OFFICIAL BLOG - Hello World Art Exhibition : Living Life with No Regrets! Ben NAZ

Hello World, if only you were closer.  Ben Naz rises to the challenge again, among other great artists, in a show in California presented by Luna George.

OFFICIAL BLOG - Hello World Art Exhibition : Living Life with No Regrets! Ben NAZ: We just received artwork for the Hello World art show from Ben NAZ  of the UK, and the energy of having this in our hands right now is...

An Ode to the Loyal Fitzroyal

I have loyal followers who spur me to keep writing and in turn I am loyal to local bloggers who inspire me to continue.  I believe in fate the way all optimists do, despite being a pessimist of Woody Allen proportion. Why am I telling you this? Because as I walk the streets of Fitzroy each day, coffee in hand, it is all I ruminate on. I am possibly leaving the place I have called home for the best part of a decade and this leaves me exposed, my ties to Fitzroy visible as strings between my heart and these cobbled alleys.

 
 What is it about Fitzroy and is it's essence still here?  Artygraffarti knows the writers are still here.  The other side crossed over for shits and giggles but that seems to be over.  Rore @ The Baby Farmers laments the giants are fading.  I find myself struggling for material.

                                      
What happens if I move from Fitzroy altogether?  Bill will still run ICI, Michael will still make it his office.  Francis may be there a bit longer, he still has his PhD to complete.  Amanda will still be fabulous and thank God Fitzroy didn't lose her.  Alimentari will still be consistently yum, Atomica will still have the best coffee and the shittest customer service. Actually that is not fair, since I returned from my most recent 6 month boycott the new staff are really sweet, particularly the dudes with the accents.  Nic at Marios will always be my favourite barrista.  Gertrude St will split its Capri pants sometime soon, it is bursting at the seams with 'too cool for school', but that is okay 'cos Smith St will be there to catch the fall.

The crazies, will they still be here getting a meal from the Rose or the Napes and a check in from the neighbours or will they be pushed aside by the middle class hopefuls moving in from the 'burbs and content with paper thin walls and no aircon, just to be here. The Poet, will he still promote the Rose Street Market despite the general public's best efforts to avoid him? The dudes from the flats, will they still be able to sit and share a laugh out the front of Grill'd? It seems to me they have been moved on from there recently. The disenfranchised Indigenous custodians, will they remain safe to get justifiably pissed off with us every Australia Day?

You know what?  As sad as I feel about change, I think so.  I think the essence of Fitzroy will always remain.  Fitzroy is unique. It is more than a suburb we live in, its a badge we wear. It is held together by the loyalty with which the stayers, the Fitzroyal, passionately live within it.  I can't begin to name them but I follow them on twitter, on Facebook.  And how lucky am I, they follow me back. What a place! Pull up a couch, Fitzroy is here to stay.

Marching Disorder

This month has been a year of it.  My feet are blistered in their blunnies and there are callouses the size of dollar coins on my palms as I trudge on through it.  Okay, so that is a fantasy, I think we all know by now I am white collar.  Still the image fits and I am claiming it.
It has been the month that was and it isn't even over.  The wind has demolished country towns. In politics, marching orders were fired as fast as bullets and with equal force. In street art, exceedingly good exhibitions unfolded north, south and centre.  Lia Tabrah rocked a Deb Spoons Croc Off like no-one else could and I defy you not to love her. She is a Goddess and you need to get her art ON YOU!

 

Will Coles wiped the floor with it and so did Slicer. International visitors graced us, and I don't just mean Ellen. Futura was here- I mean fuck!  And of course our ever gregarious Deano entertained him.

 

At a street level the lanes pulsated and so did the resurging can work (commissioned and not so commissioned respectively). In movement of the underground variety, another anniversary has been marked and YAY for the chicks! And  a sore ass for one poor fella but he was appropriately rewarded.  If that is too cryptic for you, then you were not there.  But I was and will be forever humbled by my very generously provided visitors pass. THANK YOU - you know who you are.

