“Urban space is the product of conflict. This is so in several incommensurable senses.”[1] Rosalyn Deutsche

In October 2019 in larger cities of Chile, civil protests erupted in response to an increase in Santiago Metro’s subway fare of 30 pesos (34 eurocents). Within a couple of days, these cities (especially Santiago and Valparaíso) were covered with anti-government signs, posters and stickers that were particularly aimed at the security forces. After a few weeks there was not a single pavement, wall (especially public buildings), church, supermarket, bank, free-standing kiosk, fountain or statue which was not covered with slogans against neoliberalism, patriarchy, police brutality and the government, which according to these slogans had blood on its hands. The slogans called on society to rebel and the government to adopt a new constitution. Significantly, all banks, supermarkets and churches welded their entrances and windows with steel sheets and surrounded themselves with ‘fences’ made of fiberboard which protected them against the crowd, but this only created extra surfaces for slogans, posters, stencils and stickers. Tourists were left in no doubt about what and with whom Chilean society was fighting, not least because of the tear gas and loud whistles wherever the police showed up.

            A well-known Chilean rap singer, Ana Tijoux, very quickly recorded a song about the protests with the use of the most popular object in Latin America: a wooden spoon (the protests are called ‘cacerolazo’).[2] The motif of a wooden spoon is therefore constantly present in posters and stencils. Another symbol of the fight is again the figure of Victor Jara, who was murdered during the times of the Pinochet regime, and his phrase “Por el derecho de vivir en paz” [The Right to Live In Peace]. Another heroes of the protests are Mapuche: Camilo Catrillanca, the son of a Mapuche leader murdered by the carabinieros in 2018[3], and Matías Catrileo, who was murdered in 2008.[4] The Mapuche are unsuccessfully trying to regain their native lands, hence their flag became one of visual symbols of the protests, as has the hood – a reference to the traditional Mapuche poncho. 

            Other images from the past also appeared, such as Negro Matapacos – a black dog with a red bandana wrapped around its neck that defended demonstrators against police attacks during the student protests in 2011.[5] The 2019 protests brought another dog–hero, Pablito from Valparaíso, which was run over by a zorillo (skunk) truck driven by carabinieros. The truck owes its name to the fact that it is equipped in a water cannon which sprays harmful chemicals. A week later, Pablito unfortunately died and became an icon of the protests. Another new image is an alien: this is a reference to a WhatsApp voice message captured from Cecilia Morel, the Chilean first lady, who said that the protesters were like an “invasion of aliens.”[6] The stubbornness, courage and creativity of the Chileans are impressive, especially if one takes into account the rising number of victims who have been killed, wounded, blinded, raped or otherwise tortured by police.[7] A characteristic of these protests is that police shot protesters directly in the eyes. By mid-November around 285 civilians had been partially or fully blinded, but the number has certainly increased since then.[8] Therefore, eyes are a motif that is very often repeated on posters and during protests, often with the phrase “Cría pacos que te sacarán los ojos” [Raise cops and they will poke your eyes out], which refers to a proverb, “Cría cuervos y te sacarán los ojos” [Raise crows and they will poke your eyes out], which originally refers to bad parenting. Human rights organizations have so far registered 194 cases of sexual violence towards the detained, including four rapes.[9] This explains the many actions undertaken by women and the slogan “El paco no es maricón es hetero y violador” [A cop is not a faggot, he is a heterosexual rapist].

            The uniqueness of Chilean street art stems from the fact that it filled the entire public space of the larger cities in the face of the conflict with the government. These spaces became public in the full sense of the word.[10] By chance, during the process of editing this book, I personally witnessed the riots, which reassured me that analysis of street art as a measure of social moods is worth undertaking. The concept of this book is not to analyze the aesthetic value of street or urban art: instead, the Authors focus on how it functions in the concrete political reality of particular countries and do not reduce their analysis to activities in public space which might be defined as art. They are interested in the social processes within the cities about which they write. The variety of text in this book makes the reader think contextually about questions related to public space and the expression of conflict.

            Polish street art is relatively well described in the literature and therefore has not been included in this publication.[11] In 2011, Aleksandra Niżyńska published the book Street art jako alternatywna forma debaty publicznej w przestrzeni miejskiej (Street art as an alternative form of public debate in urban space), which is perhaps the closest to what I wanted to achieve in this book.[12] She drafted theoretical frameworks concerning the discussion about what public space is, and she presented various kinds of expressions that show up on streets: from graffiti, through stickers and murals, to performative street art. The author focused on the value of art discourse and is mainly interested in Polish art.[13] Lisa K. Waldner and Betty A. Dobratz wrote an article entitled “Graffiti as a Form of Contentious Political Participation,” which summarizes various aspects of the political character of graffiti.[14] An exhibition entitled Interventionists (2004), organized by the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art, was devoted to many different types of street art; its catalogue was edited by Gregory Sholette and Nato Thompson.[15] In Poland, a post-conference Polish–English book called Street Art: Between Freedom and Anarchy[16] was published in which Jakub Banasiak wrote about the origin of street art, therefore I will not repeat it here. Banasiak, similarly to Jakub Dąbrowski, who published a chapter in the same book, underlined the meaning of hip hop as a specific kind of street art. In this book that idea also appears in the chapters written by Angelo Kakande, Carlos Garrido Castellano and Otávio Raposo.

