Before “street art” became a globally recognized genre, Barry McGee and Margaret Kilgallen were charting their course—one rooted in graffiti, freight trains, hand-drawn signs, and the layered rhythms of the city itself. This rare 12-minute Art21 segment, first aired in 2001, offers an intimate look into their daily lives and creative processes as they prepare for professional exhibitions, walk the tracks with grease markers, and draw inspiration from the overlooked details of the urban environment. It’s a snapshot of a pivotal moment—both for these artists and for the emerging intersection between street-based practices and the contemporary art world.
Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21
Filmed in and around San Francisco, the video captures the couple’s quiet intensity as they work side by side in their home studios and wander through city streets, sketchbooks in hand. Kilgallen’s fascination with folk art, typography, and the quiet strength of everyday women is evident in her brushwork and storytelling. At the same time, McGee’s background in graffiti writing (under the name “Twist”) infuses his work with raw immediacy and empathy for the margins. Together, their work bridges the privilege of formal art training and a DIY ethos of that time, resisting slickness in favor of the handmade, the weathered, the real.
Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21
In a brief sequence at a local railyard, the artists point out their favorite freight markings and leave their own, adding to an ongoing visual conversation that spans the continent. Here, we can witness the full scope of their practice: part art history, part subculture explorer, part ephemeral, anthropological act of communication. The video doesn’t over-explain; instead, it allows the viewer to observe, to absorb, and possibly feel the quiet devotion these two artists have for their work, even as they negotiate their paths.
Aired initially just weeks before Kilgallen’s untimely passing in 2001, this footage now carries added weight. It serves not only as documentation of two artists at work but also as a rare and moving record of their shared vision—a world built from signs, symbols, and experience, where the boundary between art and life is barely visible.
Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21Barry McGee & Margaret Kilgallen. Image still from the video. Art21
Welcome to BSA’s Images of the week. Mockingbirds are bringing sprigs from the cold, grey, churning East River to build nests on the banks of abandoned lots of Williamsburg/Greenpoint before further ugly gentrification paves it over. Up and down the Brooklyn waterfront, it’s a procession of architectural mediocrity—glass boxes and bland slabs posing as progress. With few exceptions, these vertical office parks evoke visions of photocopier showrooms or surplus staplers stacked in a supply closet.
Magnolias and cherry blossoms are starting to bust out all over Brooklyn. Spring is here, and it’s coming in hot—and cold. April’s throwing weather tantrums like a toddler on espresso, bouncing us around like a pinball between heatwaves, cold snaps; all while dodging the political side-swipes we read and hear on social media and the press room. Add in soaring grocery bills (despite what the “official” numbers say), and it’s no wonder everyone’s feeling a little punch-drunk.
In a notable week for New York’s graffiti and street art scene, Dutch artist Tripl, also known as Furious, unveiled his decade-long project, Repainting Subway Art. This ambitious endeavor meticulously recreates the iconic 1984 book Subway Art by Martha Cooper and Henry Chalfant, with Tripl reproducing each original piece on European trains and re-enacting the accompanying photographs. The project culminated in the publication of the 196-page book that was featured Friday night and feted Saturday night.
Friday to a packed auditorium the Museum of the City of New York hosted a panel discussion on featuring Tripl, Cooper, Chalfant, and artist John “Crash” Matos. Moderated by graffiti scholar Edward Birzin and introduced by MCNY’s Sean Corcoran, the conversation delved into the evolution and global impact of graffiti and street art culture and the powerful reverberation of the book’s influence on generations of writers and artists.
Last night, Crash’s gallery WallWorks New York in the Bronx inaugurated the Repainting Subway Art exhibition, offering an immersive experience juxtaposing pages from the original Subway Art with Tripl’s reinterpretations. As word gradually spreads about this project, the graffiti and related communities will undoubtedly debate its significance—as homage, reinterpretation, and artistic intervention—while celebrating the obsessive dedication it took to recreate one of graffiti’s foundational texts from a contemporary, transnational perspective.