I continue to watch in awe as Naz fights his battles with the grace of someone with more strength than 10 of us put together.  That man is an absolute champion.  Marky Wearne remains in hospital and I dedicate this post to Mark, Lou, Simon and Annie.  I feel ashamed that my suburb failed Shaun Wright but proud of the Council dude who didn't let him die alone.  And BTW if you are one of those fuckers with more testosterone than balls and you are reading this, CHANGE YOUR WAYS.  Step back, THINK! The worse thing that can happen is you become a better person.
And by the way, I kinda came out this month.  No more clandestine appearances (well, some). You will see more of my face from here on in. Flasher has arrived. March on I say.

The Sweatshop:

The Sweatshop: made me wanna stay in Townsville long enough to explore, alas, no chance this time.  GO HERE !!!

Piece

Fitzroy has gone a bit Omo bright since around the time that French film crew arrived a few months back and the South mob crossed the river.  Our streets have a hue that wasn't there before (aside from the consistent and long standing contributions of AV of course, and Lush). Call me a Fitzroyal snob but I feel a bit twitchy about us looking a bit too pristine and purdy. That North South divide for all its shortcomings has been good for resisting homogeneity.  Besides, the variable quality of paste ups have given us 'art critics and art fags' fodder that sustained us for years.  Now we have to find a whole new language to whinge about whats getting up in the laneways.   So thank God Lush is back, lushing up the place and generally agitating.  His Legal Bunny had me chuckling Fitzroyally for days...

Manila's Finest

I recently landed an opportunity to interview a graffiti artist I admire greatly.  I wasn't sure how to present the interview as a post, as it was, in the end, a rolling conversation over Facebook messenger. We initially planned to talk on the mobile but for reason of his illness, this interview had to proceed by keyboard only. But as it turns out, it was still one of the best conversations I have ever had.  One of those encounters you leave with a sense of humble awe.  I decided this was definitely to be my first 'biographical essay'.

Ben Naz is what I once thought every street artist was. He is wittingly political and motivated by the cause, whether it be the Philippines, 'Pinoy' identity, freedom, equality, peace or life. As for life, he is arm wrestling esophageal cancer with one eye shut tightly in defiance and the other wide open, focused sharply on his future projects.  He faces each day with fingers crossed and is guided by one principle, and that is to LIVE LIFE WITHOUT REGRETS. His plight is to show the world the Filipino identity, his passion is art and his motivation is the state of the world, globally. I get goosebumps thinking about how awesome this guy is and how lucky the world graffiti movement has been to have him.

Photo courtesy of Ben Naz

Photo courtesy of Ben Naz

Photo courtesy of Ben Naz

Naz tells me he was born in Strasbourg, France. In 1983 as a 5 year old lad, his dad took him “back to the homeland”: Manila, Philippines. Their return saw him in a country that was under Martial Law. He tells me this was the year Aquino, Ferdinand Marcos’s political rival, was assassinated (at the airport that is now named after him).

I don't know enough about the Philippines in the eighties, but Naz does, having experienced it first-hand. In 1994, in his teens Ben Naz emerged as a graffiti artist railing against oppression and fighting for a Filipino identity and freedom. He was not well received by the ruling party who perceived his work as a vulgar attack on the state. 

Naz was instrumental in getting the political message out in Manila, at a time when all street art was considered propaganda by the rightist/rebels. His work was contentious and much of his subject matter, he explains, was considered Taboo. Naz tells me "street art was unacceptable": considered not only to be vandalism but to be a malicious mischief. 

Naz eventually left Manila when he found despite his best efforts that "there was nothing there for me". He returned to France, but ultimately settled in London, where he found his "breathing space".  It is also where he really discovered what was missing “back home” where:
 “we are taught to look in one direction like a blind guided horse”.  He calls this missing ingredient “the sweet sense of democracy” and believes this is “what freedom is all about”.

