Work of a master or just a disaster?

©KIWIE2012  

I have a question for you. When was the first art work created in the world? Of course, defining “art” can be difficult, but the oldest known prehistoric pieces are the series of Stone Age petroglyphs discovered during the 1990s in India. Geological investigations of ancient quartzite caves established that this rock art dates to at least 290,000 BC. But who’s to say those “holes in the wall” weren't created by some surly teenager grounded in his bedroom grotto for a week for skipping hunting practice? It may be far-fetched, but in a thousand-year’s-time when the citizens of the world uncover the base of a bridge or broken wall covered with graffiti, what will they say about it? And what will they learn about us?

Latvia’s graffiti scene started in the 80s. Soviet occupation meant strict censorship of anything anti-politics and the movement which emerged in New York in the 60s, only filtered through two decades later. It was blended with the Hip Hop dance genre, introduced through DJs and allowed youngsters a kind of freedom of expression, albeit illegal. Penalties for defacing buildings, legally jargoned ‘malicious hooliganism’, included a 3-5 year prison sentence or exclusion from the Young Communist League. A short walk around Riga’s city streets shows the consequences if caught were not a big enough threat to deter the painters, then and now.

Known Latvian street artist KIWIE painted his first piece in 2004 but was influenced during his childhood. “I remember when I first saw something from graffiti when I was only a kid…Somebody just came and painted the wall without asking anyone for permission. There was this "I want to know" feeling and I wanted to be a part of this game. Then I just jumped in the train. It was pretty fast. One day you're sketching, another doing a wall in Graffiti Jam.”

When he says “jam” he’s not referring to a condiment for your morning toast. As a culture, graffiti and street art has its own language, which is part and parcel of belonging to this crowd. Words or phrases like “cannon”, “dress-up” or “hat” are not what they seem. (See below for definitions.) Identity is everything – or rather, becoming known but staying hidden, is the objective. KIWIE said: “Friends know me, some other people know me as well. A lot of people I know don't know what I’m actually doing. I try to not mix my normal identity with the street world. I want my works to be famous, not my face. I'm not doing something bad to walls; I'm just putting some colour on it. I’m living once and a pretty damn short time, so I need to leave something behind me.

“At the start it was because of fun and turned out to be a lifestyle and a part of me. It's still fun. I can't imagine myself working in some coffee shop. All the time I want to do more, because I know I can do better and better. Even if it seems, “This is it!” I could do better. This feeling, it's always with me. I want to create a new style and in order to do that I need to do a lot.”

Regarding those who own the buildings getting graffitied, KIWIE said: “Mostly they say: “Now you’ve got yourself in big trouble, boy!” But then you realise it's because you put some colour on their wall and you start to laugh. It's the same as everywhere. It depends on the damage. If the owner of building is suing you, then you’ve got some pretty big trouble. Four years in jail. But you need to be some badass [for that to happen].”

Calling graffiti and street art the same thing is the same as saying there’s no difference between a lion and a zebra. “To explain better, true graffiti is about “bombing” - to take over a city and trains and all other places, wherever you can get to, and do some damage. Here it's about speed, to do everything as fast as possible and get out. It's about writing your name so everyone can read it and remember. That's the main goal for graffiti writers. But street art is something totally different. It's not about damage, it's about beautiful pictures and funny or not so funny…ironic paintings. Mostly it's with some kind of social message. In one word, street art is “sweet”, graffiti is “aggressive”. But nowadays it's pretty much mixing together, so it might be confusing to understand what is what.”

And confusing for those who try to give artistic merit to the work. “But then, why do you buy a big black painting with a small pink dot in the middle spending $15,000? It is and it's not art at the same time. And that's the beauty of it, I think. It depends on what kind of eyes you're looking with. For example, if you see a tag on street, a crappy one, you say, “Damn you little ****!” And then you see the same tag in a fashion magazine on some lady's dress designed by some famous fashion designer and you say: “Well this is so original; I want to spend my savings on this!” I believe that art is everything that is created by humans. Without so called “art”, people would not be able to build houses, cities, to survive. I believe art is not just about a beautiful picture, it's about how you think and do stuff.”