We continue with our interviews with the street, this week including stuff from Homesick, Kobra, Humble, Sluto, Wild West, V. Ballentine, Bleach, Toast, CAMI XVX, Vew, Tover, Dreps, Leaf!, Aneka, Kam S. Art, and John Sear.
Nadia Vadori-Gauthier, a Franco-Canadian artist and choreographer, initiated the “Une minute de danse par jour” (One Minute of Dance per Day) on January 14, 2015. This endeavor was her response to the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris, aiming to offer a daily act of poetic resistance and to foster a sense of solidarity and tenderness through dance.
She records a one-minute dance in public spaces daily, engaging with diverse environments and audiences. As of early 2025, she has shared over 3,600 such performances. BSA has only featured about 20 of them over the last decade.
Here is a compilation that showcases the evolution of her daily dances, highlighting the variety of locations, interactions, and emotions encapsulated in her performances. Thankfully, she has documented her project, which serves as a testament to the transformative power of consistent artistic expression in public spaces.
Long before he hijacked billboards, Ron English was growing up in Decatur, Illinois, tuning in to the everyday spectacle of ads and authority—and wondering why nobody was messing with them. By the late 1970s, English had begun altering billboards in Texas, driven by the realization that “making art was only half the equation.” The other half? Being seen. Advertising billboard culture became his unwitting canvas, a visual battleground where commercial power collided with public resistance.
From satirical cereal mascots to twisted cartoon icons, Ron English has consistently lampooned consumer culture, branding, and the corporatization of childhood. His warped advertising parodies echo an earlier tradition of subversion—perhaps most notably the Wacky Packages stickers of the 1970s, illustrated by artists like Art Spiegelman and Norm Saunders. These collectible cards spoofed products like “Cap’n Crud” cereal and “Crust” toothpaste, offering kids a gleeful way to question the slick promises of mass-market brands.
Alongside MAD Magazine’s fake ads, they helped cultivate a generation that cast a suspicious eye toward the messages pumped out by powerful corporations—corporations Ron would later stick his fingers in the eyes of, quite literally, on their own billboards. But beyond the pop surrealism lies a deeper urgency: the struggle over public space. As English notes, “Why should a company own a million billboards—and I own none?” It’s a question that resonates in a world where corporate entities can buy influence and visibility, while ordinary people are largely shut out of the conversation.
Street art and billboard takeovers in particular respond to that imbalance. They are risky, illegal, and often thankless acts of defiance. English’s work—sometimes carried out in daylight while wearing a reflective vest to pass as a worker—subverts not just the medium but the system that controls it. His collaborations with activist groups marked a turning point: art for art’s sake gave way to art with a message.
This video and interview by the next generation of political artist-activists, INDESIGN, pays tribute to English—not to glorify him, but to understand his path and purpose. His story helps illustrate why artists still take to the streets: not always for fame, but to reclaim space, to question authority, and to be heard in a world flooded with noise.
Welcome to BSA Images of the Week. Congratulations to our Muslim neighbors in NYC on the occasion of Eid al-Fitr, and we wish them peace, joy, and blessings as they mark the end of Ramadan.
The popping rumble of customized mufflers is back on the streets, a rite of spring as familiar as purple crocuses and snowdrops pushing through browned grass, old 40 bottles, crumpled chip bags, and cigarette butts. The warming weather softens the ground and lets loose the mingled scents of hydrangea and dog pee. And once again, Saturday night Romeos are rolling down their windows, cruising slow, and blasting tracks like Jack Harlow and Doja Cat’s new banger “Just Us”—hoping someone’s paying attention.
On the street art tip, you’ll see Faile has come back with some of their new and old icons remixed, Trump and Elon are widely critiqued in caricature, and vertical graffiti is the new horizontal.
We continue with our interviews with the street, this week including Faile, John Ahearn, CRKSHNK, Modomatic, Qzar, EXR, Ollin, Sto, REW X, Want Pear, Batola, Ooh Baby, Thug Life, and Jayo.
