Not just spray paint
With concrete as canvas, Houston street artists foresee a beautiful graffiti"problem"
Spontaneity is a defining aspect of street art, rendering it difficult to predict its future. But with public interest in the topic reaching a critical mass, as evidenced by the publication of David Elizondo's Stay Up: Houston Street Art, a commission by the Houston Public Library, and the spring release of the documentary Stick 'Em Up, it's time to assess the future of fringe urban art in Houston.
CultureMap caught up with two of Houston's street art kingpins, GONZO247 (director of Aerosol Warfare) and Skeez181 to see into the crystal ball of the city's concrete jungle.
"Every year, you're going to see more visibility on the street," GONZO247 says. "In the next 10 years, Houston's going to see a huge surge of other artists that will go out and put up artwork without permission.
"We'll have a legit reason to say, 'Hey, we have a graffiti problem.' "
Before then, the local scene has a bit of catching up to do, he says.
"I feel that there really isn't a big graffiti art movement here compared to other cities. You can drive down the street in San Antonio or Austin and see a way bigger street presence."
Skeez has faith, though: "A lot of the talent here can compete with any other major city. Houston is always underrated."
Houston's vast swaths of cement make it a prime canvas for a vibrant street art subculture. Ever the immigration mecca, Houston will grow as a destination for street art sensations seeking greener pastures. Skeez181 cites Houston transplant artists Jerk from California, Mak from the Bronx and Deck from Brooklyn as examples of coastal urban expats.
"These people weren't here five years ago. I definitely foresee a lot more out of towners," he says. "I think it's the space and the price of the city. Houston being one of the last places to feel the recession and that there are great jobs and universities here means that we're attracting an even more diverse crowd. GONZO247 adds,
I think Houston is the last melting pot of the United States. The transplanted artists bring flavors from wherever they grew up. They're going to shake things up — it'll be great to have some curry, salt, pepper and cayenne.
Rather than inciting turf wars, the established Houston street artists appear receptive to the newcomers, so it's likely that a blended aesthetic of local and national styles will emerge.
We'll also see an increasing pluralism under the moniker of "street art": The 99 cent cans of spray paint will be usurped by stencils and wheatpasting.
"Street art is now the umbrella, and graffiti is just one rain drop," GONZO247 says. "There are a lot of people that have this creative drive that need to put their art and opinions on the street, but they have no desire to use spray paint."
The example of collective Knittaplease "bombing" tree branches and traffic signals with sweaters is a prime example of the unprecedented convergence of street art and fine art craft.
An evolving public opinion about graffiti, in which it's deemed a marker of urban vitality rather than violence, has spurred commissions for public art projects such as a mural in the underground parking garage at the Central Library's Jesse H. Jones Building in downtown Houston.
"Society is so over stimulated and overexposed, people are just screaming for something from the underground," Skeez181 says.
Adds GONZO247, "I definitely think that more commissions will take place, as long as there is a patron out there."
Encroaching gentrification into formerly graffiti-infused neighborhoods means that artists will migrate to new urban enclaves. Skeez181 references the now-extinct rice mills on Studemont, north of Memorial Drive.
"It was a place for the homeless, and graffiti writers would bring ropes to scale the building and paint for the love of it, sometimes in parts that were never even exposed," he says. "Now they're condos."
Add the Commerce Street railyard to the list of fringe hangouts that have gone lamestream. "The rawness of Houston graffiti is dying because buildings like the rice mills don't exist anymore," Skeez181 laments.
However, don't try to track a cross-town migration of urban artists. GONZO247 and Skeez181 predict a revival of Houston street art in its birthplace.
"Montrose has always been an epicenter," GONZO247 says.
Adds Skeez181, "Montrose has the history of being an arts district. When people tag it, it's not ugly graffiti — it's art."
In the decades ahead, the grandfathers of Houston graffiti — such names as Color Juan, Article 3 and UPC — will bequeath the street scene to a new generation.
Says GONZO247, "People grow up. Modern graffiti started in Philly in the early '70s, but by now these people have a house with a mortgage, pets, kids. The necessity of paying bills with art means street artists will be willing to take different approaches. We'll start to see an actual value in the art."
Skeez181 stands in accord: "It gets to the point where a graffiti artist has a family, and puts it all on the line just for the love of painting a train. Still, it always carries an adrenaline factor. The few that will still do it will be the kings and continue to mold the culture in Houston.
"These are the guys the young cats try to 'bite' and copy their style. Their talent will be carried on and then take new forms."