CYCLES Madrid – Spain, 2025 I spy a guy who used to do conceptual murals and now does kinetic sculpture. Madrid-based artist SpY began his career with clever, often humorous street interventions that disrupted everyday urban routines—turning public space into a stage for reflection and play. Over the years, his work has shifted from ephemeral gestures to ambitious sculptural installations, without losing the conceptual sharpness.
His newest piece, Cycles, debuts in Madrid – Composed of nine stainless-steel rings stacked in delicate balance, the kinetic sculpture rotates continuously, creating a hypnotic display of shifting forms and optical illusions. What appears to be a static figure one moment becomes a blur of layered motion. The piece invites viewers to question what’s stable and what’s in flux— time and movement blended as sculptural elements in themselves.
There’s a quiet tension to it all: minimal material, maximal effect. In this transition from walls to mechanical choreography, SpY stays true to his roots—reviewing what we perceive as space, systems, and being alive in the moment.
Bartek Świątecki’s “Fireflies” Illuminates a Memory From New York in a Polish Cityscape
Known for his abstract compositions that balance precision and spontaneity, Bartek Świątecki has consistently pushed the visual language of urban abstraction. His walls—featured several times on Brooklyn Street Art—often reflect a dynamic interplay of geometry, layering, and movement, evoking rhythm and structure without relying on figuration.
His newest mural, painted in Olsztyn, Poland, carries a personal connection to a recent moment far from home. “I’m sending you my new summer wall from Olsztyn, Poland. I’ve named it Fireflies,” Świątecki tells us.
“During my last trip to New York with my wife, we spent an evening in Central Park. We spread a blanket on the grass, and fireflies began to appear around us. It was a magical moment—in the heart of the city, surrounded by these tiny, twinkling lights, we felt like we were in a completely different world.”
It’s a fitting gesture: in Świątecki’s work, urban density and openness coexist. Here, as in New York’s Central Park, there’s a sense of quiet order amid the unpredictable, a space where something fleeting and luminous might appear.
“I decided to name my new wall ‘Fireflies’ in honor of that moment—that fusion of nature and city, that subtle magic that can be found even in the midst of chaos.“
This week’s collection leans toward graffiti—city writers rekindling a romance with old styles, tracing our urban aesthetic lineage with fresh hands, new eyes, and scribes. Beyond that, the crime stats continue their long downward drift, despite some corporate outlets insisting our city is in daily chaos, as if Bedlam had moved in. Immigrants are valued members of New York’s sense of community and multi-culture, as ever, but a strangely well-funded machine would have you think differently- if they could. NYC is far more youthful, open-hearted, and innovative than that kind of thinking can imagine.
National heaviness seeps into the local air: relentless headlines, instability abroad, inhumanity and warmaking, higher costs, service cuts to some of the most in need, attacks on institutions—and on your search for sanity. You can feel it rumbling like the subway underneath: a slow, grinding disquiet, the weight of evident inequalities, the steady drip of absurdity and distraction.
Maybe that’s why the streets speak in heightened tones: sometimes glorious, other times surreal, opaque, saccharine, macabre. Rage simmers alongside wistful nostalgia. Escapism too. As old certainties dissolve, strange new forms begin to emerge. The atmosphere feels charged—thick with tension, possibility, change.
Everyone agrees New York is hot this summer—oppressively so—until, suddenly, there’s a breeze, a clear sky, and you exhale. Let’s go for a walk. How much of what is seen is real? How much is perception? How much is projection? Hard to say. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s all part of the picture.
Here’s our weekly interview with the street, this week including Couch, D30, Dopamine, Homesick, Jappy Agoncillo, Kam S. Art, KEG, Nekst (tribute), RatchiNYC, Sefu, SMLZ, Sower Kerd, Wild West, and Zoot.
Street art reflects the aspirations, connections, and conflicts of society back to us—often unfiltered and always direct. That’s the case with “No Pain, No Flowers,” a striking new installation by Italian artist Bifido, created for the MIAU Fanzara festival in Spain. The wheatpasted photo-portrait features a teenage girl with facial piercings, caught in a moment that feels emotionally raw and universally familiar. She’s defiant yet fragile, bright but uncertain—a portrait of adolescence that hits with clarity, and rings true.
