Inside Vancouver
The Artful Dodger
By Danielle Egan published Apr 1, 2008
Adrenaline surging, I pedal down a syringe-dotted alley, trying to keep up with a notorious artist—or criminal, depending on your point of view—whose real name you’ll probably never know. A tall, slim young man wearing khaki coveralls with “Public Service” stencilled across the back, he swings right on Columbia Street and stops at his third and final target of the night: the wall of a pawnshop in the heart of the Downtown Eastside. A VPD patrol car speeds by, its red strobes briefly casting a ghoulish light on at least a dozen emaciated junkies—including one lying on the pavement in the fetal position—and a couple of beefy men in leather jackets.
From a crate attached to the rear of his bike, the 26-year-old takes a bucket of homemade flour-and-water paste. Deftly he affixes to the wall a black-and-white poster of a battered-looking teddy bear, signed “wh.” A ghostly-pale woman looks in the direction of the poster, but her glassy-eyed stare appears not to register the crime she’s just witnessed. Thanks to an anti-graffiti bylaw enacted in 1994, and ramped up in 2002 with the formation of the city’s graffiti-management program, the guerrilla artist, who calls himself weakhand, could be fined up to $2,000 per poster and criminally charged with mischief for his roughly 70 previous offences, including his biggest hit to date: a giant Main Street billboard advertising Lotto 6/49, which he covered with his own portrait of a woman blowing a kiss.
Why take the risk? “I treat it like a job,” he says, after we’ve found a park bench. “I care about Vancouver, especially the Downtown Eastside. It seems to get worse down there every day.” A lifelong resident of the city, weakhand dedicates much of his free time (he works full-time, but won’t say where or doing what) and his impressive airbrush skills to creating one-of-a-kind posters and installing them on our streets.
Like other notable Vancouver street artists—including Office Supplies Incorporated, Champ, Ninja9ine, the dark, and cameraman—weakhand uses public spaces as both outdoor canvas and corkboard. Sometimes the goal is to inject beauty and whimsy into homogeneous or decrepit spaces; other times it’s to critique consumerism, homelessness, drug addiction, the impending Olympics, or the city’s crackdown on street art.
“So much visual garbage is crammed down our throats every day,” he says. “The sheer amount of corporate billboards is totally sickening.”
Street artists’ posters, paint stencils, stickers, and graffiti are typically removed within weeks, if not days, but photos survive on websites like Flickr.com’s Vancouver Graffiti Pool and on international sites like the New York–based Wooster Collective, which recently featured weakhand in its best-of category. The notoriety is flattering, says weakhand, but the ultimate rush is in connecting with other citizens, uncensored. “I believe many of the people who hold power contribute nothing to the community and use their power in the wrong ways,” says the third-generation visual artist, who takes his images mostly from Internet stock photos. His stylish posters are sometimes contextualized with phrases like “Talk less, do more” and resemble slick ads, but they’re properly “subvertising” because there’s no product for sale and they challenge viewers to contemplate their environment more deeply.
“The more good quality work out there, the better this city will be,” he says. “A city without writing and drawings on the walls isn’t a healthy city. Going back to the cave man, we’ve always painted on walls.”
The act of adorning public spaces has been a political phenomenon since Roman gladiators tagged the Colosseum. U.S. activists in the 1970s reclaimed the streets with phrases like “Dick Nixon before he dicks you,” and punk rockers, street gangs, and citizens searching for lost cats use stickers, posters, paint, sidewalk chalk, and Sharpie scrawls as cheap advertising. Nowadays, some guerrilla artists have attained rock-star status, like L.A.–based Shepard Fairey and prolific U.K. stencil artist Banksy, whose provocative works can sell for six figures, even as the authorities scurry to erase him from public spaces.
“What does it say about our governments that they’re not just ignoring the writing on the walls, they’re going out of their way to destroy it?” asks weakhand, before heading home for the night. “We’ve been beaten back by the city. But I’m an optimist. And when I don’t do it, I don’t feel right. I feel pissed off at myself.”
Recent Comments
Discussed
I don't have something against this guy. But I somehow can't understand the point of their life. I mean they are painting graffiti, riding with a bmx or a skate board, but what's the point of all that stuff? I was doing such things in my childhood, but not when I become an adult. But sometimes it is interesting to read about such persona's so thanks for the great article indeed. I will be waiting for more interesting ones from you in the nearest future too.
Sincerely,
Tim Nollton from payday loans
