Decades before the term street art was being uttered from ad executives' mouths, Blek Le Rat was bouncing about Paris throwing up political, thoughtful and humorous stencils... Banksy was quoted as saying, "Every time I think I've painted something slightly original, I find out that Blek Le Rat has done it as well. Only twenty years earlier..."

A new book on Blek Le Rat is due out this winter along with the solo show 60/30 at 941 Geary here in San Francisco to celebrate the 30 years that Blek has been creating works in the street. We emailed him a few questions below to see what he's been up to since we last spoke with him in '08. -Trippe

In the 1960s children used to read a lot of comic strips; I took on the name of Blek le Rat in reference to an Italian comic strip called Blek le Roc. I changed it into Rat, because I painted rats and the word "rat" is the anagram of the word "art" (something Banksy hadn't thought of!).

In the 1980s I drew all of my stencils, nowadays it depends on the stencil. Often I still draw the stencils because I am inspired by photographs that are not of a quality that lends itself to the stencil making process. I also use xeroxed copies on occasion, but not very often. I like the "handmade" aspect of the stencil, in both the preparation and the final image. Stenciling, though an antiquated medium, also has a very modern look and is ideal for street art, which is why so many street artists employ it. I also prefer black and white—I do not like colorful stencils much.

Street art is ephemeral and it is very important to keep a memory of what has been done in the street. It is important to me that my fine art reflects the street or urban/public landscape in some way. I try to reproduce the ambience of the street where I often work at night when shades of black and white are dominant. I use the same characters in the street as well as in the work I produce intended for the gallery.

No. I don't work in the streets of Paris anymore because I know each and every inch of Paris. I love to work in places I don't know because these locations allow me to get in touch with a new atmosphere, new lights, and new people. If I continued to work in Paris I would have the instinct to do the same thing over and over again, without making any progress.

Originally published on Fecal Face February 18, 2008

Sept 11 Time Cover by Lyle Owerko

     On September 7th 2001 while on a plane flying back to New York from Dar Es Salaam the previous 5 weeks flashed through my mind. I had been photographing everything from elephants fighting each other, to documenting street clashes to driving my friends through a storm of tear gas and burning tires during a riot. The reason to go back to New York was to shoot an Ad campaign. Part of the trip home meant changing planes in Johannesburg. The layover continued my preoccupation of being torn about flying home. While sitting in the transit concourse I watched a molten orange African sunset burn an unforgettable hole in sky outside the lounge windows. Every day in Africa delivers a unique visual which makes it so hard to leave. It is a constant razor's edge of tragedy and beauty. Leaving was if I was abandoning all that was poignant and tangible in my life. Yet, I felt I had to be in New York for a purpose.

Four days later, just after 8:47am on September 11th found me sprinting through the neighborhood of Tribeca chasing down the source of the worst sound I've ever heard in my life. The final destination was the World Trade Center complex, now marred with a gaping hole in the north tower. Within minutes of reaching the complex another plane began its suicide approach. It struck the Towers looming above me with a punch beyond description. In defiance of the fireball and ensuing shower of glass and steel I managed to click off a series of pictures. Within 10 minutes of leaving my apartment I shot the image that made the cover of Time magazine.

Over the next couple of hours I filled multiple rolls of film with assorted images of people leaping from the Towers and absolute carnage beyond words. Most of those images have remained in my archive silently frozen in memory of that day. What the images will never convey is the aural soundscape I have inside my head. It's hard to reiterate the screams and shouts of horror that erupted from the crowds of onlookers as they viewed the ballet of death occurring above the street that morning. Even now, which is over six years past the event, my ears scan any sound I hear out of the normal in New York. Is it a shout of pain? Is it danger? Did that sonic boom come from a jet in peril? Everything goes through an internal assessment filter making sure my perception is right. The day of 9/11/2001 completely stole my innocence, as it did with many others. Though I've seen many horrible things before then and many after, I've never been in a situation where I felt so helpless to contribute. There are many instances where I've passed up on taking pictures to simply to err on the side of helping, but that day was overwhelming. All I could manage to do was click the shutter to document something I had no cognition of and probably will never fully assess. I remember the policemen yelling at me that morning and encouraging me to keep shooting and keep documenting what was going on around us. They understood the importance. In the images of that morning I hoped to capture the dignity and grace of the people who jumped and to somehow define the decision they made with integrity and peace.