            The first place where I came across political murals was Northern Ireland, and Belfast in particular. In spite of the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, the murals still remind us that political consensus does not mean that the conflict has ended, and one may expect that in the face of Brexit it will escalate. As Neil Jarman wrote, “Meaning is the dialectic of content and place, and murals are the tattoos that define the sectarian skin of Belfast.”[17] In this book, Bill Rolston drafts a history of Irish murals and describes how those who created them were engaged in the peace process. Another text which refers to history was written by Jonathan Wallis, who writes about historical murals in federal buildings and Universities that show the history of the USA from the perspective of colonials or – as in the case of a mural at Indiana University – Ku Klux Klan members. The Author describes the strategies used against these offensive images since there is no single position towards them: on one hand, they are artworks of historical value and are protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution, which guarantees freedom of speech; on the other hand, they are socially harmful as they strengthen hurtful stereotypes.[18]

            Gregory Sholette, a well-known artist, activist, and the author of many books and articles about art activism, wrote: “City managers leverage low-cost cultural and community assets to solve seemingly intractable infrastructure problems; blighted neighborhoods are made livable again; and artists get an opportunity to apply their talents to real-world problems outside the solitude of their studios.”[19] This kind of situation is described by Carlos Garrido Castellano and Otávio Raposo, who write about street art on the outskirts of Lisbon in the context of Portuguese colonialism and post-colonialism. On one hand, street art (murals, graffiti and hip hop) there became a form of protest against unfairness (especially the brutality of police); on the other hand, it is a way to improve the living conditions in illegal settlements in which people from former colonies live, as the Lisbon authorities realized that street art draws tourists and can be a source of income.[20] Fernando Escobar writes about similar mechanisms of using and appropriating street art that have been applied by the authorities of the largest cities in Columbia. Tobias Morawski, in turn, describes the murals, graffiti and adbusting that have been used as a tool to fight neo-liberalism in Berlin in the context of ongoing gentrification. Nomusa Makhubu used Stuart Hall’s concept of articulation to describe the situation in the post-apartheid Republic of South Africa and the role that the iconic image of Mambush (a miner shot by police) played in it. This book is closed by Angelo Kakande’s text, in which he writes about the specific political situation in Uganda and the togikwatago 102(b) campaign against the removal of age limits for presidential candidates from the constitution, which made it possible for the current president to remain in office for life. The Author writes about hip hop songs and the very few stencils on walls, and he explains how silence may become a way to communicate protest.

***

This book was illustrated by Mariusz Waras, who was inspired by the photos of murals sent by the Authors. In this way, we underline the fact that we focus on content and social meaning rather than on the form of the discussed cases of street art.

(A Foreword to: “War and Peace. Socio-Political Conflict and Street Art”, ed. Malgorzata Kazmierczak, Mariusz Waras, AS: Szczecin 2020.


[1] Rosalyn Deutsche, Evictions. Art and Spatial Politics (Cambridge-London: MIT, 1996), 278.

[2] #CACEROLAZO – Ana Tijoux, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lItbHicquo4, accessed 2.02.2020.

[3] Pascale Bonnefoy, “Killing of Indigenous Man in Chile Spurs Criticism of Security Forces,” New York Times, 25.11.2018,  https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/25/world/americas/indigenous-killing-chile-land.html,  accessed 10.01.2020.

[4] Memoria y DDHH and Wallmapu, “It’s been 11 years since the cowardly murder of young Mapuche Matías Catrileo,” Resumen, 3.01.2019,  https://resumen.cl/articulos/its-been-11-years-since-the-cowardly-murder-of-young-mapuche-matias-catrileo, accessed 10.01.2020.

[5] Billy Anania, “The Cop-Attacking Chilean Dog Who Became a Worldwide Symbol of Protest,” Hyperallergic, 5.11.2019, https://hyperallergic.com/526687/negro-matapacos-chilean-protest-dog/, accessed 2.01.2020.

[6] Marcela Peñaloza, “This is what Cecilia Morel said of the crisis in Chile,” Latinamerican Post, 24.10.2019,  https://latinamericanpost.com/30624-this-is-what-cecilia-morel-said-of-the-crisis-in-chile, accessed 3.01.2020.

