Such is the life of a grad student.
This post will conclude the paper I wrote after the initial phase of my research at the Columbus North Market. My research is by no means done, in fact this paper really only serves to highlight a few areas where future research is necessary. I will continue my fieldwork this quarter and continue to report as I go.
Neoliberal Pedagogy in Public Space: “Safe Gathering” vs. “Dangerous Assembly”
The elision of gathering place and conspicuous consumption is indicative of the new neoliberal paradigm.[1] The injection of economic thinking into every aspect of life is one facet of neoliberalism, one supported and inscribed through the shift of our public spaces into commercial spaces. The historical development of the market shows that there never really was a time when the two spheres were separate; however, the redefinition of public space, combined with contemporary policing practices, physical limitations of an indoor market, and the presence of mostly prepared-food vendors marks a shift in the market’s relationship with the citizens of Columbus.
According to Mark Cotè, Richard J.F. Day, and Greig De Peuter, “The neoliberal project includes what is known as the globalization of capital, as well as the intensification of societies of control.”[2] Problematic in such definitions (and they are common), however, is the anthropomorphization of neoliberalism. Referring to a neoliberal project grants agency to an ideology that is better described through the articulation of numerous practices in mundane places, such as Columbus’ North Market. Observing the market over a period of weeks in the winter of 2009 highlighted a number of practices that seem to articulate with established thinking about neoliberalism. I categorize the practices as drawing a distinction between “safe gathering” and “dangerous assembly.”
I am defining “dangerous assembly” as any gathering that disrupts commerce or tarnishes the appearance of the hyperreal. This assembly is often intentionally disruptive (such as the Reclaim the Streets movement[3]), directed at capitalist enterprise (such as Reverend Billy’s Church of Stop Shopping[4]), and can occur in large-scale or small-scale forms often without clear leadership which makes it hard to eliminate.
At least since Seattle hosted the World Trade Organization’s third Ministerial meeting in 1999, which exploded into violence,[5] cities around the world have been extremely careful in regulating conduct in public spaces. Coupled with the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, large-scale assembly has become difficult to organize and execute without inciting preemptive state violence. The Democratic and Republican National Conventions in both 2004 and 2008 are further examples of a tightening of control in the wake of Seattle 1999. My point here, though, is not to illustrate how the North Market is no longer a place of dissent (by some accounts, it has been a place of political activism), but rather the trickle-down effect from neoliberal policing practices has meant that only a certain kind of dissent is allowable, and “dangerous assembly” is not it.
Instead, “safe gathering” is encouraged, which I am referring to as the regulated and parsed gathering of small, private groups of people in public space that does not impede commerce or shine a critical light on the hyperreal. These practices are acceptable to the commercial enterprise of the market while still allowing for some (limited) choice-making activities. By allowing for small groups of people to gather around tables to talk about whatever they like, an appearance of freedom is generated that makes “dangerous assembly” practices seem outside the norm. It becomes an affront to common sense to see people disrupting commerce in any way. These practices ensure that it appears that there is a balance of commerce with public engagement, while in reality the clearly commercial enterprise is never interrupted.
Conclusion
What all of this points to is the preliminary finding that the North Market does indeed help educate for neoliberal sensibilities, even while it contains the seeds for its own subversion. This amounts to what Foucault referred to as heterotopic space. Foucault describes heterotopic spaces as fitting a number of criteria.[6] First, the market is a space that has changed over time, most notably from a site of daily necessity to a space for conspicuous consumption. Second, the market is a space in which multiple spaces exist. It is simultaneously a space of commerce, social gathering, law enforcement/policing, marketing (for the city), and perhaps even a kind of “theme park.” Third, the market is linked to “slices in time.” It acts as a museum, indefinitely collecting time through artifacts on display and the historical narrative constructed for public view. It also acts as festival, through its special events (like Fiery Foods Festival) in particular. Finally, the market operates in relation to remaining space, in this instance, the city of Columbus. For this criteria, the market acts as a “real” space of commerce in relation to the normally messy practice of everyday life in America. So, while I have focused on the neoliberal pedagogy of the North Market, there are other stories to be told. Most evident from this project, then, is the need to continue this line of research. There are still numerous questions that need to be answered, and observing the market in spring and summer will give me a more complete picture and most likely change my findings.
[1] As articulated by Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the College de France, 1978-1979 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008).
[2] Mark Cotè, Richard J.F. Day, and Greig De Peuter, ed., Utopian Pedagogy: Radical Experiments Against Neoliberal Globalization (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2007).
[3] Giorel Curran, 21st Century Dissent: Anarchism, Anti-Globalization and Environmentalism (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006). Reclaim the Streets organizes, among other things, seemingly spontaneous “parties” in the middle of traffic intersections or on major highways to disrupt traffic and draw attention to the way public space is used.
[4] http://www.revbilly.com/. Reverend Billy is famous for coordinating direct situationist actions such as performing an exorcism on the flagship Macy’s store in New York City during the Christmas shopping season.
[5] It is unclear as to what the “first” act of violence was and who committed it, but what is clear is that the peaceful civil disobedience of the majority of the protestors was met with an excessive (impressive?) display of state violence justified by the destruction of property by some Black Block Anarchists.
[6] Foucault, “Of Other Spaces.”
Pedagogy of the Market
Linking Past to Present: “Presenting” the History of the North Market
One of my first observations is the series of framed signs along the east wall that provide a historical account of the market’s existence. Beginning in the 1800s, each sign accounts for a period of time highlighting the role of the North Market in Columbus’ development from frontier town to Midwestern metropolis. Toward the latter end of the historical narrative is a discussion of the declining role of the market and its subsequent revitalization. Integral to this historical revival is the North Market Development Authority, which leases the market property from the city and, in turn, leases space to the numerous vendors.
Whereas the market had once been fully public space, it has, like many other spaces, become privatized in order to maintain viability.[1] Generally, it seems as if this privatization has been a good thing – the market still exists. However, the historical account provided by the market tells the story of inevitable and beneficent privatization. No conflict is highlighted in the account; it is presented as a common sense solution to a market that was once struggling within a changing urban environment. Indeed, the signs appear to be intended to tie the current iteration of the market to an idealized past where the market served as a major focal point for public gathering in Columbus. This “presenting” of the past aids in marketing efforts.
Providing a historical narrative that locates the contemporary market within a tradition that is highly populist and deeply nostalgic (two things Americans seemingly cannot live without) helps realize the North Market as hyperreal space.[2] Eco points to Disney Land as the ultimate hyperreal space. Where “real” pirates rub up against “real” American Main Street, Disney is completely imaginary, while being thoroughly real. He notes, “The American imagination demands the real thing, and, to attain it, must fabricate the absolute fake.”[3] It is in these hyperreal spaces where the copy becomes more real than the original itself. Tying the contemporary market to the markets of the past is an attempt to provide an air of authenticity, which attracts American consumers. However, this process also marks out the market as a kind of exceptional space: one that is rare, valuable for the public good, and historic in such a way as to obligate citizen consumers to utilize the space in particular ways.
Educating About Cheese: Buying and Selling at the Market
I am wandering the market without any particular agenda today. I am still trying to get a sense of how people move through the space, interact with one another and the merchants. I skirt around a knot of people talking animatedly to one another near the foot of the stairway that leads to the balcony seating area. After ducking under an arm thrown outwards to emphasize some point, – “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Don’t worry about it, I survived, I reply with a laugh – I find myself in front of a counter filled with cheeses. The deli case I almost ran headfirst into is stickered with numerous signs with typed descriptions of certain cheeses. The signs note the name of the cheese, provide the country and region of origin, and describe the taste, texture, and smell. Often there is a suggestion for what wine or other foods should be served with the cheese. Intrigued, I approach the counter.
After looking into the case for a few moments a woman in an apron approaches me from behind the counter. Her nametag reads “Sue.”[4] She appears to be in her late 50s or early 60s. She is wearing hornrimmed glasses, her hair reaches her chin and is salt and pepper colored, mostly salt. She smiles.
