21 Vignettes
Street Art in Portugal and Spain
“A work of Art is completed by the Viewer.”
Marcel Duchamp
Street art, for me, is a moving meditation. While walking the Caminho Português toward Santiago de Compostela, Charlotte and I encountered many murals, stencils, and stickers. Viewing them helped me manage my frailty and painful setbacks while walking for 15 days from Porto to Santiago de Compostela. In addition to my walking companions from Ireland, Canada, Germany, Australia, and Portugal, these random samples of street art buoyed my spirits.
At one time, these examples of urban art were viewed as vandalism detrimental to the civic order. Now, they are tolerated, even celebrated. In any case, they spoke to us. Most had no accompanying texts, just images of people or animals. The figures in these “21 Vignettes” did speak to me. Perhaps they will address you as well.
I have listened to these figures and given them my own voice. The artists in no way verbalized them or gave instructions about their intentions.
May you carry on your own conversations with them as you walk on your own paths.
Bom caminho!
Buen camino!
*****

Caldas de Reis, Galicia, Spain, unknown artist
I am Venilia
Vignette 1
The River Umia used to flow here.
Neptune and I intertwined down below.
He did not rescue me but left me for Salacia and her salt waters.
You know, as goddess of these quietly flowing waters and springs, I led him here to Caldas des Reis.
Hot springs brought the arthritic Romans,
who passed me by.
What about me? Do you think it’s fun to be bent out of shape, stuck here,
unrequited?
Do you think I still look pretty?
sexy?
You should have seen me then.
Neptune liked my flipper.
He found it a little kinky.
The fishy thing, that is.
*****

Oceanus
Vignette 2
No, it is not a yoga pose.
There is no Namaste on my face.
Ol’ Neptune froze me here,
next to Venilia, my girlfriend at the time.
She said I was too old for her.
As if a goddess is some perky part-time summer help
for the tourists at the hot springs.
Also, I’m not some god of snakes.
Those are my curlies, sort of reverse dreadlocks.
I liked to swim, that’s how I met Venilia.
You know that I also have a fishtail, don’t you?
Oh wait, you can’t see it.
We were an item until that overrated god struck me with his trident.
He didn’t care for the Greeks, gods or not.
Even though she’s on my right, I can’t have her.
Or even have a swim in the river just beyond my head.
*****
Neocrast
Vignette 3

Neocrast
Vignette 3
Do I intimidate you?
A grappler
MMA cage fighter
getting in your face
just to take you down.
I’m actually quite irenic
once I defeat you.
Do you think all the yellow
makes me look insincere?
Quick.
Your peremptory
answer.
You thought I was dense, right?
Admit it.
*****
Cronoloxía by Lucía Perdiz Davila, 2015, Parque de Belvis,
Santiago de Compostela, Galicia, Spain
Sisyphus 2.0
Vignette 4.
I don’t like labels.
It’s enough to deal with these blocks
without learned references to you-know-who.
Everyone asks the same question:
What monstrous crime did you commit to deserve such a fate?
Nothing!
The balance of power had to be restored.
Excess of bad karma from Sisyphus.
And it was my fate
to be the one who had to placate
some gods.
for what?
“Self -aggrandizing craftiness”
Unlike the other dude,
I killed no travelers or guests. Therefore, I did not displease Zeus.
Ordinary greed was all.
Since there were no offenses against the Xenia,
I got to choose
the balancing force.
My bright idea was the blocks.
Getting started was harder, but
I could rest once in a while.
The ride down is always bumpy.
*****
Mr. Dheo, Rua do Bonjardim/Rua Alferes Malheiro (Trinidade) – Porto – Portugal
Mr. Dheo
Vignette 5.
tok a
tok a
tok a
tok a
tok a
tok a
tok a
pfffffffff
ffffffffffff
fffffffffff
fffffffffff
fffffffffff
ffffffff
ffffffffffffff
ffffffffffff
fffffffffff
I’ll talk in between spraying.
Torre des Clérigos I spray with pathos.
Noble and loyal, I paint an ethos.
Mayor Rio couldn’t fire this oddity.
Masked, I have become a commodity.
Urban interventions are my m.o.
See for yourself! I am Mr. Dheo
appearing in you in many a guise.
Who am I really? I am just your eyes.
pfffffffff
ffffffffffff
fffffffffff
fffffffffff
fffffffffft
*****