Until his recent illness, he traveled back to Paris monthly. And he tells me under cloak and dagger that he has BIG PLANS for Paris when he is in recovery but I am sworn to secrecy (I can tell you HUGE plans and that it kills me to bite my tongue).

And that is where Naz is like no other. His treatment is literally preventing him from speaking, but he has no intention to shut up. His prime motivation is to educate people about the plight of those who are not free in this world. Just last December, despite his illness and between chemo treatments, he did a piece about the Gaza conflict. When I asked him about his motivation he explained “I’m trying to educate people and make them aware of what is really going on”. He feels that being a street artist should not just be about putting something different up, but should be about placing something for history.

Naz tells me it was difficult to be a graffiti artist in Manila in the days he began and I can believe it. I am not sure any of us in the luxury of western democracy can possibly comprehend the bravery required to 1. get up as a graffiti artist and sprout anti-establishment opinion; and 2. use imagery considered to be extremely controversial.  But get up he did.  

Naz is pleased to see that in the graffiti and street art scene in the Philippines there is more freedom to express ideas and he puts this down to the power of social media, because, he explains, through smart phones people in the Philippines are able to record their work and spread their message globally.

He is not wrong, there is a strong Pinoy presence in social media, by way of Flickr, Facebook, Tumblr and Blogger.  See: Pilipina Street Plan.

So what is next for Naz? Right now, he is focused on his treatment. All going well, his next focus is his art. He has an unending desire to spread a message to other artists and the public. Perhaps the most poignant message he posted to you tube last year was his announcement about the dire-ness of his situation and his reflection on what he has learnt and what he wishes for the world.  Watch here.

If Naz seems wiser than his years I don't think it is all the illness. He has seen things none of us have seen, walked streets we can only walk as tourists, and taken risks that would terrify the most brazen urbex nut. Naz tells me "my experience as an artist and as an individual is something I'd like to share with people" in the hope that it "may help others do the impossible".  I don't yet know what the impossible is for us in the privilege of the west.I suspect his area of concern is in the east. And for Naz, as an individual, the impossible is bucking the system. He won’t be blind sided, he won’t give into cancer, and he definitely will not stop working for the cause.

He offers as this parting wisdom: “stand up for what you believe is right. Express your thoughts and feelings through your work. Show the world that we are all one”.  He adds: 
“Everything I did in my life I couldn't asked for more. I'm so happy to share things, my experiences, my dreams and my visions for everyone to see through my works. With that I'm happy”.

I would like to thank Ben for his time and the incredible positive influence he has had on me. 

Vignettes, rocks, Nock and Naz

Life is woven.  Threads spoken, felt, heard and remembered.  The fabric is strong but temperamental.  The inter-connections are as random as they are intentional.  I have always thought about time and space as the most incredible invention, like the universe decided everything had to touch to be real. I am an atheist but if there was a mastermind who dreamt this shit up, we don't even have the language to begin to understand that kind of greatness.  

I want to spend more time looking at people's stories.  Their multiple stories. The woven quilt of life. Where is this sentimentality coming from?  My Scottish roots, obviously.  Also, I just had a guy comment on my post about Nock.  I posted the comment, but I loved it so much I want to quote it here so you don't miss it:  

I was at a bar with my lady when a gent offered us his seat. We sat with him and spoke of life, travel and graffiti and then realised we grew up painting and creating right next to each other on neighbouring farms in WA. I remember driving past his farm on the way to school and admiring his artwork adorning any possible wall or surface. This fine gentleman was Nock. What a champion! Love this post FF. Thanks for sharing...

Time and space.  