Known for his emotionally resonant paste-ups, Bifido has appeared on Brooklyn Street Art numerous times over the years. Based in Naples, he is celebrated for using photography to explore youth, vulnerability, and psychological tension. Children and teenagers are his recurring subjects, and his work often channels a personal, autobiographical undercurrent: “I am drawn to the anxieties, melancholy, expectations, fragilities, and turmoil of that age in relation to society and its absurd rules.”
MIAU Fanzara, held annually in a small village of about 250 residents, has become a rare model for community-centered urban art. With no corporate sponsorship and no censorship, artists are hosted by local families, creating a powerful sense of shared experience. As Bifido puts it, “It’s a place where urban art truly connects with the local fabric.” With no brand managers or gatekeeping curators calling the shots, the lineup hits closer to the kind of unfiltered street art you see in the wild.
“I am drawn to the anxieties, melancholy, expectations, fragilities, and turmoil of that age in relation to society and its absurd rules.”
When confronted with this larger-than-life face on the street, it’s clear that the mural draws its power from Bifido’s unwavering authenticity. This is not a retouched Photoshopped or AI-generated confection. You’ve met this person in your life, at your school, or in your living room at home. Additionally, the artist isn’t speaking from a distant, sociological standpoint only – he is channeling lived experience. In the context of the festival, Bifido’s autobiographical approach meshes with the open, authentic environment of Fanzara. The portrait’s model might be a specific girl, but in a sense, she is every young person (and the young version of each of us). By placing her image in the streets, Bifido turns the town into a gallery of real life – precisely the kind of integration of art and daily experience that MIAU Fanzara champions.
This new piece lives on Calle Purísima, suddenly appearing among the winding streets of Fanzara, now home to more than 100 murals from artists across the globe. In this intimate setting, Bifido’s portrait blooms not just as a visual artwork, but as a symbol of resilience. The title “No Pain, No Flowers” suggests a hard truth: beauty often comes from struggle. Yes, darling. Bring me my flowers.
If you know Shepard Fairey, then you already know: he’s never been one to sit back and let the powers that be go unchecked, from his own plugged-in and purposeful wiseguy perspective. From Andre the Giant Has a Posse wheatpastes in the ’90s to “Hope” posters on campaign walls, his work straddles the intersections of street art, punk defiance, political critique, and populist propaganda with a purpose. He’s a true lifer—rooted in skate culture, DIY ethos, anti-authoritarian graphics, and a conviction that art can and should speak truth to power.
In this new poster campaign, DEI-TY, Shepard zeroes in on a cultural moment when long-standing efforts to make society more inclusive are being flipped upside down by those seeking to divide and conquer. Always direct, yet heavy with symbolism and art/design history, the new poster artwork pulls from Orwellian surveillance aesthetics and throws an unmistakable orange glow over its intended subject. Yes, it’s Trump—but it’s also a larger warning learned from our human history to beware of personality cults, shallow populism, and manufactured outrage.
What follows is a wide-ranging interview that captures Fairey’s frustration, clarity, and urgency—served up with the kind of seasoned insight that comes from decades of navigating art, activism, and political absurdity. Now you’ll see a sharpness in his tone that speaks to the times: an artist who considers the stakes clearly and isn’t mincing words. If you’ve followed his career, you’ll recognize the heat generated by his signature mix of bold graphics and civic fire. If you’re new to it, welcome to the resistance—art’s not dead, and Fairey’s not done.
At the end of the article, you’ll find a selection of previous works that speak to the arc of Shepard’s creative and cultural engagement. Youcan also download the new DEI-TY poster for free, to print, paste, share, and use however you see fit. Once again Fairey demonstrates that in the face of rising intolerance and authoritarian power plays, silence is complicity—and art is one hell of a megaphone.