“How can I help you?” Hi, I’m looking to try something new. I like parmesan, pecorino, and softer cheeses but I don’t remember their names. I don’t really like bleu cheese or brie. What do you recommend, maybe a goat or sheep cheese?
Sue’s face brightens, her tone of voice carries enthusiasm. It is clear that she enjoys talking about her product. She asks a few more questions.
“Do you like soft cheeses?” Yes.
She reaches into the case.
“This is our most popular cheese. It’s a French cheese, made from cow’s milk called St. Nectaire. Would you like to try it?” I’d love to.
She cuts a thin slice from it with an enormous knife (I was amazed at her ability to wield it at all, let alone so deftly), places the cheese onto a piece of wax paper, and hands it to me. I sniff at the thin slice, then ask,
Do I eat the rind? “If you like. You don’t have to.”
I pop the cheese into my mouth. It is delicious. I ask for a small wedge to take home. Like a good salesperson Sue asks me if I would like to try another.
“I have another cheese in mind for you. You said you like pecorino, was that Tuscano or Romano?? Pecorino Toscano. I ate it often when I lived in Florence. “Oh good, you’ll love this, it’s the Romano.
She cuts another slice with the comically large knife. I order another wedge to take home with me.
After the buying and selling is over, I inquire about the signs in the deli case window. Sue informs me that they are a benefit to the business. Even though every cheese is not described in the window signs, they are enough to both attract attention (most people will read at least one or two signs, even if they do not buy anything) and entice people to buy. Sue shares that 30 to 50 per cent of customers are returning customers, depending on the season. So, anywhere from 50 to 70 per cent are new customers, and many of those people, she notes, are drawn in by the signs. When pressed further she comments on the notion that she, along with many of the vendors at the market, try to educate their customers about their product. This creates an ethos of connoisseurship at the market, with a gastronomically educated clientele with whom the vendors can engage. I suspect this serves at least two purposes. First, many of the vendors are enthusiasts and like most enthusiasts love to share their interests with others. Second, it appears that an ethos of gastronomic connoisseurship facilitates the seeking out of more esoteric foodstuffs, which seem to be fairly profitable for the vendors.
Unique challenges face the produce vendors, including Curds and Whey. As the historical account of the North Market shows, the market experienced a decline in consumer relevance and economic viability from the end of World War II through the 1970s. In order to counter this decline, the North Market Development Authority was created. Part of the group’s success has been tying the market’s operation to the surrounding Arena and Convention Center district, which meant that a number of the leased spaces went to prepared-food vendors. Currently, less than half of the stalls are dedicated to the buying and selling of produce, bulk goods, and other raw materials, which have historically been the hallmarks of public markets. This environment makes the “presenting” practices that seem to attract American consumers all the more important, but it also means the produce vendors have to work harder and harder to attract, educate, and retain consumers.
Learning Space: Private Consumption Versus Public Gathering
There are groups of people of varying numbers sitting at tables around the entire area. A student working with a laptop sits alone at one table. A group of four men sit at another talking loudly about the upcoming NFL Superbowl. A group of three middle-aged (around 45-50 by my estimation) women sit talking and laughing at yet another table. It is a useful space for eating the numerous food offerings from the first level. As a social space, however, it is a differentiating space. The physical limitations of the relatively narrow distance between wall and railing offer limited opportunity to congregate in large groups. Instead, the space is far friendlier to small groups, up to about 15 to 20 people if several tables are pushed together. Beyond that, however, it seems like it would become difficult to hold any sort of conversation as many in the group would not be able to see or hear others at the far end of the table.
According to a pamphlet I picked up on my initial tour of the market, the market has always been a site of gathering.
In 1876, the market was the only place for people to find all of life’s necessities. Things haven’t changed much. Throughout its history, the North Market has served most importantly as a meeting place. Although today’s North Market may look different from the original Market [sic] built in 1876, the purpose of the Market remains the same. It’s a place where people gather together, to shop, eat, mingle, and enjoy themselves.