Shepard Fairey has unveiled a new six-story mural titled We Demand Change in Washington, D.C., a solemn and visually arresting tribute to Joaquin “Guac” Oliver, one of the 17 victims of the 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. Installed at 618 H Street NW in Chinatown—just steps from the Capital One Arena—the mural bears Oliver’s portrait above the words “Demand Change,” a frank call to action and a reflection of Fairey’s decades-long commitment to social justice through art.
Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)
The mural was painted by Fairey alongside Joaquin’s father, Manuel Oliver, himself a visual artist and activist. It was unveiled on March 24, 2025, marking the seventh anniversary of the historic March for Our Lives rally. This project was realized through the collaboration of several organizations committed to ending gun violence: Change the Ref (founded by Joaquin’s parents, Manuel and Patricia Oliver), Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, DowntownDC Business Improvement District, and March for Our Lives.
Fairey’s statement underscores the deeply personal nature of this project: “Gun violence is an issue I’ve addressed in my art going back to the 90s, but no project has ever had the emotional weight that this one does.”
Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. Shepard in the middle with Joaquin’s parents Manny and Patricia. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)
The mural continues a long tradition in street art and graffiti of public memorials and political expression—from tributes honoring the victims of 9/11, to revolutionary slogans of the Arab Spring, to stenciled portraits from the Black Lives Matter movement, and even the Cold War-themed subway murals of New York pioneer Lee in the 1980s. These works transform walls into spaces of mourning, protest, and resolve. Fairey’s tribute to Joaquin joins that lineage while directly confronting the consequences of inaction in the face of American gun violence.
For the Oliver family, and for Fairey, the mural is more than a visual landmark—it is a call for legislative change and cultural reckoning. “There aren’t enough walls to pay tribute to all who have died tragically,” Fairey says. “It is time for us to demand change.” The mural is permanent, but the demand it voices is urgent and ongoing.
Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)Shepard Fairey. Joaquin Oliver – Demand Change. Washington, D.C. (photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company)
Statement from Shepard:
“My crew and I, along with Manny Oliver, Joaquin Oliver’s dad, just completed this 6-story Demand Change mural in the Chinatown district of Washington, DC. Gun violence is an issue I’ve addressed in my art going back to the 90s, but no project has ever had the emotional weight that this one does. Joaquin Oliver was one of 17 people shot and killed at Parkland High… he was 17 at the time, the same age as my younger daughter Madeline. My art is a reflection of my values: human rights, justice, peace, equality, and yes, family values.
I put the value of my family and anyone else’s family ahead of the right to bear arms without conditions. The founders of the U.S. included in the Declaration of Independence the idea that we are all endowed with unalienable rights, among which are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. Gun violence takes those unalienable rights away from too many people. Guns kill more kids now than car accidents, and no one debates that driving a car comes with conditions around safety and responsibility. I hope that anyone who sees this mural is intrigued by who Joaquin Oliver was/is and can understand that he had huge promise and meant the world to his parents Manny and Patricia. Manny, Patricia, and I don’t want other families to lose their kids to gun violence. This mural is not just a tribute to Joaquin but a reminder that there is a huge human consequence to gun violence, and there aren’t enough walls to pay tribute to all who have died tragically. It is time for us to demand change!
We must use our voices and our actions, especially including our votes, to push for change. Joaquin could be your son, brother, cousin, or friend. Please check out and support what Manny Oliver is doing as an artist and activist with his organization Change the Ref. Also, check out Manny’s play “Guac” if it comes to your town. Thank you to my crew of Nic Bowers and Rob Zagula, as well as Manny Oliver for their help on the mural—also, big thanks to Lukas from Downtown DC for securing the wall and resources. Also, thank you to Wooly Mammoth Theater for hosting Manny’s play and helping facilitate this project!”
There’s a warmth in the grey—Sebas Velasco knows how to find it. Next month the Spanish artist’s distinct urban realism brings it inside the museum setting with The Morning Will Change Everything. Opening April 4th at the History Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina, this debut solo museum exhibition is more than a milestone—it’s a culmination of over a decade of travel, observation, and layered storytelling across the cities of the former Yugoslavia.