A misconception from those who dislike the street art is that artists try to get a piece done as quickly as possible with no thought about what’s being painted or where it’s being placed. KIWIE said the way he chooses a location for his work is always done with open eyes. “I like to plan my spots but sometimes it's pretty much spontaneous. It depends. I choose old walls, so when you see my character somewhere it's a sign that this building needs cosmetic rebuilding.”

The time it takes to create a piece depends on several factors. “If the spot is quiet, about 20-30 minutes, if it's a rush and you need to hide all the time one to two hours, if it's a big wall around eight hours.” Street artists are not motivated by the thought that there’s a blank wall or fence and because no one lives in that burned out house it’s an open invitation for defacing. There are unwritten rules about where you can and where you shouldn’t place your work. “That's how you understand if the painter a good painter or just a “toy”, which a kid who doesn't understand much about graffiti, and doesn't know the rules,” KIWIE explained. “Good painters will never do damage to important historic buildings…Although here in Riga it's pretty hard to say, which buildings are historical, because mostly the most shitty looking walls belong to historical buildings. I think it depends on the place and artist. No one will do a tag on the monument of freedom for sure.”

It’s tagging that can give a city an undesirable look, however. An artist’s tag is their mark of identification, and contributes to recognition. This is what many politicians and citizens see as vandalism, rather than something that enhances a street’s appearance. A seven-second scrawl across a concrete barricade, compared with a multi-coloured mural are as dissimilar as chalk and cheese.

There have been attempts to curb the spread of graffiti around Riga through organised campaigns at pedestrian tunnels and building managers covering work as soon as they see it. This has not deterred the artists though. Perhaps part of the issue is accessibility to supplies. “It's pretty easy because we have some shops here which provide us with materials,” KIWIE said. “…The face of city is changing all the time.” And it’s not always under the cover of darkness. KIWIE has been commissioned to paint his signature character around Riga. “People are asking me to paint all kind of stuff. Even some walls in the city centre. There was a situation when I was doing a picture of a character, and a security guy come up to me and asked if I did this. I said, “No, what the …? I'm just taking picture.” And he just said, “If you find who did this, tell him to do another on the wall next to this one.” And that's not the first time.”

It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but doesn’t the saying go that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Unless serious funding is allocated to wipe out all graffiti – including the murals, stencil works and stickers popping up – this is a culture which will continue to have a voice and place around Riga and throughout Latvia. “I think because that we're so small and live in some weird place called The Baltics - a lot of people ask where it is - we generate our own style, so when artists from other countries visit Latvia, they're surprised about what's going on in streets and the scene.”

So, eyesore or an ornament of history? Only time will tell.

Definitions:

Cannon: A slang term for spray paint cans. This term is thought to originate in Brooklyn, New York.
Dress-up: To completely write all over a specific area like a door-way, wall or window that is untouched.
Hat (Honour-Amongst-Thieves): A person who is described as wearing a “hat” is an artist who is considered trustworthy in the graffiti community. They know a lot of information about artists but don’t tell the authorities.

A coffee house called Kafka

Gone are the days in Latvia where a traditional cup of black tea with a slice of lemon and a spoonful of honey were ordered at a local cafe. Nowadays, coffee is likely to be the beverage of choice. But in a burgeoning market where milky recreations attempt to pass themselves off as a proper cup of java the trained baristas are digging in their heels, remaining faithful to the old “true brew” methods.

Zane Abele-Ploks, owner and manager of Kafka, situated in Old Riga, was taught the process at an early age.

“As long as I can recall, I’ve always been quite sensitive about coffee. If we’re to blame previous generations for how we as individualities turn out to be, then certainly this passion for coffee has to do with “make some coffee”. [My parents] had instructed me in the process of making Turkish coffee. Someone would grind the beans in a manual copper grinder for me, and then I’d do all that [ibrik] magic on my own as the grownups laughed through their conversations in the living room. A bit lonely, but certainly it paid well in compliments and extras I could exchange for this coffee service of mine. At that age just like most of kids, I wasn’t a coffee drinker myself, so the only quality control I could do was olfactory. I loved the aroma of the drink, but strongly disliked the sludgy texture of the coffee made by Turkish tradition.”