It is clear that the North Market remains a place where people shop, eat, mingle, and possibly enjoy themselves. It is less clear, however, that the market retains its identity as a gathering space in any more meaningful sense. At a micro level, it is certain that people gather in the market. In my limited observations, I was able to identify numerous groups of people conducting business, talking, eating, and consuming. The longer I stayed, though, the more I realized that it would be difficult to gather on a larger scale.
The physical limitation of the upper floor and the obviously commercial use of space on the first level would hinder any large gathering, demonstration or protest, or other coordinated action. In a sense, the space is designed to keep private the gatherings in this ostensibly public space. Unarmed security guards and armed police officers patrolled the ground floor, asking people to keep at least a minimum amount of space open to keep foot traffic moving. However, at the stalls attracting a larger crowd, the requests were dropped, as the line was too long to move anywhere else. On the upper levels, the space facilitated long, narrow groupings, which can easily dictate the effectiveness of a speaker attempting to address a crowd. These practices and limitations diffuse gatherings on a large scale.
The main purpose of the North Market is clearly commercial. With this in mind, it becomes transparent that the market’s function as a meeting place is elided with the practice of conspicuous consumption. The produce, meat, and seafood vendors are local, organic, earth-friendly businesses. The majority of the vendors are local and regional franchises, with a majority being stand-alone, independent businesses. So, while the market serves to attract a fairly liberal, eco-friendly, activist-oriented crowd, a crowd perhaps more likely to value such a community-oriented space, the value of the North Market as a meeting place is undermined.
[1] Margaret Kohn, Brave New Neighborhoods: The Privatization of Public Space (New York: Routledge, 2004).
[2] Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyperreality (Orlando, FL: Harcourt Brace & Co., 1986).
[3] Ibid., 8.
[4] Even though I am not disguising the name of the market or the particular vendor I am using pseudonyms. I do not feel comfortable using real names because I did not secure permission to do so.
I've been working this past quarter on a project studying the North Market in Columbus, OH. For the next few posts, I will excerpt from the paper I wrote for a class. I'd love feedback, as this is an ongoing project.
“The space in which we live, which draws us out of ourselves, in which the erosion of our lives, our time and our history occurs, the space that claws and gnaws at us, is also, in itself, a heterogeneous space. In other words, we do not live in a kind of void, inside of which we could place individuals and things. We do not live inside a void that could be colored with diverse shades of light, we live inside a set of relations that delineates sites which are irreducible to one another and absolutely not superimposable on one another.” – Michel Foucault[1]
Entering the Field
I shut my car door, breathe in the winter air, cool and crisp, and look around me. As I stand in the pay-per-hour parking lot, I take account of my surroundings. The first things I notice are the numerous cars in the lot. It appears that it will be crowded inside. I begin making my way toward the front doors; the canopied entrance is lined with empty picnic tables, clearly intended for warmer weather. The building has a façade that mixes weathered red brick with newer materials, giving the impression that an old building (the red brick) has been renovated for more contemporary use (the glass doors and external staircase). An enormous sign announces the purpose of the building; it reads “North Market” in large letters, with the O containing a rooster’s head surrounded by a radiant sun. I enter the front door and am immediately met with the hustle and bustle of commerce. I am bumped from behind and realize that I am standing in the doorway – Oh, I’m sorry, I should get out of the way, I say to the man who had run into me. “Not a problem, I didn’t see you.”
I move to the side and wonder what I should do first. I have no known connection to any of the shoppers, workers, or employees of the North Market Business Authority (the market management council). I decide to walk the floor and get a feel for the layout, at the same time exploring the shops and getting a sense of how people move through the market.
At first, it is easy to see that this is a converted warehouse, as the stalls have a haphazard, semi-permanent feel to them.[2] There are few dividing walls; different proprietors separate from one another by using deli cases, jar-laden bookcases, or produce containers. The North Market is clearly not a purpose-built environment with permanent partitions. However, the benefit is that the space can be broken up as necessary making it easier to bring in businesses of different sizes and means, as the space can be tailored to meet specific needs. The meat- and fish-mongers at the north end of the market take up a greater, more specialized space than do the bakery and popcorn stalls at the south end; the coffee shops and hot dog stands have specialized equipment, the bbq and hot sauce vendor is simply an open space lined with shelves with a cash register on a table. One vendor’s space is no more than six feet wide by ten feet deep or so, and has the feeling of an over-stuffed closet at grandma’s house. Everything from Bert’s Bees lip-gloss to Ohio State University shot glasses line the shelves.