Tino and João
Vignette 6.
You, hypocrite lecteur,
are part of this conversation.
Tino:
Dream
Believe
Fight
Achieve
João:
You’re not quitting?
Tino:
a rose
a heart
a pose
an art
João:
You’re not deleting?
Tino:
I listen to my chain
Thug is what I am
I point to my pain
Facebook is a sham
João:
You’re not disappearing?
Tino:
Sometimes these gestures
are just too hollow.
Sometimes these junctures
are good to Unfollow.
João:
My brother’s niceness
reveals a flâneur.
You are my likeness,
hypocrite poseur.
*****

Names Withheld
Vignette 7.
Dear Diary,
I know the official picture looks funny.
But let me explain.
My love of geometry
led me to paint
interlocking hearts
adjacent squares
parabolic curves.
Atop the cliffs
overlooking the Caminho Português
were these huge boulders
gleaming in the sun.
Lowering myself from a rope,
I applied my stencils
in total darkness.
It rained.
It fell.
He died.
The authorities found
no cause for the tumbling rock
crushing him.
Of course, I did not come forward.
Why would I?
I caused nothing.
Then why am I
explaining these things
to myself?
*****
Willie, Billie, and Millie
Vignette 8.
We’re all scrunched together.
We twirl whirl curl and furl
our arms and hands and legs,
those pegs scrambled up like reddened eggs.
Our three smiles are wiles,
Styles we use to hide
what’s behind the eyes
of us merry pranksters.
For now, we are floating over a construction site
gloating over our seduction and spite.
Willie likes to prank
Billie likes to yank
Millie likes to shank
someone
once Noz gives the nod.
*****
by Costah
Porto, Portugal
Greenie
Vignette 9.
Costah:“Why are you so angry, Pilzatar?
You know she’s out of your league.
Be happy. Just float above it all.”
Pilzatar:“Easy for you to say, Mistah Costah.
Always chirping.”
Costah:“Yeah, it’s a gift.”
Marie Elena:“What are you boys fighting about?
Costah, it’s sweet of you to have a crush
on me.
But Pilzatar,
get a grip.
It’s sweet of you too,
but I already have a boyfriend.”
Greenie:“Hey, over here! over your shoulder, Marie Elena.
What happened to your cheek?
When I stop boinging, let me have
a closer look.”
Marie Elena:
“You’re the first person who asked me.
Greenie, do you think
I intimidate people?
Is it the purple hair?
I’ve been told to smile more.
I hate smiling on command like
some compliant American chick.
I am non-compliant without explanation.
I guess I just answered my own question.”
Greenie:
“Softly, Marie Elena,
you’ll wake him up.”
Costah: “Who?”
Pilzatar:“Who?”
Marie Elena: “Where?”
Greenie: “The guy who’s sleeping on the lawn
right beneath us.
That’s who.
More consideration, please.
Unless you want to be like
Bobo
with his perpetual doggy Oh, boy!
Less mindless merriment, Costah.
Less sour griping, Pilzatar.
Less image maintenance, Marie Elena.
Ay ! Descúlpame.
Once again, I’ve lost a chance to shut up.
Back to boinging.”
*****
Nexo
Vignette 10
Do you have the power
of creating someone?
I paint, therefore I am.
I spray, therefore they are.
My new guy lifts his arms
to embrace his Nexo.
He can choose his own name.
To his side, a couple
I sprayed into black life
holds hands, flashes peace signs.
She leans on him with love.
Crooking her back leg high,
she looks out on her world.
In blue,
Mr. Backwards Baseball Cap is texting
already looking down.
On the edge, a figure
exists in mere outline
dreaming life on the edge.
I am Nexo, making
the next one the nexus.
*****

Pedro and Inès
Vignette 11
Pedro—I hunt by day with round yellow eyes.
Inès- he’s my mouse-winner.
Treble-Clef 10 sprayed pink swirls
below my blue eyes.
we met in Coimbra
in the Garden of Tears
there Dom Pedro spied
Dona Inès de Castro
married her secretly
trysted near the spring.
King Afonso had her murdered
right there under the kissing tree.
— Why don’t you let me
tell them why we’re up here
on this wall.
—It’s not as romantic as my story.
—But mine’s truer, Inès.
We can’t fly that well anymore, so
Treble-Clef -10 painted us in as
guardians of the grotto,
entertainment for the guests at the Quinta,
warnings for all feral cats
who prey on the burrowing owls.
— Not that the cats pay any attention to us, Pedro.
*****