Velasco’s name has long been familiar to readers of Brooklyn Street Art. In a previous feature, we wrote: “Velasco captures the quiet poetry of peripheral urban life—its architecture, its characters, its flickering signs—rendered in a palette that echoes sodium streetlights and analog nostalgia.” That sensibility is on full display here. Inspired by the Sarajevo-based band Indexi’s song of the same name, the exhibition brings together new works on canvas that move between car parks, housing blocks, portraits, and fading signage—each composition a portal into the lives and geographies of transitional Eastern Europe.
Opening night begins with a film screening and Q&A at 18:00 with Bosnian cinematographer Mario Ilić, followed by a public vernissage at 19:30. Throughout the weekend, the museum will host programming that continues the cross-cultural exchange embedded in Velasco’s work. On Friday, visitors can join a guided exhibition tour and a talk titled Representation: Finding the Warmth in the Grey, featuring Velasco, writer Marc Casals, and curator Adna Muslija. Saturday’s panel, Against the Margins: Breaking Isolation, brings together curator Saša Bogojev, artist Bojan Stojčić, and museum director Elma Hašimbegović, moderated by cultural producer Charlotte Pyatt—who also produced the project. Spanish guitarist Jaime Velasco, whose live acoustic performance will close the Friday program, adds another dimension to the artist’s world, evoking both familial and cultural ties.
Moderating Thursday’s kickoff conversation is Doug Gillen of Fifth Wall TV, bringing his signature sharp lens to a discussion about public space, memory, and representation. With partners like Gallery Manifesto, the Embassy of Spain in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and a community of local collaborators, The Morning Will Change Everything speaks not only to Sebas Velasco’s vision but also to the resilience and vitality of Sarajevo as a site of contemporary culture.
And while the canvases may hang in a museum this time, the core remains the same: The quiet electricity of a neon-lit side street. The open face of a subject not quite posing. The sense that just beyond the frame, life continues to unfold.
Back home in NYC, there’s a heavier police presence—more beat cops on the sidewalks, more boots on subway platforms, or at least it feels that way. Some say it’s about safety; others say it’s panic. And let’s be real: it often appears that this city still has no idea what to do with our mentally ill neighbors except push them outside and act shocked when they behave like they’re… mentally ill.
But hope blooms in strange places. Like the number 1 train, where Miguel “Mike Plants” Andrade—aka The Plant Man—has been selling succulents and orchids to passengers, leading us to; A. We’ve always liked the word ‘succulent’ and are happy to use it in a sentence, and B. Mr. Andrade proves that one human doing their thing with a heart can shift the whole mood, reframe your current situation.
And in street art and graffiti? The walls are still talking—shouting, whispering, reflecting us back at ourselves with a sometimes banal, sometimes beguiling presentation. If the overall message feels messy, it’s because the world is messy. But often there’s clarity in the chaos if you squint at it in the right manner.
We continue with our interviews with the street, this week including Faile, Judith Supine, City Kitty, Lexi Bella, Werds, Turtle Caps, Zoot, Corn Queen, Klonism, Zero Productivity, Muska, Nice, Badlucao, LYFR, and Barb Tropolis.
First day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere, and what better sign of renewal than a fresh Urban Nation bloom—sprouting defiantly among the dried leaves, cigarette butts, and abandoned Berliner Pilsner bottles?
As part of an ongoing conversation with curator Michelle Houston about the latest show at Urban Nation, LOVE LETTERS TO THE CITY, we find ourselves drawn to the echoes of the Situationists, those restless wanderers who believed the city wasn’t just a place but an experience—one that tugs at your emotions, plays with your psychology, and sometimes leads you straight to an impromptu picnic on Görlitzer Park’s slightly suspect grass.
The show isn’t just a tribute to urban spaces; it’s a love note, a protest, and a collection of insights into the streets that shape us and our experience.
Video credits: Commissioned by Stiftung Berliner Leben. Shot by Alexander Lichtner & Ilja Braun. Post-production, additional footage, graphics, and a final version by Michelle Nimpsch for YAP Studio/YES, AND… productions GmbH & Co. KG
From the earliest graffiti writers to the street artists of today, creatives have long turned to public space, short-circuiting the existing system and taking their work to the streets. The billboards in this exhibition honor that history, bypassing traditional gatekeepers and giving artists a direct line to the city itself. No red tape, no VIP lists—just the raw, immediate impact of art in the urban landscape.
