Meet the Tageurs

My friend Rodolphe, a graffiti artist, was unable to take me out to the peripherique to see his work this week. However, several friends of his were at the Frigos this weekend when I happened to be coming by to visit. Initially, no one noticed my camera, and I took several interesting shots of the "tageurs" at work, but when I was discovered I had to delete most of them.

Despite the questionable legality of their work, I was very surprised that the taggers were so virulently opposed to being photographed. After all, these are people who have made an art form out of writing one's name on the wall. Every piece of graffiti art I have ever seen has cried out, above all, "I exist, I was here." It is clear, if this is so, that photography is perceived as more than a simply documentary art by the graffiti artist. If it were merely documentary, a photograph would reemphasize this claim.

I think the issue, besides legality, is a resistance to being appropriated, to being nostalgized. Graffiti declares itself in opposition to the owners of property, to the authorities. To be photographed at work by an art student would be paramount to inclusion in a dialogue towards which these artists have defined themselves by opposition and resistance. The work can only exist in temporary form. To make it permanent, as I've tried to do by photographing it, commodifies the art in a way which is inimical to its spirit.

Still, the images are beautiful and the spaces they create are unique. I am very interested by the camera's powers of exploration, and in order to explore with a camera, you need a photographic space. So while I think I'm coming to understand why the graffiti artists are resistant to being photographed at work, I will continue photographing that work in order to create my own.

Here is the only shot of them all together which I was allowed to keep: