post by repete
there’s something a bit tragic about tagging, the thought of a whole subculture of people with no better way to make a mark on the world than to scrawl it in thick black texta. my thirteen year old cousin is a tagger and he does it for the adrenalin, not to leave his mark or send a message, but because he loves the buzz of maybe getting caught, and that’s just as tragic ~ are there not more productive ways to channel his pubescent need to take risks? rock climbing or mountain biking perhaps?
of course, tagging is a world away from street art, which i adore. the distinction seems to be having something to say. banksy is the obvious example, but somehow his messages are starting to fade as their price tags inflate and they are hung on the walls of Hollywood mansions, or covered with Perspex and advertised in tourism brochures. not quite in the spirit of transient, counterculture street art graffiti, and certainly losing some of its voice in the process. the reaction in some places, including Melbourne, has been to graffiti the graffiti, by drawing on a moustache or just pouring paint over it ~ it’s a post-graffiti movement.
enter moss graffiti ~ with an inbuilt green message and inbuilt impermanence ~ temporary street art at its most temporary, like these pieces, which i believe are all by anna garforth and eleanor stevens.