I have a story I would like to share with you, since I am talking about vignettes and the fabric of life.  I collect rocks and minerals.  Love them.  I was at a wee place in Tasmania called Stanley in 2011.  I found a shop that was obviously owned by an enthusiast, so I went in.  A woman stood stiffly behind the counter.  I asked for a closer look at a relatively huge chunk of Crocoite.  It's not an overly abundant mineral. It is fire engine red and the crystals look chaotic. It is stunning.  Anyway assuming the woman to be the shop owner, I asked her if it was local.  She attempted an answer, desperately fumbling with the tag, but choked.  Her eyes welled with tears. She gave up and looked at me and said "I don't know, my daughter is the one who knows about this stuff, she died last week.  This is her store and I just don't know what to do".  I hugged her, we both cried, and I left with half a dozen more minerals than I meant to.    But I will never forget that woman, standing in her daughter's store, shocked and scared shitless. 

Anyway bringing this back to street art, I guess that being my focus and your interest.  Those of you not friends with Ben Naz on facebook, he is this awesome street artist, going through a massive fight with oesophageal cancer.   Because he is so engaging, talented and awesome he has a massive following and street artists from around the world send him their art and well wishes.  He has roots in the East (Philippines) and is living in the UK (born in France), so he straddles the East and West.  As some of you will know, my recent journeys have peaked my interest in street art in Eastern Cultures. I can't help thinking artists who straddle that divide have so much more to say.  Anyway think of this post as something of an Arc.  I hope to bring you much more of his story. He has agreed to an interview, so more to come.   Like Nock, I hazard a guess there are a thousand people out there with a story to tell about this guy they met...I can't wait to be one of them.

strayaday

Grass the colour of straw and the smell of honey.  Wind between eucalypt leaves. Tony Greig on the ABC.  Snags crusty with charcoal debris.  Peeling my thighs off the black vinyl of a Kingswood.  Screeches as the sprinkler hits hot skin.  Paddle Pops and Gay Times. Backyard cricket and red stains on cricket whites.  The Aussie flag.

Or not? I have become scared of that flag, and its hate. 

 Aussies.  We love dick, apparently.  Drawing Dicks on the Herald Sun takes me back to the 663 to Ringwood.  But I have friends who immigrated here, what is their Australia?  I have met many solid indigenous folk, what is their Australia?  

I may share a white history, but my Australia is not the Aussie Flag up high in Cronulla.  It does not bash a Lebbo.  It does not hate Mussies.  It's learnt so much from it's Asian colleagues and African friends.  It respects Gays, and I'll be fuct if it turns its back on the boat people.....

Anyway, with mixed emotion I say to you, Happy Australia Day, and earnestly I simultaneously apologise for all we have done to this land and the indigenous people who understand it so much better....

The Inner Depths of Nock

He is an unassuming genius, I have concluded.  This lad that is Nock.  I first set out to interview him following my Nock and the Spotters post.  I am still waiting for a promised piece of graft ... but I will follow that up...  Anyway I pursued an interview and was pleasantly surprised by the total lack of ego from someone so adept at his craft.  This guy is not one for blowing his of his own metaphorical.  Rare in this world where we broadcast the slightest achievement.  Well, let's just say I am a fan.

Q: You seem to have covered the mainland of Australia, left to right, where do you actually hail from?

A: Started out in England but grew up all over the place.

 Q: You have done a heap of stuff in Fitzroy, do you think the Roy still has it or is it losing it a bit?

A: Yeah it’s definitely going down hill, too many people with no respect and no idea of so-called graffiti laws.

Q: What got you started and who do you admire?

A: I grew up with a few massive abandoned silo's nearby it kind of became my playground from a very young age, all the people who helped me get started really Nore & Rifs and many of the ol' crew members  Note from Flash: maybe Silo's in Fremantle? don't quote me I am just fishin'

Q: I see from your blog on Tumblr (http://nokroe.tumblr.com/) that you have engaged in a bit of travel, tell me about painting in Viet Nam?

A: Yeah a bit here and there, hahaha that was an interesting one the language barrier stopped me from procuring any legal walls, but I came to the conclusion that if I went out with enough cash for a bribe it would be ok. Note from Flash: I can't find the images right now to link to but they are awesome!

