert,feel free to take a look at this article : http://www.lectrics.fr/blog/interview-with-the-director-of-the-rise-of-graffiti-writing-from-new-york-tu-europe/
This is a good article because there are many tips and also many advices that will be very useful for me.
He is a great artist and i like his art!
This is art!!!
Bonjour dès Valencia, en Espagne. Nous atttendons avec hate, ton retour pour nous laisser un mur pour flipper comme la dèrniere fois, ou bien comme quand on était gosse et on voyai le fanzine de PSOE ou le PARIS TONKAR que notre pote de Alicante FAT, avait ramener de son voyage á Paris en 91.
un saludo de otro francés !!!.
Hip-Hop Never don’t Stop!!!
p.s.: 40 ans á Valence me permettent de faire quelques fautes ….
Living Legends. Great artwork, great artists. Love it.
Oh man! Back in the 90s you were one of the most important inspiration for graffiti artists like me and at the same time totally eclipsed by more vocal Parisian hip hop artists so what a surprise to find your blog, partially thanks to the Arte documentary.
Finally we can hear the full story and get to know a lot better. Thanks for taking the time to share all those amazing stories and restaurants recommendations! ;-)
Ah and I just moved to Montpellier so it was a big surprise to find your name on a massive mural here on my way to work!
Hi Crime Time Kingz
Your TCA work in Paris was much better.
The West Country
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i was reading this Гидра
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