“As time went, my parents dropped the time consuming ibrik tradition in favor of a fancy drip coffee machine from Germany and a rather stinky coffee blend from some non-identifiable place in the world. I hated the stuff, and, feeling there’s more to coffee than I see around me, begun my adult life with an even more fancy home espresso machine and an Illy blend. Sometimes coffee was great, but mostly a sheer disappointment, and what I disliked about the home espresso the most was the enormous amount of time and energy I ended up investing in cleaning the equipment, and how random the pleasure of the well-made espresso really was. For a long time I blamed the coffee blend, not the machine, and so the great big search for the most delicious coffee beans begun. It could’ve gone on forever, but somewhere on my way I was introduced to the Aeropress – an ugly duckling of a coffee brewer. It’s all manual, requires almost no cleaning at all, takes up almost no kitchen space and basically I get the cleanest, most balanced and enjoyable coffee experience with the least effort. Love at first sight…”

But she said everyone has a personal preference when it comes to how they enjoy their java. “I think Latvian taste for coffee is quite all right but it‘s different from the taste of those coming from what I call “starbuckised” cultures where coffee is mainly consumed with a lot of steamed milk and all kinds of fancy syrups and additives. We’re a conservative nation, so a lot of people stick to the safe choice of a black long coffee, perhaps with some milk on the side. Though there’s a difference between coffee taken as a comfort drink – and in that case it’s most likely going to be some kind of a coffee based milk drink, and coffee taken as a taste experience or a stimulant – for those occasions straight black stuff certainly wins.

“Regarding the local taste for coffee – good coffee is one of everyday luxuries a lot of people could afford, if only they wanted to. Not everyone has enough time and money for cafes, but quality coffee – one with a traceable past, origin, freshly roasted and preferable ground just before brewing – it’s not really that much a question of budget as an issue of mindset.”

To learn more about coffee production she travelled to different coffee origins, learned from roasters both in Europe and USA and trained in Germany and Austria. She regularly attends seminars and events to get inspiration and “energy” which enable her to explore more. A month ago she was in London for that reason, but realised “the whole scene is dominated by Aussies and Kiwis”. She said the disappointing thing is everyone is doing the same thing with their coffee because it’s trendy. “It seems for such a big market it should be more experimental.”

She said the larger coffee chains don’t affect her business negatively just because they are bigger. “Latvians have a saying “kur ir, tur rodas.” I strongly believe in competition. Only if there are different options, different places and traditions and brewing methods available is there’s an opportunity for public taste to evolve, develop. There are still very few places in Riga where one can taste coffee brewed in any other way but espresso – so from coffee perspective I wouldn’t say there’s really an issue of competition.”

However, Zane said she doesn’t get to visit other cafes as often as she would need to comment on whether coffee houses overlook these important aspects. “Constant perfection is something to strive for, but keeping common sense – no one can be perfect all the time, right? As much as cafes can keep striving for consistently good quality, customers can really help by demanding the best, and saying it aloud if they’re not happy with what they’ve been served. Only if they don’t “keep mum”, the coffee, service or just about anything can be improved, right?

“The most universal rule for great coffee experience lies in knowing what you want – just like with anything in life, I believe. From a more down to earth perspective: properly stored beans with traceable and preferably not too distant roast date; clean, well-maintained equipment. That applies to home coffee connoisseurs as much as professionals. Most often overlooked are water kettles, grown in scale, dirty jugs and poor quality water. Another thing is that over steeping coffee to supposedly make it stronger – it just doesn’t really work that way. The best balance of taste and aromatics can be achieved in less than four minutes of ground coffee contact with water. Usually even less – like espresso is a matter of seconds, Aeropress – a minute of ground coffee and water contact, drip and French press – a bit more than three minutes.”

She sources her beans mostly from suppliers and roasters in Estonia and Lithuania so she has more control over the quality of the coffee she serves. In time she hopes to hold more “cupping sessions” where people interested in coffee can come and taste up to 12 brew profiles. “You’re not actually drinking a lot of coffee but it is a lot of sensory experience. You can smell it – figure out what you feel.”