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BSA: Your poster flips the acronym DEI from a framework for equity into a confrontation with authoritarian ego. In a list of topics to address, what gave you the spark for this specific artwork?
Shepard Fairey: Of course, the verbal assault on the DEI programs at colleges and corporations infuriated me, but it became something more serious when Trump began to rescind funding to colleges and deny contracts to companies with DEI programs. I think Trump attacks DEI because he associates it with “woke” people who don’t support him. The bottom line is that Trump rewards those who stroke his ego and punishes those who don’t. Having someone that shallow and petty influence policies that impact millions is incredibly dangerous. In my original post, I laid out the definitions of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion because they are concepts that are pretty hard for a rational, fair-minded person to disagree with. Here they are again:
Diversity: the condition of having or being composed of differing elements: variety.
Equity: the quality of being fair and impartial.
Inclusion: the act or practice of including people who have historically been excluded (often because of their race, gender, sexuality, or disability).
BSA: Many times, you have critiqued cults of personality and authoritarianism with your work. In DEI-TY, the term “self-proclaimed deity” seems aimed squarely at that. Is it the figure or the ideology that folks have beef with?
Shepard Fairey: Both. I’ve described Trump, the specific “self-proclaimed deity” referred to in the print, as the festering zit that is the hideous manifestation of the underlying bacteria. The analogy isn’t entirely accurate, though, because in Trump’s case, his influence makes the bacteria even more toxic. It’s a brutal cycle. Trump encourages his followers to scapegoat the vulnerable, vocalize and act on their worst prejudices, and then he feels emboldened to behave like a dictator and double down on the most inflammatory rhetoric and cruel policies. This is a cycle and culture that erodes civility and democracy.
BSA: You’re offering these prints as free downloads, which suggests a sense of urgency and mass mobilization. Do you see DEI-TY as part of a larger visual resistance? How do you hope people will use it?
Shepard Fairey: I always want people to mobilize. I use my art to inspire people to care, because they won’t act if they don’t care. Some of my pieces, such as DEI-TY, can also serve as tools to convey an idea… tools I’d like anyone to be able to use if they are inspired. Visibility for a counter-narrative is essential to mobilizing people and shifting culture.
BSA: How do people navigate the increasing weaponization of terms like “DEI” in political and media discourse? Do you see this poster as an intervention in a culture war? As an aside, how much of this is a genuine concern to average people, and how much is ginned up to get us to fight with each other?
Shepard Fairey: DEI should be unassailable as an idea. Somehow, Trump has turned people against bedrock principles of American philosophy like diversity, equity, and inclusion, which should be universal, while normalizing lying, scapegoating, and undermining democracy, all of which should be universally unacceptable. Yes, the culture war is his aim, and the attacks on DEI don’t impact everyone directly, but I’m a believer in the concept that injustice anywhere threatens justice everywhere.
BSA: This new imagery echoes some of your earlier pieces that blend Orwellian surveillance aesthetics with activist messaging. What’s different about DEI-TY?
Shepard Fairey: You’re right about the Orwellian aesthetic. Trump is a fascist and a menace. He doesn’t genuinely believe in freedom, except for the freedom to be a dictator. He is very Big Brother-esque in his approach to purging dissenters from government and education. The main difference is that this print uses orange (for obvious reasons) and this print addresses general principles AND specific villains. I’d love for 1984 to be irrelevant, but unfortunately, it might be more relevant in this moment than ever before in U.S. history.
SHEPARD IS OFFERING THESE TWO NEW POSTERS ABOVE FOR FREE. CLICK HERE FOR A FREE DOWNLOAD
Following are a few from the vault from Fairey that run parallel in political, social, and stylistic spirit.
Statement from Shepard Fairey for the release of the new poster:
“Please read the words DIVERSITY, EQUITY, and INCLUSION and think deeply about their meaning – individually and collectively.
Diversity: the condition of having or being composed of differing elements: variety.
Equity: the quality of being fair and impartial.
Inclusion: the act or practice of including people who have historically been excluded (often because of their race, gender, sexuality, or disability).