They are not easy pictures to look at, especially when our daily world is an oversaturated media landscape of manufactured realities and the new rising class of "celebritocray" - where disingenuous shock and awe on camera leads to fame and fortune. Stepping out of that bubble and looking at the tangible "real" of the actual moment between life and death is very hard, it forces us to come to terms with so many things including our own mortality. I simply hope these pictures pass on through the generations as an informative tool for future members of this planet to see and understand that all life is precious and beautiful. And yet to grasp how easily innocence can be snatched away in the blink of a second. -Lyle Owerko

© Lyle Owerko, all rights reserved

owerko.com
wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyle_Owerko

Small Moon, 5 x 3 inches. Gouache and spray paint on postcard, 2011

JT: I grew up in Colorado near Boulder. Until I was aged 14 my dad was a pastor in Christian churches. The earlier church where he was assistant pastor was very much like the famous "Evangelical" churches that are featured in the documentary "Jesus Camp". There were miracles, spectacles, speaking in tongues, a pool for baptizing. Sometimes church members would line up around the stage and my dad would lay his hands on their heads and pray. When this had gone on long enough, the person would be knocked over by the power of God, falling into the waiting arms of deacons to lay on the floor crying from the experience. I was suspicious, so one time I got in the line. My dad put his hands on my head, I think my arms were in the air, and then I fell.

There I was, laying flat on my back asking myself if I had been knocked over by supernatural force or what? I went up knowing I was going to fall so was this a real thing? I had my doubts. Somehow I always felt like I was being tricked, and I still feel like that sometimes. Now I mostly feel like other people are being tricked and I'm not, but I catch myself back on the other side of that line occasionally. When my dad started his own church the theatrics were toned down a little, but the belief was notched up. No fakers. I think I could fill a book with the stories from my childhood and the lessons I learned from questioning my surroundings, this is just a teaser. My love for skateboarding and punk rock lead me to the Bay Area and I moved to LA to attend grad school at UCLA.

Still Life with Sculptural Element (Water), 60 x 60 inches. Oil on canvas, 2010

JT: I love LA. People are very free to express themselves here, and not just in a politically correct, socially accepted way. Anything goes. "Beto's" is my favorite food truck. It's on Jefferson near Burnside from 7:00-11:00pm and I highly recommend their tacos al pastor. The food is not sketchy.

JT: UCLA was really great. I pretty much stuck with the painting faculty, they offer a genuine painting program where you go into the studio and work. I think it's what people expect from MFA programs but rarely find. I was very inspired by Lari Pittman, Roger Herman, and Don Suggs and worked with them repeatedly. UCLA a real gem! The library is AMAZING!!! Because I was a grad student and UCLA is a research institution they let me check out as many books as I want and for like 2 months at a time. I still have a lot out even now! I'll have to return them soon though as I'm moving to NYC.

Outer Space Series 1, 12 x 8 inches. Gouache, graphite on gessoed paper, 2011

JT: I was still in school for the last show, and I had nothing to do except paint! It was so nice. There were paintings in that show that I really felt were good and others that I was suspicious of, in spite of the ample time I had to work. Now I have to work full-time to pay for my studio practice and bills and every moment I have to make art is precious. It gives me a different appreciation of the dedication I have to this conversation of art. I feel very privileged to make art with my spare time. It doesn't hurt that I enjoy my work at the wood shop very much as well. I'm glad to do both kinds of work.

It’s been great! We really love it in Los Angeles...quite quickly it felt like home here, which was something we didn't expect! But the transition was really smooth for us. After a few months to settle, and just once we wrapped our heads around some of the small differences like allowing 40 minuets to get somewhere - even if its 5 miles away -and learning to use inches and feet over centimeters and meters!

There is definitely more pluses than minuses! I think the main pluses are the weather and the people. We have met so many great people here that have become very close friends. And the constant sunshine and blue skies is just ridiculous! I don't think we will ever get sick of that!

At the moment, yes. We can definitely see ourselves being here for many more years...But you never know what the universe has in store.

It was different for both of us. I started painting graffiti in the mid 1990's. I had been painting pieces for years before returning to Art School and learned how to paint with acrylics.

Myla on the other hand, had been painting with a brush for most of her life, and it wasn't until we met that she started using spray paint.

I'm not sure... We really love painting graffiti and it’s such a big part of our overall influence and style. Painting graffiti letters is so important to us, and we love painting big characters on walls too. The way we go about painting with spray paint is similar to our brush paintings, but also completely different.

The characters are the same, and the content, but outside we paint with heavy lines and strong bold colors. Whereas on our paintings with acrylic, its a lot softer and harmonious approach. With subtle colors and no outlines...and we love working that way too!