SaveArtSpace co-founder Travis Rix has been a driving force behind this direction in the last decade, ensuring that artists—regardless of background or formal representation—have access to some of the most visible walls in the world. This year’s exhibition continues that mission, giving up to 50 artists the chance to showcase their work across New York.
We invite artists of all ages and talents to submit their artwork between March 3, 2024, and April 14, 2025. A $10 donation per image submission helps fund the project and is tax-deductible. Selected artists will be announced after April 28, 2025, and their work will go up on billboards starting May 30, 2025, staying on view for at least a month. The celebration doesn’t stop there—chosen works will also be exhibited at Satellite Gallery (279 Broome St, NYC) with an opening night anniversary party on May 30, 2025, from 6-9 PM.
This is a street-wise event, a New York tradition, and a tribute to the artists who take their work straight to the public. Below, we look at a few past billboards that turned the city into a gallery—proof that art in the commons isn’t just possible, it’s necessary.
SaveArtSpace is proud to present our 10th Anniversary celebration The People’s Art, a group public art exhibition on billboard ad space in New York, NY, opening May 30, 2025, curated by Anne-Laure Lemaitre, RJ Rushmore, Zahra Sherzad, Steven P. Harrington and Jaime Rojo, & Travis Rix.
The selected artists will also be exhibited at Satellite Gallery, 279 Broome St, NYC, with a one-night opening reception anniversary party on May 30, 2025.
Purim has wrapped up in Brooklyn after three days and two nights of exuberant revelry in Hasidic neighborhoods—a celebration that, at first glance, might seem like a fusion of Halloween and New Year’s, complete with thousands of costumed kids and exuberant teens, many of whom are noticeably inebriated, blasting music into the night from roaming RVs. Of course, this being New York, the city takes it all in stride—because if there’s one place that can handle a rolling, Yiddish-speaking Mardi Gras in March, it’s Brooklyn.
In NYC news, a new exhibition celebrates the 20th anniversary of those orange fluttering “gates” one winter in Central Park. Christo and Jeanne-Claude: The Gates and Unrealized Projects for New York City at The Shed is an immersive exhibition that includes an augmented reality component and rekindles memories for those who witnessed The Gates and unveils hidden stories for new audiences. Also, a shout out to the artist duo Zorawar Sidhu and Rob Swainston and their new show Flash Point at Petzel. In visually arresting large-scale woodcut and silkscreen prints that echo the chaotic energy of city streets, they examinethe Anthropocene, forced migrations, and American civil unrest through layered compositions that slow down the rapid circulation of news imagery.
And we continue with our interview with the street, this week including Degrupo, Below Key, JerkFace, Roachi, BK Ackler, Denis Ouch, Manuel Alejandro NYC, ATOMS, Wild West, Helch, Sport, Zore64, Obek, and Soul.
These days Fascism is often described as the merger of state and corporate power, and is sighted in a growing number of countries and cities. It’s also used as a way to attack in political discourse. The term “fascist” has been used as a pejorative in U.S. politics for decades. For instance, during the 1980s, critics labeled President Ronald Reagan as a fascist, and later the term has been applied to figures like George W. Bush and Donald Trump, reflecting its persistent use as a political insult, including last fall when Kamala Harris referred to Donald Trump as a ‘fascist’.
ELFO. Somewhere in Italy. (photo courtesy of the artist)
“Nowadays it’s a popular reflex to call someone with authoritarian impulses a fascist,” says the Churchhill Project at Hillsdale College. Truthfully, they seem to be popping up all around like cats in a canned tuna factory. So, it is a great comfort that the Italian graffiti humorist plunges into the heated melee to clarify where he stands with his “Artista Antifascista” piece on dilapidated remains of architectural ruins. He tells us, “Usually my art works do not have an explicit political message but the global situation requires a clear position.”
ELFO. Somewhere in Italy. (photo courtesy of the artist)