DEl is meant only to enhance the priority of our institutions and workplaces to provide equal opportunity to the many groups that make up our beautifully diverse nation.
These formerly unassailable ideas have been aspirationally woven into our nation’s entire history, even if our idea of who is equal has thankfully evolved to include more than just white men.
From the Declaration of Independence to the 14th Amendment granting equal protection for all citizens, to the 15th Amendment granting Black men the right to vote, to the
19th Amendment granting women the right to vote, to the Civil Rights Act outlawing discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin, we have moved toward a more fair and less discriminatory society. The symbolism of the Statue of Liberty as a welcoming beacon to those fleeing forms of discrimination to find refuge in the melting pot of the US is a cornerstone of the American story. The current attack on DEl is nothing less than a betrayal of American values and aspirations. The attack on DEl is very literally a Republican policy of discriminating against those who oppose discrimination in their businesses and organizations.
When have racism, sexism, homophobia, or the like been okay in plain sight from our leadership, much less turned into law that punishes those trying to provide equality? I feel like I’m in a dystopian mirror world. Terrifyingly, this is here and now, and catalyzed mainly by one power-hungry narcissist who is a deranged, egomaniacal, insecure, tyrannical, yapster. If you oppose the mean-spirited embrace of discrimination like I do, please use every tool at your disposal to push back, especially by voting in EVERY election, including the midterms. We have power in numbers if we use it!”
The sidewalks sizzle and the city purrs with heat and hustle. It’s your daily movie out here.
July is in full swing, and the summer nights are a little looser around the edges between important holidays and commitments. At MoMA, the Friday crowds are drifting through galleries to the low thump of downtown DJs tucked into corners of the atrium—spinning ambient loops, soulful edits, and the occasional dance-floor memory into the marble echo chamber. Outside, the sculpture garden murmurs with art talk… and a sort of slow-motion flirtation.
The NYC mayoral race is, in its way, a kind of performance art—though less conceptual than cynical – with people from every crevice finding fault and stirring fear about the presumptive winner, Mandami. With prices everywhere still climbing, the city’s rhetoric is starting to sound like an old podcast that you thought was deleted. Yak yak yak. On the national stage, the Trump saga soldiers on—ever orbiting a surreal mix of court filings, celebrity fallout, international threats, hatchet budget cuts, and the ever-present Epstein shadows. With this constant drone of chaos, much of this is no longer shocking, just strangely ambient, a screensaver cycle. Ignore these proceedings at your peril.
On the walls and rooftops, there’s a different story unfolding. Some have observed that graffiti writers whose names once seemed fossilized in memory or confined to old flicks and zines—have been spotted again, dropping clean throwies and sharp tags on buffed surfaces from Bushwick to the Bowery. You’ll be biking past an auto-body shop or abandoned roll gate and do a double-take: Was that fresh?
The sun bounces off chrome and scaffolding, and somewhere near Broadway and Broome, you catch yourself squinting up at a cast-iron cornice—gargoyles crouched in cool shadows. Is that a cherub? Is it… flipping you off? Perhaps it’s just the heat, or the cumulative effect of too many hateful headlines. Don’t stop. Rooftops beckon, turntables whirl, community gardens bustle. It’s not utopia. But it’s yours.
Here’s a glimpse of NYC graffiti, street art, and murals captured in Red Hook, Gowanus, Bushwick…in this week’s survey, including Chris RWK, DeGrupo, Espo, EXR, Humble, Ian Cinco, John Echo, Manuel Alejandro, Mdot, MSK Kings, Qzar, Red Rum, Rime, Sharpy, Tess, and Zimer.
Kromatic de sant Andreu de la Barca, a unos 25 km de Barcelona.
Nestled just outside Barcelona, Sant Andreu de la Barca hosted the first-ever Kromatic Festival, a bold venture in large-scale street art that ran from June 3 to June 23, 2025 — transforming municipal walls into immersive murals and hopefully igniting community dialogue.
