All stressed up and no place to go? We went to the fair last week. Look at the dust in here, did I tell you about the time that painter had a hissyfit at the gallery because… Nah, we’ll save that one for the book, the tell all book, not the black book of artists we won’t be working with again, the tell all book that blows the lid on it all, the artists, the bands, that time with …no, never mind that, Bad Breeding have some tour dates, latest news here, Bad Breeding are a breath of old school punk rock fresh air, we have said this before of course and we’re happy to say it here again
The trouble with so-called street art is that, at times, we all have to endure it. Galleries on the whole are curated spaces that we only go in to if we choose to, but those walls on the way to the railway station? We really have no choice. There’s some dreadful street art going up in East London right now, the churners who see fit to impose their poor black line and one trick pony same painting as last time and the time before that (and the one before that) on us all. Of course there some inspired art, some exciting street art, the streets are alive with excitement and colour, alive with form and shape and paste and more, but there are one or two who really do just churn it out by numbers. Six out of ten efforts painted on automatic pilot at best, same thing repeated on shop shutters and railway arch walls again and again (and again) like that kid who learned to draw just one thing efficiently well at school and never ever dared to draw anything else in case he couldn’t. Sure, there’s trademarks and such, the delight of a stick figure, a letter form, a monkey head, an owl, a golden peg up high, nothing wrong with any of that and nothing wrong with pop art repetition and some Ben Eine style graphic colour either – his shop shutters were inspired back there back in the day. Someone has to say it though, there’s some rather bad street art being forced on to people right now, there’s a couple of particularly bad pieces of blight appeared right outside the front door here, pieces that I’m now forced to look at almost everyday, right there and impossible to avoid, saw one of the offenders turn up the other morning and pull a box of Belton out of the back of his car, hearts sank, oh no, he’s not going ot paint right outside is he? Came back later that day and there it was, and around the corner another piece of work in progress, painted up there on a another wall controlled by the self-appointed street art police. Who appointed these controllers of walls? Most of them don’t seem to have much of a clue about anything much with their talk of people “smashing it” and this being “the bomb dude” and such – bad art imposed on walls controlled by people who have very little idea about art or indeed anything else. It all feels like the days of second division thrash metal bands cluttering up small London venues churning out second rate copies of something vaguely like the big bands without ever understanding the essence of the magic those original groundbreaking bands had. metal by numbers, guitar riffs by numbers, street art by numbers…
Just what is that painfully bad abomination over there on that beautiful black brick wall (that’s been there untouched for years and years) all about? Why is it there imposing itself on us all? And why do the street art police allow the same damn artist to paint on every wall they seem to somehow control anyway? Same six out of ten second rate street art inflicted on us by the clueless controllers who tell us what “the bomb” is or who’s “smashing it mate”. I love the energy and layers of evolution down on Clare Street at the moment, street art is exciting when it evolves quickly and layers grow on layers, or over in the much loved Leake Tunnel where things change almost on the hour, or that wall over by Brick Lane where all the estate agents boards and the corporate fizzy pop adverts are cluttering up the eye line anyway, but these things inflicted on us, forced on us, all these six out of ten London street artists who, incidentally, are “dropping a limited edition print release next Thursday night.
Why are these “artists” who figured out one trick that might have looked good in a graphic novel or on the record sleeve of a second division thrash metal band in 1988 inflicted on every wall ever? Why are imposed on us ten foot high on a beautiful black brick walls? Walls that have stood untouched and beautiful for a hundred and fifty years, Why are they yelling at us in their uncoordinated colour-clashing way or a main street shop front we have to pass every blighted day. Really am going to have to change my route to the station now, there’s already bus rides where I have to bury my head in a sketchbook at certain points to avoid the encounter with the bad street art and the bad seeds it plants deep in my head for the rest of day (SW)
those Bad Breeding tour dates then….