Spray no more?

THE graffiti and stencil art movement has incurred the wrath of building owners and the public who consider the display of their works inconsiderate acts of vandalism.

“I know it is a form of artistic expression but that does not mean that one can spray their signature all over the place. It makes the street look seedy and messy,” opined Lena Lau, 38, of Native Art Gallery in Jalan Hang Lekir, Kuala Lumpur.

A representative of Peter Hoe Evolution, a handicraft boutique in the same area, said they had shelled out RM4,000 for a newly- painted exterior only to find it dotted with stencil works the next day.

Roundtable discussion: (From left) Anokayer, Salleh, Tha-B and Kioue seeking a solution.

“We are still in two minds whether to paint over the images as they may see it as an ‘invitation’ to spray more of such signs,” said the representative, who preferred to remain anonymous.

Saidi Mohamed, 28, a technician who works for Lee Rubber Building, said the management had a no-nonsense policy where spray-can art was concerned.

“We have instructions to scrape them off immediately because it goes against the colour scheme of the building. Of course, cleaning up after them comes with a price,” he said.

And, forking out big bucks was what the Kuala Lumpur City Hall (DBKL) had to do when the local authority had to whitewash the 300-metre-long mural along the banks of the Klang river. The mural, which was a collaboration of graffiti and stencil artists, had been done without permission from the authorities.

According to DBKL director-general Datuk Salleh Yusup, the whitewash treatment is accorded not only to graffiti and stencil drawings but to all forms of unauthorised signage and display on public buildings.

In happier times: Kioue posing in front of his work before the City Hall workers painted it over.

“According to the 1991 by-law, graffiti is categorised as an act of vandalism. It is an offence which carries a fine ranging from RM1,000 to RM1,500,” said Salleh.

So, what now?

“We are not going to stop,” insisted Zulkifli Salleh, 24, a.k.a. Kioue (pronounced as “Kayu”) and Sharane Mat Zaini, 31, a.k.a. Tha-B.

Lest one takes this as the defiant reply of two vandals who vow to go on the warpath, Sharane gave an assurance that they would not go against the City Hall directive. There will always be other alternatives and places, they guaranteed. Still, one could sense the duo’s animosity towards other bombers (a slang referring to individuals who leave their mark behind on public walls) who have given the trade a bad name.

Leaving a message: This work by mysterious bomber FCode is visible along Jalan Hang Lekir.

“They have no discipline for art,” stated Kioue of those who had defaced private property with wild, unintelligible scribbles.

“It is important to prepare a draft of what you want to portray before you reach for the spray can. This way, you know for sure what the outcome will be. With the beginners, they are not prepared and when they make a mistake, they make a mess of the building facade,” he fumed.

Now, that leaves the question: Why? These public exhibitions are neither commissioned nor subsidised. For the artists, where do the benefits lie in resorting to such actions?

Blame it on boredom, the foolishness of youth and even rebellion, but, according to Kioue and Tha-B, it is all about artistic expression.

“We do it to expose ourselves, to show off our techniques and tell the public what we can do,” said the duo, who always leave their website address behind for all to see.

Some bombers, however, have a different agenda. They hide behind the shield of anonymity, leaving no trace of their identity.

Gone: Where there was an eye-catching mural, only a blank wall greets passers-by on the bank of the Klang river near the Pasar Seni LRT station in Kuala Lumpur.

Cases in point are the ones done by a mysterious bomber who is known only as F-Code, contactable only via his blog at f-code.blogspot.com. His stencil works, No School Today? and Kidnapp (sic) Cars Not Kids, can be found in Jalan Hang Lekir and in the alley beside the Mariamman build-ing, off Jalan Hang Kasturi, respectively. The former is a reminder to students not to play truant and the latter, a stark reminder of the unsolved case of five-year-old Sharlinie who went missing early this year.

“The idea is to send a message to the public,” is the remote reply from a representative of F-Code who wanted to be identified only as Eh.

But, surprisingly, it is the critics themselves who would give hope to the movement.

The art is fantastic (where applicable) and it makes you think, is the general consensus. The DBKL director-general, who is an art lover himself, has promised to consider the idea of allocating a designated public space for the spray can colony to showcase their art. This was expressed at a recent meeting at his office with three spray can artists, namely Kioue, Tha-B and Zulfadli Ahmad Nawawi, 21, a.k.a. Anokayer. The proposed conditions for entry into the area include no-nos to political messages and profanity. Proposed forms of control may include the registration of the artists, who will be given identification tags.

“The mural (along the banks of the Klang river) did make the scenery look nice but because of the by-law, these artists have inadvertently become vandals,” sighed Salleh.