As I complete my circuit, I determine that the ground floor consists of numerous vendors arranged around a rectangle. The two main thoroughfares run north-south, intersected by perpendicular east-west alleys. Almost every inch of walkway space is lined with display cases, serving counters, cash registers, or lunch counter-style seating. After finding the restrooms, I realize there is a staircase leading up to a second level. Not knowing what to expect, or even if I was entering an open area of the market, I head up. Upstairs is a large open space; tables and chairs line the walls and the inner railing that overlooks the ground floor shops. At the north end are the North Market business offices. At the south end is an enclosed seating space that is, according to a sign, available to rent for private gatherings but is currently empty. I sit down at a table to observe for a while.
[1] Michel Foucault, “Of Other Spaces,” http://www.foucault.info/documents/heteroTopia/foucault.heteroTopia.en.html, 1967 (accessed March 12, 2009).
[2] My observation was later confirmed when visiting the North Market website, http://www.northmarket.com/about-us. The building currently housing the market was formerly the Advanced Thresher warehouse, purchased by the city in 1992, leased to the North Market Development Authority, and opened to the public in 1995.
On why government sanctioned protest won't work.
Here's two conference proposals I've submitted. Unfortunately neither was accepted, but it's probably because I rushed to get them in and they weren't as developed as they could have been.
Proposal for the 7th International Conference of the Gender and Education Association
Gender: Regulation and Resistance in Education
Presenter: joshua j. kurz (Doctoral Student), Ohio State University
Paper Title: (Re)writing the Wall: Artistic Practices as Alternative Public Participation
We are at a critical juncture in American democracy and, in order to re-engage with the world through more complex and nuanced means, educators must refocus civic education in ways that allow young people to articulate a multiplicity of citizenship identifications. Exploring specific practices of youth civic identification can begin to radicalize notions of American democracy and erode a destructive, neoliberal American ego.
Chantal Mouffe writes extensively on the nature of democratic politics and processes of public participation. In Art and Democracy: Art as an Agonistic Intervention in Public Space, she writes “Once we accept that identities are never pre-given but that they are always the result of processes of identification…the question that arises is the type of identity that critical artistic practices should aim at fostering.” Identification within a democratic context is a complex practice that includes how one defines citizenship and public participation.
Contemporary discussions in American schools of citizenship education focus on the processes of civic engagement. This focus is now regulated to the point at which it has gained popular traction, to the extent that many high schools and colleges now require specific civic engagement – read “volunteerism” – criteria for graduation. However, the vast literature that exists is often blind to alternative notions of public participation, focusing instead on traditional, typically masculine, procedural notions of civic responsibility such as voting, philanthropy, and volunteerism. These “civic engagement” practices help form citizens as subjects, and, as such, require critical attention.
Standing in the face of these conservative, neoliberal traditions of civic engagement are many youth engaging in practices that are considered artistic, but not civically engaging or political. These practices include, but are not limited to, graffiti, spoken word poetry, and many others. This paper will theorize these practices as alternative citizenship identifications.
*****************************
Artistic In(ter)ventions: Pain, Pleasure, and Graffiti as an Agonistic Politics of the Performative
Graffiti as an art form has experienced the double move which Foucault referenced in History of Sexuality, Volume 1: An Introduction; it is censored, yet experiences a profusion of utterances transnationally. I will explore graffiti as an expression of urban youth in a liminal state, experiencing the pain of subjectivication in urban life and the pleasures of subversive political expression.