Q:Where do your characters come from?

A: The inner depths of the neural caverns

Q: The piece you were involved in on Fitzroy St at the start of this year blew my mind and I know it blew the minds of a lot of popular artists. Do you have any favourites of your own work?

A: Ahh not really. I usually cant stand anything I've done until like a year later, when I can look at it in a different light.

Q: Writer or Street Artist?

A: I don’t know how to answer that, I don’t think I'd class myself as anything in particular.

Q: You are a hard man to research, how many Aliases do you go by?

A: Hahah a few over the years, too many to count .!

Q: Have you got an opinion about the age old issue of walls and respect?

A: Yeah don’t touch a wall when you cant do something better..!

Q: You use everything from watercolour and ink on paper to aerosol and acrylic on board, do you have a preference?

A: Nah not really its good to mash everything up.

Q: Tell me about the shows around town and do you have any plans for more soon?

A: Yeah I've had a few here and there this year, yeah I'm working on a big body of work at the moment..

Q: What’s next for Nock?

A: Moving to Japan is on the horizon...Note from Flash:  I reckon you may have better luck negotiating commissions there lol - looking forward to seeing them, and following up with a further interview.

Absolut Bloody Good Art (Fuck Mr Brainwash)

This post is difficult for me.  For one it has all been said before.  Second it isn't said enough.  Third I cannot grasp any reasonable thought inside my head to say it.  You see, I lost my Bali virginity recently.  It wasn't what I expected, some things were awkward, some felt really good and I can't wait to do it again, because I know I will get better at it.

Like Joel in Wish You Were Here (thanks Krys, awesome film) I was the idiot and the innocent, at once.  I didn't know the trodden paths I stepped on. I was a walking cliche and faux pas.  I found myself taking it all in and struggling to keep up.

The same went for the art.  The graffiti, art and street art of Seminyak, where I spent my time, was familiar with an extra dimension.  Straight up throwies, life size paste ups and clever political messages reminiscent of those captured by Rennie Ellis years ago were scattered between temples and shops.  It spoke of what I was observing, which was validating.

The symbolism around the Absolut Vodka bottle goes beyond the 'Absolute'...in Bali, the bottle is used to carry petrol for the bikes that represent the most utilized mode of transport, and is mixed with home brews, because the taxes are so prohibitive...

I think the reason the graf and street are so political in Bali is the obvious thing that the subject is richer.  Literally, the subject is richer. Wealthier nations infiltrating. Tourism has both precipitated an industry and on the periphery, desecrated a culture.  Shop after shop has not a single thing to do with Balinese culture. Entire areas devoted to Western indulgences. Quint, below, is a Javanese artist I am now watching intently. He trades in the Paradoxical.

Unfortunately, some of the 'art' merges with advertisement, such as this Magali Pascal piece below but in many ways this is poetic

 What I believe is lacking within us as tourists, as well meaning and informed as we might be or wish to be, is an appreciation for the complete economical, social and cultural difference.  We arrive, we soak up the cacophony of sounds, smells, sights of this Island culture that has embraced the tourism that has evolved.  Maybe we just want to relax.  We feel the heat and fiercely challenge it. We dodge the traffic and do not give in to it's constancy. We eat meals that surpass the familiar. We walk past the dogs and hope they are well cared for. We shop and cannot believe the prices.  We don't inquire about the offerings and prayers that constantly surround us. We drink the beer because it's good, the coffee because it is outstanding.  We smile and greet those serving us. We smile and greet those passing us. We don't dwell on the hired help.  We don't wear much because it is hot and we think that is okay. We drink too much. We experience sun, servitude and bargains and it makes us feel good.

But there is an undercurrent and it is reflected in the street art.  It's cautionary and poignant.

Dedicated to Mark Wearne, fighting it hard right now, everything crossed for your recovery mate x