“Glaux”, Coimbra, Portugal
Glaux
Vignette 12
Pink-feathered
blue-beaked,
I don’t particularly portend
Death.
(1st big word I’ve been told to speak.)
I usually perch
as a little owl, Glaux,
on the shoulder of
bright-eyed Athena.
I illuminate her one dark side
to give her
whole,
not half-
vision,
seeing what others don’t.
Some call that Wisdom.
(2nd big word in my script. Treble Clef-10 is calling the shots here.)
About that death-thing,
Treble-Clef-10 abandoned
a frayed, black paintbrush,
not before painting
in white
on my black irises
ART IS DEAD
commoditized
in hotel lobbies
in hipster bars
in vaults of anonymous investors
uncoupled from the pulse of people.
Hey, I didn’t narcotize Art
(3rd big word.)
Glaux just had to elegize it.
*****

Lah
Vignette 13
translated by Gaiola
woooooaohhhhhguuuuuuuuuughuaaaaaaaoooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
let me tell you who I am not that whale ridden by the peg-leg named after an evil
king of Israel not that whale who engorged the prophet sent to rebuke (successfully)
the king of Nineveh not that Atlantic whale choked by a Titleist, saved by a balding,
fake marine biologist. My name is
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Gaiola recruited me for this gig he rides me in a saddle guides me with a rein
bides his time in the race slides his legs down my side do you see how they end
in undulating fish tails tides me over till he returns me to my primordial home
Gaiola and I are racing to win more wall space for Street Art em Portugal
already Gaiola’s head is painted over with a green splotch at my sides some tags
peek out I am eating them a pink tide washes over my flank it is pictorial blood
why am I degrading myself to do his bidding Gaiola promised me a spot in the bay
distant from the fleets seeking to make their quotas my deep call resounds
for miles just as Gaiola is his paint I am my sound.
woooooooooohgbuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
*****

Red Dog Running
Vignette 14.
Costah:
Much better now. You see? minus your love-sickness over Marie Elena you’re hovering.
Pilzatar:
I have no clue why I’m feeling so green.
Mrs. Costah:
Me neither But I also picked up a linked red collar.
Costah:
Like mine! Is it a gift from Marie Elena? or a missing patch of Red Dog?
Mrs. Costah:
From Pilbara in Australia? Did he fly here? Where is he heading? Koko, is it really you?
Pilzatar:
Am I awake? Is this happening? Aren’t we all in Portugal!
Mrs. Costah:
The bounding hobo dog turns up whenever poor souls need him.
“The stories this old dog could tell…
*****

Liluye
Vignette 15.
Have I lost my mojo?
I guess that’s not what you want to hear
from a Hawk spirit-guide.
You may have heard
how I rescued
Sapana
forced into marriage
by porcupine-man.
Buzzard and I caught her
as she pulled up
a really big wild turnip
tumbled
through the hole in the soil
down to earth
from the sky-world.
Then there was Waupee,
White Hawk.
I was his spirit-guide
helped him ascend to the sky
to capture his son and his wife
youngest daughter of Star Chief.
When Waupee arrived
in the land of Star Chief,
he did not choose animal parts
such as paws and tails
which turned their bearers into
animals that ran away.
Neither did he choose a wing and
transform into a bird.
I gave him a white feather.
He descended safely
with his wife and son.
But I digress.
My powers are spent.
You must sing to your wife
to capture her
from the sky-world.
No feather
no wide-seeing eye
no message from the spirit-world.
Just your song
and her.
Credits:
Liluye, Singing Hawk While Soaring
The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky
*****

Melia
Vignette 16
“Love Life,” that’s what Costah says.
Look, my arms are
contemplation blue
my legs long stems
a yellow orange.
Why is it easier to avert
my eyes
and float
above
than root myself
among the purple leaves
below?
Like some tree deity
I emerge from the earth
and return to it.
But I cannot return.
My arms, you see,
are tendrils
that do not reach
my pink shoes.
In and out of my legs
my arms weave
hug me tight.
Costah says
I’m too wrapped up in myself.
You noticed?
How will you
emerge from me?
*****