This inaugural edition featured seven expansive murals, each selected through a mix of curated invitations and an open-call process, under the artistic direction of Rebobinart in partnership with the Ajuntament de Sant Andreu de la Barca and support from the Generalitat de Catalunya.
As is often the case today, the festival extended well beyond painting walls: guided mural tours, a children’s graffiti workshop, creative hands-on zones, and a lively closing celebration at Parc Central on June 14 – with neighbors and families in tow. Our special thanks to photographer Lluis Olive-Bulbena for sharing these images with BSA readers.
BSA Special Edition LOVE LETTERS TO THE CITY at Urban Nation Museum Newly released Interview snippet with curator Michelle Houston and Steven P. Harrington
The LOVE LETTERS TO THE CITY exhibition at Berlin’s Urban Nation Museum continues to evolve, provoke, and inspire—inviting new eyes and fresh conversations nearly a year since its debut. Curated by Michelle Houston, the show features over 50 artists from Berlin and around the globe, each offering their own “letter” to the city in the form of street art, sculpture, video, photography, and installation.
In this short video, BSA’s Steven P. Harrington sits down with Houston to revisit the themes driving the exhibition—urban transformation, inequality, climate crisis, and the radical hope that public art can awaken something deeper in our cities. Together, they explore the continued resonance of works by icons like Banksy, Lady Pink, Shepard Fairey, and Vhils, alongside emerging voices and Berlin-based practitioners such as Rocco and His Brothers, Susanna Jerger, and Jazoo Yang.
With the show remaining open for at least another year, this is your reminder: don’t miss the chance to experience a rare international dialogue unfolding inside—and outside—the walls of the museum. It’s not just a show. It’s an ongoing conversation between artists and the city.
Here in Brooklyn we move through a lush delirium—a rhapsody in blue and green, thick with summer and song, strident prose, a bit of jazz. In certain pockets of creativity the aerosol fumes from many a graff writer and mural painter are landing like a cloud on your sweaty skin and sliding off into the sewer below. The echos of Saturday night stereo is pounding in our memories with the adorable Atlanta hedonism of Bunna Summa and the swooning Puerto Rican charms of suavicito Bad Bunny. Vices and voices lilt through the neighborhood at night; a humidity induced dream that confirms we are all “New Yol” now.
Yes, the world feels upside down—truths twisted, systems slipping, war drums on many fronts—but for now it’s summer in Brooklyn, and we’re still in love. So let’s take our time… dance in the streets, drift across rooftops, wander the train tracks. Let the city hold us a little longer.
Here’s a glimpse of NYC graffiti, street art, and murals captured in this week’s survey, including Below Key, Ed Roth, EXR, Fumero, ICU463, Klepo One, Luch, Never Satisfied, Nick Walker, Sonni, TQRY, and Wizard Skull.
For three days in early June, the streets of Mollet del Vallès echoed with the clatter of ladders, the hiss of spray cans, and the upbeat pulse of DJs and market stalls. Artists from across Spain and beyond—including Laia, Uriginal, Sfhir, Lily Brik, Digo.Art, and Zurik—brought their visions to life on walls around the city, turning otherwise ordinary facades into large-scale, camera-ready installations. At first glance, the scene resembled the familiar format of the community-driven mural festivals that have blossomed across Europe over the past two decades. But here, the origin story takes a turn: this wasn’t a grassroots uprising to reclaim public space. This was a polished production by a commercial mural company with a massive artist roster and an even bigger understanding of branding, translating the original aesthetic of rebellion into a marketable vibe.
It’s easy to feel a pang of cynicism at what looks like another chapter in the ongoing domestication of street culture. Born in the neglected and often criminalized neighborhoods of 1970s New York, graffiti and the young brown/black/white kids who created it emerged with defiance, urgency, and a distinctly anti-authoritarian voice. The DIY energy and coded visual languages that fueled the subsequent Street Art scene once sparked public outrage and discussed topics that moved conversations on the street, but sometimes now are replaced with client briefs and sponsored walls. The mural isn’t a transgression—it’s a deliverable. Need a splash of urban edge for your brand? Book a mural. Want to boost team morale? Gather the staff for a graffiti-themed bonding exercise.
