This is the last of my scans of photographs from 1980/1981 from in or around SoHo. I saved this for last because it's different from the rest. There's no nuance and ambiguity, no mixed media and collage. It's just one thing, the bluntest graffiti I've ever seen. Was anyone's life in danger, 35 years ago? Nothing to do about it now. And I did nothing at the time but take a photograph. Perhaps I thought it was ironic. Who would just scrawl "Kill you" (as opposed to "Death to" a specific, named person)? Maybe somebody who just needed to say I hate everyone. I hope they've calmed down by now.
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Who owned the door?
"Who owned the door?"
I'm guessing Satan.
Had that cut into my back door with a knife a few years ago. Some kids went house to house carving it into doors and cars. And ended the night trashing artwork at a local park.
Everyone knew who did it. But, without a confession you just pat them on the head and imply they should stop being pricks.
After high school, a few of my friends went off the deep end. Others made it to college, but then found distractions in drugs, and alcohol. They hung around the university because Mommy and Daddy kept writing checks. I'll guess that "Kill You" was a cry for help that went unheeded.
That last step into adulthood can be a real doozy!!
Ah so. The earliest days of Al Qaeda just getting therir feet on the ground and testing their English in NYC.
I like the color, and composition of the photo. The colors are bright, and intense with lots of sunlight. The composition is a little disturbing. Where is the danger?
On one hand, I wish I had more context for some different conclusion. On the other hand, the photo communicates the photographer's message.
I thought all you shower-averse hippies living in SoHo were into peace and love?
I hate graffiti.
A just punishment would be to allow the victim to similarly deface the most valued property of the defendant.
In addition to the restitution owed, of course.
Scratching it into the door would be more menacing. It looks like chalk
I can't right now.
Maybe later.
I am Laslo.
This reminds me of the poem "Images" by Tyrone Green...
"Cill my landlord."
I do miss Eddie Murphy.
1974-7. NYU. The inside of one of the toilet stall doors on the 8th floor of the North Building (then the location of the film dept.)read 'WE HATE YOU' in black magic marker. It bled through every coat of paint they put over it, and within a day or so of the paint drying it was scrawled on top of the paint again anyway. I like to think the door is still there, and WE HATE YOU is as thick as a bas-relief.
80//81....totally hard core punk era....hated those assholes....ruined the club music scene with all their angry violent posturing. Bah!
Perhaps they meant Killroy.
1981 New York
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