Dave Raphael

Summer 2010 was epic.  And not just epic, but like, Fucking Epic.  There were more than a few people involved in the circus following the solstice, some people got it, some people didnt, some people took it for granted, others made it happen and the select made it unforgettable.  Somewhere in the middle of an unusually warm, bright, Dutch World Cup summer (translate: outfuckingstanding) I had sat down at the terrace all of us seemed to gravitate towards on a regular, semi-regular or daily basis and kicked back to watch what would float by when the first text came in.

Come up to the basketball court around the corner, we are painting an RV, hurry.  I have been featuring FAKE in a longform project Ive been on for over a year now, this is usually how it goes.

which?

The spot where my old stencils are.

I was pretty sure I knew the park, surely I had passed by it a trillion and seven times but I didnt recall seeing any stencils there at all.  I hopped on the bike, and when I got there was met with the fabulous good fortune of spontaneity that makes the scene over there so off the hook.

Fake, London Police, Ives One and a few other artists had come down to paint someone’s RV.  They were deep into it by the time I showed up, mad photography ensued as soon as the fiets hit the ground.

When FAKE finished his piece I casually asked him what the hell he was talking about when he texted earlier.

yeah man, these are some of my first stencils,

except someone covered one up, where’s that ladder?  let me show you.

All the times I had biked past there, I had never noticed.  Shame on me.  So there we were, brand new stuff from FAKE, framed by origins.

Lots more stuff from this afternoon to come.   More FAKE here:

http://fakestencils.com/

Twitter!

Flickr

Fakebook

I usually reserve my blog for the really cool pictures I make.  In this case I have to settle for a really cool picture that I wish I took.

Ive been slack-jawed over Sara Blake’s work since the moment I first saw it and haven’t been able to close my mouth for well over a year now.  How often does that happen?  Perhaps not often enough.

Sara’s first solo show is up for the rest of the month in Sydney at The Friends of Leon Gallery, some prints are still available, get ’em while you can.

Most exciting part about Ms. Blake is that, so far as illustrators go, she is (officially) Awesome.  Expect some All Star Team goodness in the coming months!  Until then, you can keep up with her work at hellozso.

It was probably sometime after Upfest last year that I first got turned onto BB Nielsen’s work.  I had missed her in Europe and was utterly shocked to discover that we were both in Los Angeles at the same time this past September.  “Let’s meet up tomorrow before I head to the airport” was the message I got, and with a brief window in mind, I woke up the next morning, dropped off a box truck full of old studio lighting in downtown LA (which is a story for another day) and zipped over to K-Town.

I was greeted with this bit of old school Los Angeles, one of those ornate tile, plaster and wood Hollywood hotels turned apartments left over from a time when Desi Arnaz was breaking ground doing crazy shit like shooting television on film, on adjacent sets with an audience, using multiple cameras (shock) at once.  All firsts for Hollywood.  All standard business today, its significance lost on a culture of consumerism.  Walking into one of these old classics always makes me consider and reconsider the sliding bar of pioneering and how quickly it can be taken for granted.  Until you stand in one of these old buildings, you might not quite get a taste of the history that vapid LA truly has to offer.

First impressions always go a long way for me, the first thing that comes across was BB’s ability to laugh at just about anything.

But its the little stuff you keep around for inspiration which often tells the real story about people.

We chatted for quite a long time about street art in the UK, running down the list of mutual friends we have and the other list of artists we both admired.  Of all the passionate discussions I thought I would ever have sitting in LA, the critical vitality of European Street Art was fairly close to the last topic in my mind.  Color me both surprised and refreshed in the inland Pacific breeze.

Soon enough I got a good look at some canvases,

and under protest,

some killer sketches she has in the works:

This was all really just the small talk serving as the prelude to local world domination and grand plans for the future.

The greatest thing about this afternoon, beyond finally getting to see some of BB’s work in person, was discovering that she is yet another name on my list of favorite artists out there who suffered the agony of squaresville for years before reaching a breaking point, quitting the corporate adventure, and jumping in to the unknown of the creative world full time.  You certainly dont have to do this to call yourself an artist, but well, when you do, you get membership into a special club.  For certain.

Clocks persist, as they often relentlessly do, and we were off: one to an airport, destined for foreign currency and higher latitude; the other back to the socked in fog of the beach, sinking into the oblivion of a lost weekend that not even the most isolated rock off Nevada’s least traveled mountain pass could work out.

Not before, however, we were both sucked into another ten minutes of marveling at the lobby of this building.  There are certainly many like it in LA, surely far too many to even be worth counting, but Ive never seen buildings like this anywhere else in my travels.  Its just- Los Angeles.  That thing in a Lynch movie that appears to be normal, but just, well, isnt.  Must be fun to live in a spot like this, but ultimately, I suppose it would just become home.  Hell, the Chateau Marmont eventually lost its glitz and became home to some people…

Looking forward to more stuff from BB and hopefully an adventure or two along the way, stay tuned…

Make sure to take a peek at BB Nielsen’s work online at http://9thecho.com/

Sometimes, in this life, there is nothing better than the right kind of stalker.  Gotta be cautious though, if you are not careful you might wind up rolling down grassy hills and carving names into the tops of trees under the setting, last week of summer sun; the same way you did in the third or fourth grade (or wished you had), when everything was universally so much simpler.

Psssh, as if that would ever happen…  sigh.  Perhaps the next time there is something beautiful to shoot, this girl might be around and if Im lucky, I’ll still have her attention.

In the meantime, you can read her full interview (and check out Natalia’s great photos) at Natalia Mantini‘s Meow Blog on The Hundreds here!

And well, if you are feeling social:

http://twitter.com/hattie_watson

http://twitter.com/nataliabrutalia

and while we’re at it:

http://twitter.com/daveraphael