[7] At the end of December officially 29 people had been killed, 2,500 wounded, 2,840 arrested.

[8] Brent McDonald, “A Bullet to the Eye Is the Price of Protesting in Chile,” New York Times, 19.11.2019,  https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/19/world/americas/chile-protests-eye-injuries.html, accessed 2.02.2020.

[9] Pascale Bonnefoy, “Mounting Evidence of Abuse by Chile’s Police Leads to Calls for Reform,” ibid. 13.12.2019  https://www.nytimes.com/2019/12/13/world/americas/chile-police-protests.html, accessed 10.01.2020.

[10] See: Deutsche, 269–327.

[11] See: Justyna Weronika Łabądź, Street art. Sztuka ulicy (Warszawa: SBM, 2019); Elżbieta Dymna and Marcin Rutkiewicz, Polski street art (Warszawa: Carta Blanca-Fundacja Sztuki Zewnętrznej, 2010); Tomasz Sikorski and Marcin Rutkiewicz, Graffiti w Polsce 1940–2010 (Warszawa: Carta Blanca, 2011); Łukasz Biskupski, Prosto z ulicy. Sztuki wizualne w dobie mediów społecznościowych i kultury uczestnictwa – street art (Warszawa: Fundacja Bęc Zmiana, 2017); Sebastian Frąckiewicz, Żeby było ładnie. Rozmowy o boomie i kryzysie street artu w Polsce (Poznań: Galeria Miejska Arsenał, 2015).

[12] Aleksandra Niżyńska, Street art jako alternatywna forma debaty publicznej w przestrzeni miejskiej (Warszawa: Trio, 2011).

[13] Various definitions of street art were also given by Martyna Fołta, “Street art a estetyka miejskich przestrzeni publicznych,” Przestrzeń Społeczna (Social Space), no. 8 (2014): 222–34. About the conflict in public space in the context of the problem of the cross placed in Krakowskie Przedmieście St. in Warsaw see: Magda Szcześniak, “Spory o przestrzeń. Kilka uwag o uczestnictwie w konflikcie,” Kultua Popularna 4, no. 34 (2012): 58-66,https://doi.org/10.5604/16448340.1055459.

[14] Lisa K. Waldner and Betty A. Dobratz, “Graffiti as a Form of Contentious Political Participation,” Sociology Compass 7, no. 5 (2013): 377-89.

[15] Nato Thompson and Gregory Sholette, eds., The Interventionists. User’s Manual for the Creative Disruption of Everyday Life (North Adams, MA: MASS MoCA Publications, 2004).

[16] Mirosław Duchowski and Elżbieta Anna Sekuła, eds., Street art. Między wolnością a anarchią [Street Art: Between Freedom and Anarchy] (Warszawa: ASP, 2011).

[17] Neil Jarman, “Shrouded Signs and Obscured Symbols,” in All Over Again, ed. Eoghan McTigue (Belfast: Belfast Exposed, 2004).

[18] See: Melissa Young, “Petition to Remove University Mural Depicting KKK Rally Sparks Controversy,” Hyperallergic, 8.11.2017, https://hyperallergic.com/410319/petition-to-remove-university-mural-depicting-kkk-rally-sparks-controversy/, accessed 20.01.2020. There is also a discussion about other historical murals which use a similar narration: Zachary Small, “A Controversial WPA Mural Is a Litmus Test for the Longevity of Public Art,” ibid., 8.07.2019, https://hyperallergic.com/507802/the-life-of-george-washington/ accessed 2.02.2020; Kate Gill, “Fight Over Divisive Mural Escalates as George Washington High School Alumni File Lawsuit,” ibid., 7.10.2019, https://hyperallergic.com/521314/fight-over-divisive-mural-escalates-as-george-washington-high-school-alumni-file-lawsuit/, accessed 2.02.2020.

[19] Gregory Sholette, Delirium and Resistance. Activist Art and the Crisis of Capitalism (London: Pluto Press, 2017), 131.

[20] About the institutionalization of Lisbon street art see: Pedro Costa and Ricardo Lopes, “Is street art institutionalizable? Challenges to an alternative urban policy in Lisbon,” Métropoles. Politiques urbaines alternatives, no. 17 (2015), https://journals.openedition.org/metropoles/5157, accessed 2.02.2020. About the same problem in Poland see: Marek Krajewski, “Street art i wladze(a) miasta [Streets and municipal authorities],” in Street art. Między wolnością a anarchią [Street Art: Between Freedom and Anarchy], ed. Mirosław Duchowski and Elżbieta Anna Sekuła (Warszawa: ASP, 2011), 192–200.

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