San Francisco Art Institute graduate, Damon Soule's newest paintings take what he's been doing for years further into a mind bending reality. Beautiful.

FFDG is a small space, so it's a great place to put together a cohesive experience. That's all you really have to worry about.

Aw man, that's always hard. I usually just describe it as crazy paintings. If I was painting things that I could describe in a simple sound bite, I would be disappointed with myself.

NYC is great because you can always get something to eat nearby anytime of day. Portland is cool because people are relaxed and know how to have fun. No one'ss really trying very hard there which I find refreshing.

I love the community vibe in the Bay Area. It feels like things are really happening which I didn't get in NYC. That may be just my perception but since that's how I feel, I had to come back here. As far as I'm concerned SF rules! However, I like to keep it fresh and that means not getting too comfortable.

Keep it personal and challenge yourself. If you get bored, flip it upside down. Life is short, so don't get stuck in a rut.

My name is Water McBeer owner and founder of The Water McBeer Gallery, a small gallery space dedicated to art excellence. I have also been a prominent art dealer for over 28 years. I received my BA in business economics and my MFA in art criticism from the San Francisco Art Institute and went on to become the most successful art dealer in America. I was raised by my teenage parents in a small hippie commune in Northern California hence the name Water. At the age of 14 I inherited my distant grandfather's extraordinary art collection of over 500 pieces from the most important artists of the 20th century. I own the most valuable art collection of any private collector in San Francisco and my extraordinary Self-confidence, determination and belief in personal freedom have made me the most successful art dealer and gallery owner in America.

Well, I've done just about everything, made billions of dollars traveled the world, won a game of golf against Bill Clinton, partied with every celebrity, own 15 cars, a 195 foot yacht, 3 mansions and so it was the only thing left to do.

My grandfather collected everything from Van Gough to Duchamp and over his lifetime built up an impressive collection among the collections trophies is Pablo Picasso self-portrait yo, Picasso. His collection was worth 1.5 billion dollars. He had an eye for great art. I not only inhereted his collection, but his impeccable sense of taste.

Sadly San Francisco stands no chance against LA or NYC. It is my goal to show world class artists in my gallery to highlight San Francisco's artists among the rest of the art world so that they may shine bright in a sea of art darkness. I am here to save San Francisco from its artistic doom and stimulate the art economy with my wealth and power.

I foresee a future of endless possibilities for the Water McBeer Gallery and its artists. I am investing in the future of the San Francisco art community, a future of great wealth and boundless creative expression.

I do it all in the computer.

The print with a portion of the proceeds being donated to the San Francisco LGBT Community Center

Photoshop. I could probably do it in illustrator way better, but illustrator and I don’t get along.

I don’t mean to sound like a geek, but it involves a series of math that I have to do. There’s a tool in Photoshop under the analysis menu called record measurements, where you can record each pixel. I lasso one row of pixels and it tells me how many pixels it is. Let’s say it measures 256px across in Photoshop and my actual canvass is 55.5 inches wide. I’d divide the two numbers; find out how big each pixel is, and then make custom rulers out of tape that equal those measurements. I make an x/y axis and cover the piece in tape - I don’t grid it out in pencil. I use an x-acto to cut the lines out on the x/y axis, pull it out, and paint it in. Eventually, I got to the point where I was making them like a manual screen-print, I would see where the color would be and paint huge blotches to save me a lot of time. It’s all math.

The lines wouldn’t be perfect because all types of weird shit can happen to lenses since they can get bumped or curved.

That’s a lie. This girl I was hooking up with at the time had this TV show on the style network and was friends with the rapper R.A. Thornurn who was the produer and co-writer of Bad Biology and I knew of him since I was doing hip-hop music at the time, believe it or not. Anyways she asked me if I wanted to audition and I thought I’d give it a try even though I didn’t really think I’d get it, but I ended up getting the role which was cool.

Chief Sneed. I’ve had like 7 different names and they’re all bad.

Hell yeah. You can actually find some beats I produced for a record that we put Jay Z vocals over - which everyone and their mother has already done. Rob Swift from the X-ecutioners did all the cuts on it, which is cool. It’s called Native American Gangster because the vocals were taken from the American Gangster record that Jay Z did and the fact that I’m a quarter Cherokee Indian. My family lives on a reservation in North Carolina.

David Young V’s show “Make an Effort” opens Saturday July 9th, 7pm at White Walls Gallery on 835 Larkin St (@Geary), San Francisco.

