If you promenade through the artsy-ish quarters of the city—Riverwest, the fashionable East Side or Walker’s Point—you may have noticed schools of koi. They’re the work of queer street artist Jeremy Novy.
In the traditional understanding, street art is inspired by a political Zeitgeist. Unlike sanctioned, and perhaps even commissioned, public art, street art has its roots in radical expression. It’s renegade and clandestine. It appears suddenly, delivers a message and fades away with time. Like Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat, some street artists, once recognized, become elevated to cultural icons of their era.
In Milwaukee, the street art scene is not quite what it is in the big city. An online magazine article on the genre features photos from around the world. In one, entire 19th-century facades serve as canvases for spectacular art. The article encourages artists to express themselves, but advises them to “get consent first.” That’s an argument for another bronze Fons, not a cultural revolution. Still, even planned art can have its detractors.
Case in point: An ice cream business in Milwaukee’s Historic Walker’s Point commissioned a mural for the side of its half-block long building. The weeks’-long endeavor engaged a dozen young artists. Protest ensued. The vivid, story-high, brightly colored faces, bulbous fonts and swirling designs looked too “urban” for the neighborhood gentry. They feared it would attract gangs. They won. The mural was painted over in clinical mint. The resulting tabula rasa now invites frequent gang tagging.
Meanwhile, in 2007 Novy did a photo show, “Scribble,” at the Milwaukee Gay Arts Center. His images deconstructed gang graffiti into isolated bits. At the same time, in an effort to confront urban blight with art, he painted the doors and boarded up windows of abandoned inner-city buildings. Like his predecessor street artists, (New York City’s John Fekner comes to mind), Novy’s medium consists of spray paint and a stencil. The stencil allows for speedy application. It creates uniformity as well, a signature of sorts.
After Milwaukee, Novy migrated to the “Bay,” dropped his camera and focused on his stenciled street art. San Francisco embraces its outlaw artists. Its street art scene is vibrant and very competitive. Novy quickly gained recognition and notoriety. There, beyond his famous koi, his stencilings drew from queer iconography ranging from the dearly departed drag diva, Divine, to leather guys, singlet-clad wrestlers, and rainbow-colored Care Bears. His acts of art generated lots of discussion. The dialogue was sometimes thoughtful and often bitchy. Enthusiasts gushed, detractors bashed and the artist himself rationalized. Still, even in such an art-embracing environment, one man’s artistic expression is another man’s vandalism. Again, Novy moved on, making his mark on the streets of New Orleans and elsewhere.
And now he’s back. And, speaking of drag divas, his repertoire now includes our own Dear Ruthie and Trixie Mattel. Meanwhile, the koi proliferate. And, whether classic Asian symbols of prosperity or fishy phallic imagery, ultimately, interpreting Novy’s slick carp is in the culture of the beholder.