This paper will consider the practice of graffiti as a politics of the performative (Butler) in light of the conditions of agonistic democracy (Mouffe). Butler discusses individual and collective responsibility, summarized in Precarious Life:
Those who commit acts of violence are surely responsible for them; but they are not dupes or mechanisms of an impersonal social force, but agents with responsibility. On the other hand, these individuals are formed, and we would be making a mistake if we reduced their actions to purely self-generative acts of will of symptoms of individual pathology or “evil.” (p. 15)
This should be contextualized by Mouffe’s theory of agonistic democracy, summarized in The Return of the Political:
When we accept that every identity is relational and that the condition of existence of every identity is the affirmation of a difference, the determination of an ‘other’ that is going to play the role of a ‘constitutive outside’, it is possible to understand how antagonisms arise. (p. 2)
This paper will offer a textual reading of the practice of graffiti in an attempt to explode the limits of what is traditionally thought of as political participation.
Just to show everyone that I am indeed engaged in something called academic work, here's some thoughts I've had on graffiti that are the result of my research so far.
Butler and Graffiti: Identification and Subjectivity
Graffiti in some form or another is as old as humanity. Examples can be found in the caves in Lascaux, France, later in Pompeii, Italy, and frequently in contemporary bathroom stalls. However, graffiti as it is popularly understood, spray painted images on urban surfaces, developed in the late 1960s and early 1970s in Philadelphia, then New York. It has been a text-based art form (which is why it has become institutionalized largely through graphic design departments within art schools), but is now transitioning to refer to a particular style of art, bleeding from the streets onto the internet. In some ways, the internet (often a fleeting space of presence and disappearance) is more permanent than the street, betraying a desire for stability in an art world under constant erasure.
Graffiti is clearly an embodied process. The body acts, the paint does not simply appear on the wall. From whence does this drive come, to engage in illegal activity in order to see a name in public? In popular discourses it appears that the graffiti artist is merely a vandal, an anti-social actor in opposition to the status quo. There is certainly some of that within the broad, worldwide movement of graffiti or street art. However, as an identity, graffiti cannot be so essentialized. Understood through Marx’s concept of alienation, graffiti as an identificatory practice becomes clearer. In an advanced capitalistic society, such as the United States, the extraction of surplus labor, mass production, and the profit motive combine and give rise to subjects alienated from their own labor, and in the conditions of hypercapitalism, labor is life itself. Closed out of viable economies due to racism, lack of education, and other structural barriers, such alienation perhaps quickly leads to abjection. Graffiti arose given these conditions as a means to literally state: I am here, I am alive, look at me! In this case, the subject “give[s] an account…because someone has asked me to, and that someone has power delegated from an established system of justice.” Shut out of the media, many inner-city youth answered the state on the only publicly accessible platforms they could: the walls and subway cars of the city.
Very quickly, though, the state responded with violence, as graffiti is outside of what is considered a productive citizenship. New York City’s Metro Transit Authority (MTA) noticed a decline in ridership. When the MTA conducted surveys to find out why, the most common response was due to the high levels of crime taking place on the subway; in fact, many city residents and other potential riders stated that they thought that most of the crime taking place in the city was happening on the subway. This was not accurate. The presence of graffiti gave the impression that no one was in charge of the city and combined with many other issues the city was forced to act. Graffiti was blamed as creating an atmosphere of anarchy – and graffiti was anthropomorphized, becoming the precursor to the disembodied, subjectless “war on terror” begun after September 11th. The state struck back, erasing graffiti and jailing artists. The battle had begun and offered a new method of subjectivation. The graffiti artist as guerilla fighter was born.
What began as a public petition for recognition is now a right of passage for anti-establishment youth, feeding into the perception of graffiti as vandalism. Regardless, something more was happening. The development of graffiti is often lumped into/with the development of hip hop. However, graffiti has equal origins in both punk and hip hop cultures, which share more than most give credit for. Early crossovers, such as the Beastie Boys (originally a punk band), and collaborations, such as Aerosmith with Run DMC, Onyx with Biohazard, Anthrax with both UTFO and Public Enemy illustrate how closely linked the two cultures were (are?). The “Do It Yourself” (DIY) aesthetic of both punk and hip hop influenced early graffiti. Racial politics, however, cloud the issue; our propensity to reduce graffiti to an African American folk art is troubled when we learn that many of the major artists of the early years were not Black. This common origin, though, is also unsatisfying because many artists claimed no allegiance to either culture, particularly once the art form began to spread around the world. This simply highlights the complexity of the movement and that in our attempts to write histories of it foreclose much of what actually happened. We are lucky that many of the early artists are still alive to give their accounts, but as Butler reminds us, they cannot give complete accounts of themselves or the art.
