The Best Art is on the Streets

Koons made me do it. White Trash at Luhring Augustine Bushwick.

Several Saturdays ago, I spent some time in Bushwick. Bushwick embodies an artistic communitarianism that combats and revolts against Trumpist, fascist practices. Every surface of every building is covered in renegade art that’s as good as you’ll find in any gallery, art that is — by its legally dubious nature — inherently political.

Bushwick has plenty of galleries, too, like the new Brooklyn outpost of Chelsea stronghold Luhring Augustine. Perhaps this marks the beginning of the end for the neighborhood, because more luxe galleries will open in turn, causing property values to rise. Once the first Starbucks opens, gentrification is complete. Full disclosure: I love many of the high-end galleries that populate Manhattan, but I also hope Bushwick retains its street cred and independent artistic spirt. That's why Luhring Augustine is the ideal ambassador of Manhattan gallery culture to Brooklyn, because it doesn’t have some of the associations its other blue chip counterparts do (Mnuchin Gallery — owned by the father of Trump’s campaign finance chief Steven Mnuchin — comes to mind immediately) and they're willing to curate shows appealing to Brooklynite sensibilities. 

Luhring Augustine’s current exhibition is a series of works from Larry Clark’s personal collection. Entitled White Trash, the pieces skew toward camp manifested through Clark’s appreciation of both high and low art. In a world where low art is often dismissed by cultural elites, this represents a major victory. White Trash brings the work of Christopher Wool, Jeff Koons — who I’ve reconsidered my opinion on after looking through his donkey mirror, Ralph Gibson, Jason Polan and even a work by an unknown artist all in the same room. It’s revolutionary and iconoclastic, sensual and completely informed by New York on one hand and pop culture on the other. Perhaps it’s not so strange that Luhring Augustine opened in Bushwick, after all.

I found the influences of White Trash, however, on Bushwick’s streets, the neighborhood’s best, largest gallery. After perusing White Trash, I met a woman for coffee and she showed me around the best graffiti walls in the neighborhood afterward. The tour was wonderful, not just because my guide was attractive and a fine conversationalist, but she understood how important and necessary street art is in our current cultural climate.

Rae BK

“Low” (a term I dislike) art is more necessary than high art at this moment. Decadent commissions represent the class that likes to repress and suppress. Commodity art is fine and fun, however, when it’s self-aware and self-referential — in that case, more power to it, because earnesty is rarer by the second and there’s no shame in admitting that one not only has a good eye, but is also a keen marketer. Graffiti and street art are anti-commodity, more impactful and startling to the average person because of their in-your-face accessibility. They are art democratized, available for everyone, rich and poor, to see. Graffiti provokes. It scares the suburbanites, the squares and the sheriff. Graffiti is considered “bad” by these groups, and that’s why it’s good.

The street art in Bushwick is Grade A. Nowhere in New York has better graffiti. Certain blocks of the Lower East Side can try to stake a claim, but Bushwick graffiti gets buffed less often and the proliferation of large, empty spaces leaves ample room for new pieces. Bushwick is the home to the heir apparent of Basquiat. Granted, Basquiat had and will never have any peers, but Rae BK’s primitive, urgent drawings and texts are not only recognizable on the street, but have a sizable following on Instagram, 119k at last count. Their ability to market their work, yet stay true to a street art aesthetic and ethos, makes me wonder how Basquiat would have thrived in the digital age. Much like Basquiat made the transition to the canvas, I’d love one of Rae BK’s original pieces for my apartment.

Ergo for GumShoe, whose paintings critique the male gaze. They paint lascivious legs that beguile the eye, yet reclaim female agency by putting them out in the open, by daring to exist and express. Their work is also a statement against a repressed society than cannot openly deal with sex, asserting that if we could express ourselves honestly, our world would be a healthier, happier place. All these layers found in a street painting that merges together Warhol’s soup can and a pair of legs that resemble the lamp from A Christmas Story.

Resa Piece

Then there’s Resa Piece, who did an excellent throw-up on a Dunkin’ Donuts on Knickerbocker Avenue, blending art and advertising in an anti-promotional promotional piece. Sure, we all want to support local businesses, but Resa Piece’s (real name, Theresa Kim) painted lady looks so happy with the coffee she’s about to drink and the donut she’s about to consume that it’s hard not to go in and pick up a cup of dark roast and an Apple Fritter. Some businesses might call this vandalism; Dunkin’ Donuts should thank her for driving up their profits.

These artists and pieces are a small smattering of Bushwick’s talent. Art is everywhere, brightening up this former industrial area and preventing gentrification one piece of graffiti at a time.