Around this time last year, Shepard Fairey was catching a lot of buzz for his trip to New York City, where he put up a mural in the west village. It was a nice piece of work, to be sure, done by an artist recognized the world over. However, nothing--in life, arts, culture, or most certainly in the streets--is permanent. Who knows how many hours it lasted in its original state, but it only took a couple days for the sticker slaps and tags being thrown up on it to get some press (including, of all things, a Target sticker). To his credit, Shepard was cool with the transformation of his work, which was, after all, influenced by and therefore also a product of the same culture that was destroying it.
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I decided to take a visit and see what had become of this wall. I don't know which artist(s) work this is, nor when it went up, but there it is.I think I like it. It grabs the attention of people and casts a haunting image on the reflective surfaces around it. The characters are an expressive bunch, attempting to smile amidst the grind of the City.