Tean Linpo
Vignette 17.
I look out from this
cartouche.
Worry,
lest I be just another
mummy
exhumed
from a vault deep within a temple.
Blue, yellow and lime green
are chipper enough
as is the stylish hat
with an emerging flower.
The cartouche,
Egyptian symbols
encircling my name,
protects me.
But curling stems
are not Egyptian symbols,
so really
what is shielding me?
With no line
placed at the end of the oval
no royal stature emerges.
It’s just me,
Tean Linpo.
*****

Povolhoya
Vignette 18.
Sprayed on high
as an azulejo
I fly,
a man-butterfly.
The Hopis say why
in the cocoon
I die
in total darkness
why I lie
completely broken down.
When I emerge
breathe and sigh
I do not immediately
start to fly
I sit there
to dye
myself blue
in water
in air
in fire
in earth.
My wings start
fluttering
toward the sky,
gathering strength
to vie
with the currents.
My agile wisdom
shows you
your oneness
with one another
and I pollinate
the whole of creation.
These killings
of Innocents
are inscrutable
ways to pry
beauty out of
continuous change
and save
the next seven generations.
I spread my pollen
in these words
I record for you
my silent cry,
a man-butterfly,
Povolhoya.
When I visit flowers
I produce their scent.
It attracts the opposite
sex.
Will you draw nigh?
Will you ply
your world
with my nectar–
wonder
hope
compassion
faith
charity?
Try?
*****

Kilos
Vignette 19
Do you look upon me
with fear?
Do you move away
so you’re not near?
I’m standing
right in front of
a bricked up door.
For you to enter
this passage
I must move
or
disappear.
I suppose
you will sneer
at this queer
juxtaposition
of a man of color
outlined in white.
I steer
my own life
with not one tear,
poète résigné
with a sphere
of song,
ringing racial tinnitus
longing to escape
my ear.
*****



Bella Phame
Vignette 20.
I’m trying on your green
relaxed and fresh
You’re wearing my light purple
Already more feminine
With your grown-up pink.
Watch out!
Too much of my purple will make
you
irritable
impatient
I see it in your
clenched jaw
yeah excessive green
Is making me
lazy hazy crazy.
this pace of painting
tires me out
Can we switch back
our color
signatures?
We emerge from
a little matrix
our faces to the wall
we paint
our backs to our viewers
like priests
in the old Latin Mass.
We don’t wish to be seen
painting our rites.
*****
*****

Frederico Draw
Vignette 21.
Yes
it is unfinished
so is my life
a little rough
around the edges.
My sketch pad
is this wall
my charcoals
these spray cans
my outlook
non -complaint
without explanation.
Although my face
is rough
with upturned palm
I draw you
in
to this Porto portal.
All that negative
space
is now
red
and gray and
positive.
Your returning
gaze
makes you part of
RUA collective.
Sound disruptive?
Isn’t this abandoned wall
someone’s property?
Can’t he just paint over
my canvas
with impunity?
Yes,
it is all
putrid.
That face you
contemplate
is not mine.
It is yours.
(Federico Draw belongs to Propostas Urbanas Temporarias e Reabilitaçã Intervençã e Cultural e Artística)
*****
Copyright Notice
Freedom of panorama for Portuguese works is found at Article 75, paragraph 2, point q. of the Portuguese Code of Authors’ Rights and Neighbouring Rights, covering permanent works in public spaces such as architecture and sculptures. However, it is regulated by Article 76, paragraph 1, point a., that requires attribution of the author and the identification of the name of the work for every free use, including the use of works under Portuguese freedom of panorama.
The copyright law of Spain provides a freedom of panorama provision at Article 35(2), which states that “works permanently located in parks, streets, squares or other public thoroughfares may be freely reproduced, distributed and communicated by means of paintings, drawings, photographs and audiovisual procedures.”
Commercial uses of several Spanish buildings may be restricted by virtue of trademark law. Santiago Calatrava‘s Auditorio de Tenerife can be freely photographed by tourists, but as a trademarked work since 2003, it cannot be freely used by commercial photographers and cinematographers unless the said users pay relevant fees to the owner of the building. It is also required to make a deposit to ensure the photographs are used appropriately.
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