The Baxter house is located at the
end of the street. This house sits farther back from the curb than the other
houses. It is almost difficult to see from the road without peering behind the
deformed oak tree that has obscured it for years. Even so, the Baxter house
stands out from the other houses on the street. It is tall and white. However,
this white is no longer pristinely white, but a dingy grayish cram color. Long
vines hang from the tattered roof. The Baxter house is two stories tall and has
a large yard in the back that has never been mowed. The other houses on the
street are a mere one story and have been painted a variety of colors. The
newer, single story properties all appear to have been built around the same time;
the yards mostly being of the same size, and the houses appearing to be clones
of one another. Aside from the Baxter house at the end, this street is a
perfect slice of middle America. The inhabitants of the other houses wonder who
lives in the ancient, dilapidated house at the end of the street.
What makes the other houses on the
street stand out visually from the Baxter house?
I am writing in response to response
to the article “Protecting our public spaces” in issue 14, published this
spring in it, the author claims that “all graffiti is public spaces.” I would
like to point out that many people believe that graffiti is an art from that
can benefit our public spaces just as much as sculpture, fountains, or other,
more accepted art forms.
People who object to graffiti
usually do so more because of where it is, not what it is. They argue, as your
author does, that posting graffiti in public places constitutes an illegal act
of property damage. But the location of such graffiti should not prevent the
images themselves from being considered genuine art.
I would argue that graffiti is the
ultimate public art form. Spray paint is a medium unlike any other. Though
graffiti, the entire world has become a canvas. No one has to pay admission or
travel to a museum to see this kind of art. The artists usually do not receive
payment for their efforts. These works of art dotting the urban landscape are
available, free of charge, to everyone who passes by.
To be clear, I do not consider
random words or names sprayed on stop signs to be art. Plenty of graffiti is
just vandalism, pure and simple. However, there is also graffiti that is
breathtaking in its intricate detail, its realism, or its creativity. It takes
great talent to create such involved designs with spray paint.
Are these creators not artists
just because they use a can of spray paint instead of a paintbrush, or because they
cover the side of a building rather than a canvas?
To declare that all graffiti is
vandalism, and nothing more, is an overly simplistic statement that I find out
of place in such a thoughtful publication as your magazine. Furthermore,
graffiti is not going anywhere, so might as well find a way to live with it and
enjoy its benefits. One option could be to make a percentage of public space,
such as walls or benches in parks, open to graffiti artists. By doing this, the
public might feel like part owners of these works of art, rather than just the
victims of a crime.
In this passage, the writer argues
that graffiti
