Cambridge street artists from Blight Society talk to Alice Hutton about an art form that lives on the edge of the law
It’s a classic image of urban crime: a hooded yoof, spray can in grubby paw, maliciously defacing a priceless monument before urinating on a bus stop.
“Oh please,” sniffs 32 year old local street artist, OBE1, as he eye balls a fluorescent blue can, “that kind of gangland culture in Cambridge is as rare as rocking horse poo.”
In the bright crisp Sunday sunshine, street and graffiti artists from all around Cambridgeshire have gathered under Mill Road Bridge for a paint off. The toxic aroma of a dozen multi coloured spray cans is heady and the ground is littered with gigantic intricate stencils as familiar names start shuffling in to set up, introducing themselves under monikers like Snik, Maya, and Irony.
Brought together by local graffiti group, Blight Society, they are the anti yobs: friendly, talented local artists, teachers and graphic designers identifiable only by their paint stained fingers, seizing an unusual opportunity to work together en masse, in daylight.
John founded graffiti group, Blight Society four years ago
Jon, who like many here feels safer on a first name only basis, founded Blight Society four years ago to help foster inner-city artistic talent. Today they are the most prolific graffiti community in Cambridge, running art shows, working with disadvantaged children, rejuvenating run down shops for the city council and helping dozens of talented daubers establish a reputation- and possibly even make a buck.
“The important thing is to differentiate between street art and graffiti,” explains Jon. “Graffiti is about writing your name really big, it’s about fame and reputation and respect. But street art is about taking a project or image you have worked on and putting it out on the street where people can appreciate it. It’s a bit more art and a little less fame.”
Street artist Maya works on his stencil
Modern graffiti started in the late 1970s in New York where crews with names like the Master Blasters began to ‘tag’ cars, walls and most importantly, trains, on an industrial scale. The aim of the game was notoriety, developing its association with vandalism and reckless drug users. Street art, however, is an evolution of the art form where people swap canvases for walls to bring pictorial pieces to the streets that engage with the community.
Cambridge City Council doesn’t make a distinction and operates a zero tolerance policy prosecuting over 50 people between 2006 and 2009 for 1,000 acts of vandalism. Their ability to find and destroy images within 12 hours is unparalleled, allowing only the briefest of glimpses before it disappears under a lick of its trademark whitewash. “It’s weird,” sighs Jon, tugging on a black Nike jumper spattered in paint. “Street art is not really on the street anymore, it’s photos on the internet, and you’re actually quite lucky if you see anything on a wall.”
'Meditations on the Muse' by Cambridge street artist, Maya
Josh Peacock, who paints under the name OBE1, and works part time teaching graffiti at charity Momentum Arts, puts the final touches to his piece showing a spray can with jaws. “Virtually every graffiti artist has been in trouble at some point,” he admits, “but in Cambridge there’s a good conduct of respect amongst street artists. You wouldn’t catch any of us graffitiing King’s Chapel or someone’s car, we’re not vandals.”
Ironically, the world’s most famous vandal, British street artist, opportunist and public space defacer, Banksy, is revered as an invisible graffiti god. But who says he’s any different from the average can toting hooligan? “Well, he’s not,” says 25 year old graphic designer, Nick Ellis (aka Snik) thoughtfully. His immense 9ft by 6ft woman reclines sensuously across the brick wall in a flowing dress that took two people, six stencils and shades of grey to create. “If Banksy goes and paints on someone’s house they cover it in protective plastic because it is now worth a lot of money, if someone else does it they don’t like it. I don’t get the difference to be honest. He didn’t do it first and he still doesn’t do it best. He’s just as illegal as us he’s just worth a lot more cash.”
treet artist, Josh Peacock, in background, teaches graffiti at Cambridge charity Momentum Arts
Nevertheless, none of them deny the japester’s important role in legitimizing graffiti as an art form that interacts with the environment and the public around you. “Who wants a city that is medically clean and dead?,” asks Jon incredulously as people start to pack up, leaving a once dull brick wall injected with electrifying colours. “Canvases are detached, aimless pieces that have no roots. They sit in one person’s living room where only a finite number of people can enjoy them. What we do is become a legitimate part of the city. Well,” he pauses and grins cheerfully, “I like to keep reminding myself it’s actually still crime.”
Originally published in the Cambridge News