Yeah, my father is David and it goes back five generations, but it got restarted, so it really goes back about eight people. The original David Young III got killed so his brother named his son after this guy. So the son became the first in my line.

No, there wasn’t a lot of artistic people in my family.

It’s all I really know, I’ve been doing art for so long...I’ve always wanted to do it. I’ve been doing it my whole life and I never want to stop. I was always drawing on the backs of my papers and on tests during class. I loved free drawing sessions, I always had fun in art class. I never really liked art projects, I always just liked drawing whatever I wanted to draw. Honestly I don’t think I was ever that good at it, but I just enjoyed it. I didn’t decide to take it seriously until I was in college, I didn’t even know what a fine artist was but if it let me do anything I wanted to do, then I’ll try to be a fucking fine artist.

Well when I was 18 I was doing these Micron pen drawings but they were totally different in nature, they were much more intricate than the work I do now, and they were more fantasy based. After that, I really got into abstract art using charcoals as well as murals. I was really into de Kooning, Pollock, Basquiat, Picasso, Braque, Kandinsky and other 20th Century Abstract art. I was obsessed with that for a number of years and I was just continually making abstract work.

I'm Nick Mann, I live and work in Oakland, CA when I'm not traveling. I'm currently 23 years old.

I got into visual art through playing music and growing up in the Pacific Northwest. I've been playing guitars since I was 10. Painting has channeled some of the same creative visions/moods that I previously expressed through music. After I had slowed down my post-high school musical output, I wanted to change my creative process. Painting and drawing both indoors and outdoors gave me room to breathe artistically. I really got into making visual artwork probably around the age of 19.

My ideals are to live a balanced, well-traveled life in harmony with our universe and mother earth. I think that it's important to let our creative visions grow and be open to change. When we put a block on these visions or translate them into symbols of what's hip and safe, problems arise within our souls. My work is made through a process of intuition and mistakes. Through this intuitive process, each piece has potential to develop and grow on its own. Once I finish a piece, I look at it as a manifested symbol of my subconciousness at any specific moment or phase in my life. Upon the completion of a piece, I am also able to rationalize its meaning and relevance to our universe. The best art speaks a universal language that communicates to beings of every culture in and out of this world. A balanced, holistic life is contingent on listening to our subconscious side while coupling it with rational insight. This dichotomy is illustrated universally with Lunar (female) and Solar (male) energies.

Recently: Big Blood, Michael Gira, Thou, John Fahey, Michael Hurley, Des Ark, Godspeed, Diane Cluck, Sun Ra, Blind Blake, American primitivist guitar music, world music. I play guitar on breaks from painting.

Interview By: Daniel Rolnik - daniel[at]fecalface.com

I was the creator, executive producer and production designer on “Teacher’s Pet.” During the series and the feature film, I was there every day working with my wonderful crew. Originally, I drew and painted the original characters, backgrounds, etc., to establish the look and feel of the series. Then I oversaw my amazing team of artists to follow and execute the episodes. I worked closely with my director Tim Bjorklund who wanted to make sure the series looked like my hand-painted work, so all the backgrounds were painted on canvas. Tim was an amazing animator. I am not an animator. Our storyboard artists, timing directors, etc. created a template and we sent them oversees to our talented animation studios, who would sent over rough animation. We edited, recorded, and produced music and dialogue here in the States. Does that answer your question?

When I started back in the ‘90s, Nickelodeon actually came to me asking if I had any interesting ideas for an animation series. I lied and said yes, then came up with a dozen ideas to pitch. We actually made two fully animated pilots for the same series “Louie n Louie,” but unfortunately, they weren’t picked up. Then I did decided at that point (after doing well in illustration) that I would concentrate on pitching for TV shows and moved back to LA from New York, where I got an agent who got me meetings with TV executives. How do you pitch a series? You sing and dance and put your heart on your sleeve. Cartwheels help too.

Does it have to have “weird” in the title? Is “Memento” weird? I love that movie. I love how it is set up and how it is played out. I often feel like the main character in Memento.

No. I don’t like to sketch things out. I need to feel spontaneous, vulnerable, and organic when I create. The last thing I want to do is work everything out and just follow through. That said, I draw in my sketchbook all the time. I work through my themes in my sketchbooks, but I only use them as an emotional template. So I put ideas down and see what stays with me. But I don’t usually paint those images directly on canvas. In fact, I have about 50 sketchbooks that have been archived recently, made since I moved back to LA in 1997.