Public Space, Public Face: Neoliberalism, Globalism, Localism
Given the profusion of graffiti art and artists around the world and the rise to dominance of neoliberal policies governing public space, the penalties for being prosecuted under the law are increasing. What used to be a minor crime now carries with it fines in the thousands of dollars and possible jail time for “repeat offenders” in many cities around the globe. With the stakes so high, graffiti is finding other ways to live. It, and by it I mean to summarize the art world of graffiti into the word graffiti, is finding new avenues, new ways to
…call forth a public which has yet to exist. Here calling forth this public would be part of a process called democracy: since we would reject the reduction of democracy to a mode of governance based upon counting votes, tallying numbers, etcetera… This process of constructing or calling forth or creating a public would also require some struggle, some disagreement… It would require fighting for ground lost and ground which has yet to be imagined. (16Beaver, Down by Numbers, in Art as a Public Issue)
This struggle and disagreement is part of a radical democratic project articulated by Chantal Mouffe. While traditional politics leaves little room for graffiti, agonistic politics offers a site/time for graffiti to participate as citizenship, and the internet is where much of this is now happening.
Much has been said about the internet and its ability to replace traditional public forums. However, replacing public physical space with public virtual space is not very satisfying. We do not yet live our entire lives on-line, regardless of the clarion calls from doom and gloom media pundits yearning for an earlier, simpler time. Every time we go outside, even if it is to make the drive to work, we pass through public space. Reliance on the internet as the sole site to voice dissent and opposition actually plays into neoliberal politics as an easy, violence-free way to diffuse the masses. Having a million people send an email to the White House is still less powerful a statement than having 20,000 people gather on the Mall in the United States capital. Permits are required, and as experience in Seattle (1999), New York (2000 Democratic Convention), and Minneapolis/St. Paul (2008, Rage Against the Machine prevented from playing on stage outside the Republican National Convention, police citing “safety concerns) shows, the permits act to confine popular protest and to justify violent state responses once the terms are exceeded. Commerce is interrupted, which sets off the first domino in a long line that culminates in tear gas and rubber bullets. More and more, graffiti is being understood, at least by its practitioners and admirers, through these conditions.
The 2007 documentary Bomb It highlighted recent trends, while also providing a strong historical backdrop to the movement. Jon Reiss, the producer and director, also focused on the global implications of graffiti as an artistic movement, showcasing global commonalities while simultaneously demonstrating the particular local styles and politics. While graffiti seems to have common elements around the globe, it is clear that graffiti in New York is not the same as graffiti in Los Angeles, Rio de Janeiro, or Capetown.
In Paris, stenciler Blek le Rat discussed how New York style writing would not fit the Paris architecture, so he helped create a unique Parisian style. This is contradicted from within, though, when Reiss interviews minority/immigrant youth from Paris’ urban exurbs, who take a less artistic view and reiterate the value of graffiti in asserting an identity in an alienating environment. Blek le Rat wants art to serve a social purpose (speaking for) and the anonymous Arab-French youth want to say “fuck you” to the system that others them (speaking from).
Conclusion
As an art form, graffiti is well established and has been since at least the 1980s when Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat ruled the New York City art scene. However, the civic value of graffiti remains contested…sort of. Within the movement it is clear that the motivations of artists are to perform a type of “urban intervention,” while similar thoughts outside the movement are almost nonexistent. We are so wrapped up in neoliberal thought that “common sense” views of property, space (public and private), and the centrality of commerce relegate graffiti to the vandalism dustbin. My project, as I am beginning to conceptualize it, is to conduct field research in order to figure out what exactly it is that graffiti artists are doing, then work on incorporating that into political and educational theory.

on RIMATARA