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.
The writer concludes this passage
by
This is the age of machine.
Machines are everywhere, in the fields, in the factory, in the home, In the
street, in the city, in the country, everywhere. To fly, it is not necessary to
have wings; there are machines. To swim under the sea, it is not necessary to
have gills; there are machines. To kill our fellowmen in over-whelming numbers,
there are machines. Petrol machines alone provide ten times more power than all
human beings in the world. In the busiest countries, each individual has six
hundred human slaves in his machines.
What
are the consequences of this abnormal power? Before the war, it looked as
though it might be possible, for the first time in history to provide food and
clothing and shelter for the teaming population of the world-every man, woman
and child. This would have been the greatest triumphs of science. And yet, if
you remember, we saw the world crammed, full of food and people hungry. Today,
the leaders are bare and millions, starving. That’s more begin to hum, are we
going to see again more and more food, and people still hungry? For the goods,
it makes the goods, but avoids the consequences.
According
to the passage, which of the following is not necessary to fly?
