Urban Art Association

Lee Quiñones interview, by dreadnatty on Dec 30, 2014 5:42:46 GMT 1, Street-Art Pioneer Lee Quiñones on Banksy, 5 Pointz, and the Commodification of Graffiti
By Matthew Giles

www.vulture.com/2014/12/street-art-legend-quiones-on-banksy-5-pointz.html

Lee Quiñones is an elder statesman of street art. His graffiti subway creations — called "top-to-bottoms" for the way they covered the car's entire exterior — established his legendary status as they rode untouched for years. Still active today, Quiñones spoke with Vulture about his history in New York and the state of street art in the city. He discusses Banksy's New York residency, the demolition of the legendary Long Island City graffiti mural space 5 Pointz, and more.
You’ve been creating art in the streets for decades. Are there any pieces by other artists that you consider influential or iconic in the street-art canon?
There is one historical work that didn’t necessarily hit you in the face but was always there in your mind: "Pray." It’s not street art but street poetry. No one ever figured out who "Pray" was. Some people thought it was a displaced nun, or an older senior nun, walking around the city writing in the old telephone booths. I never saw a booth that didn’t have "Pray," or "Worship God," written on it. Was it someone being sarcastic about religion, or someone being really religious? "Pray" is still being written in the city. There aren’t booths anymore, but you can still find it on the subway — on the beams, the platforms, or various other places on the subway. I don’t know if it is a following or if the same person continues to etch.
Of your work that you’ve created, which did you feel was the most important?
The "Howard the Duck" handball wall mural, which I created in 1978 and was the first of its kind. Basically that mural broke open the conversation of what this art movement was capable of and the trajectory it was pointed in. I felt that I had arrived as an artist at that point. "The Lion’s Den" mural was behind it. I loved the "Lion" mural more than Howard, because it was when I felt I brought the technique of spray-painting to the next level. Instead of outlining things in a cartoonish way, I was working with stories of light and depth and feel. Both were a neighborhood prescription.
When you say "neighborhood prescription," what does that mean?
The Lower East Side is an unsung hero itself. A lot of talents came out of there, but it is always at the back of the bus compared to the rest of the city. I felt the neighborhood was hurting and wanted something refreshing to look forward to.
Oh, okay, so the murals were supposed to boost the neighborhood’s confidence? Profile?
Yes, and those two walls were iconic for a number of reasons. Both Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat were highly influenced by them. They visited the walls to see how such a thing could be done. It enabled me to practice my craft on a bigger scale on something that didn’t move away from you, like the subway.
Did Keith or Jean-Michel ever talk to you about your work?
Well, those two murals led Keith to the Bowery and Houston wall he did. He actually asked me for permission. I was shocked. I told him it wasn’t my wall, but I appreciate that you asked me. His next question to me was "How do you do it?" Everyone was awed by my two walls, but they never realized how I did it. I just said, "Go and get a ladder!" Everyone made it more scientifically complex that it was. I painted in the middle of the night with moonlight. All you need is a ladder and some cajones!
I read that you had permission to do the "Lion’s Den" mural. How did you get that permission after "Howard the Duck"?
"Howard the Duck" became a neighborhood tablet, even though it was done without permission. I was going to the school [Corlears Junior High School] at that point, and after I did "Howard the Duck," I was asked to come to the dean’s office. I thought I was in a heap of trouble, but then the principal gently grabbed my hand and said, "Lee, we love what you did. We are not excited you did it without permission, but we’d love to give you permission to paint the other wall."
As you were developing your talent, what other NYC pieces were you looking to for inspiration?
Jenny Holzer. Her writings on the wall were instrumental. In the 1980s, in NYC, there was an abundance of abandoned buildings and walls. The presence of all those empty buildings became almost normal to some people, but when you saw something painted on a wall as crude as the phrase "Broken Promises" or "Sense of Power Is Domination," it gave a whole new purpose to the climate and the actual buildings. That was riveting to me. Jenny Holzer makes me feel so illiterate and stupid when I read her stuff. I am a visual person, and when I am down and out in my work, I always look forward to her work. Her work is like she is throwing a huge party on the street that no one is ever late to.
We haven’t spoken yet about all the great subway graffiti that was being created, by yourself and many others, that also doesn’t exist anymore.
On the subway, things came in and out really quickly. They were like lost dreams. During the 1970s, my cars, my work, would run for years untouched. I would bump into my own work a few years after I created it and retouch it. The city was in a fiscal crisis, so no one gave a shit.
But now those works only exist in photographs.
Yeah, totally destroyed. The trains were buffed away, painted over, and then destroyed. They are probably living as reefs off the Atlantic Coast. I hoard things and I hoarded most of my iconic subway cars' preliminary drawings. They were made in full splendid color, painted in alcohol and paint markers. I never showed anyone, other than the trains I painted with them. I kept those drawings in a closet for 30 years until recently, when I began having them professionally framed. I look back and think, I was really 18 at that time, and laugh now.
Here are three of these rarely seen drawings: