Street Art, Shepard Fairey, and Hipsters


Maybe its because I have been watching too many street art films, reading too many art books, or maybe its because I am tired of mustaches and dollar store sunglasses from the 80’s reselling for 20$, but I think its time we check in on art.

No offense to Swoon, Futura, Mister Cartoon, Revok, Martha Cooper, and Space Invader, but I am on the fence about street art being put in a museum.  I watched a trailer this morning for a new film by Alex Stapleton called OUTSIDE IN: The Story of Art in the Streets.  I took the time to see Exit Through the Gift Shop a year ago and found that I related to it as an artist who at one point in my life was projecting magnificently type-set phrases like “route 30 is dirty” and photos of giant penises on the side of buildings next to major highways and along South Street in the Philly.  I think Bansky is a talented artist, sculpture, and getaway extraordinaire.   While I would sell out the same way if I were in their shoes, only as a joke on the rich folks buying my art, the artist in me says street art is out of place in a gallery. 

at the Italian Market near the South Philadelphia Range

Frank Shepard Fairey, as most of you know, is an American artist who became extremely popular for one of the greatest swindles of all time, humanizing the Obama campaign to help him win the election.  Shep is a featured artist for advertising Outside in, so I assume he is featured quite prominently in the film.  He is said to be one of today’s most influential street artists, and I believe he is an artist (he is also quite handsome). The MOMA, among several other contemporary art museums, are currently showcasing his work inside, as opposed to outside, its walls.   My question to is “what the fuck white people?” (Thanks sxephil) My comment to Shep is “Way to go Shep, you found an amazing way to print money doing what you love.”

I will most likely see this film, not only for the street art intrigue, but to see how Alex documented this event.  Call me a hypocrite, but don’t call me a Fairy.