But the story doesn’t end there. Many of the artists involved in these commercial projects are veterans of illegal walls and train yards. They bring serious technique and deep cultural fluency to every surface they touch. And here lies the paradox of contemporary muralism: the best of these artists walk a fine line between selling out and showing up, managing to deliver public art that retains authenticity even when it’s wrapped in a marketing package. For some, the deal is worth it—access to large walls, financial stability, and the freedom to paint without looking over your shoulder.
We don’t need to mythologize the past to see how far things have shifted, and in many cases, improved. Some of the earliest street art festivals were organized by galleries and business owners who represented the same artists. Presumably, these artists are helping to pay the rent and developing their body of work. As “outside” as it once was, Street art is no longer the outsider; it’s part of the cultural toolkit, rolled out to energize neighborhoods, attract foot traffic, and present celebratory versions of “local identity.” The murals in Mollet del Vallès may not spark revolution or defy authority, but they do offer a snapshot of where street art stands today. This is what happens when “counterculture” trades its balaclava for a business card and becomes “culture”.
Liz Munsell, Greg Tate (ed.): Writing the Future: Basquiat and the Hip-Hop Generation
Reprinted from the original review.
The catalogue Writing the Future: Basquiat and the Hip-Hop Generation, accompanying the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston exhibition, is as multifaceted and dynamic as its subject. Edited by Liz Munsell and Greg Tate, this robust volume unravels the layers of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s artistic world and his role within a transformative cultural era. It positions Basquiat not just as an individual artist but as a pivotal figure in a constellation of intersecting movements reshaping art, music, and performance in 1970s and 1980s New York City.
The book is as much a cultural chronicle as it is an artistic study. It captures the chaotic, electrifying energy of a New York where the boundaries between “high” and “low” art dissolved, and the street became an unregulated gallery. The text delves into the social and cultural exchanges between the Uptown and Downtown scenes—worlds simultaneously divided and united by race, class, and artistic vision. These layers are vividly brought to life through essays that explore the societal forces shaping Basquiat’s era: the collapse of urban economies, the rise of hip-hop, and the cultural syncretism that defined the city’s creative spaces.
MARTHA COOPER LIBRARY: BOOK RECOMMENDATION
? | Title: Writing the Future: Basquiat and the Hip-Hop Generation ? | Publisher: MFA Publications, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (May 5, 2020) ? | Authors: Liz Munsell, Greg Tate (ed.) With contributions by J. Faith Almiron, Dakota DeVos, Hua Hsu, and Carlo McCormick ? | Language: English
Fourth of July weekend stretched into at least three days this year for many New Yorkers—some staying in town to catch the spectacular fireworks displays over the East River between Brooklyn and Manhattan, others escaping to Long Island, Upstate New York, or New Jersey. Chasing cooler air and a patch of green, they rent, borrow, and maybe even steal cars for the chance to go camping, canoeing, fire up a barbecue, and revisit Aunt Eloise’s legendary Ambrosia Salad—a chilled “salad” of mini marshmallows, canned mandarin oranges, crushed pineapple, coconut, and Cool Whip. Anyone want a hot dog?
Back in the city, stoop sales and block parties occupy the streets, murals are going up, and conversations drift between the Fourth of July Subway Series games with the Mets and Yankees, the newly approved rent-control rate hikes, and the eye-popping sums raised by the city’s elite to defeat the Socialist Democrat currently leading the mayoral race.
There’s also unease over the Big Beautiful Billsigned by the president on July 4th—an enormous, controversial budget that offers major tax breaks for the wealthy while cutting food and healthcare programs for the poor. It’s being called one of the most consequential—and divisive—pieces of legislation in decades. As you read over the text and see where the money is disappearing from and who it is going to, it may appear to you as a dark mirror version of a well-known children’s story, like a “Reverse Robinhood.” Yet, the debt will still increase…
Here’s a glimpse of the latest graffiti, street art, and murals captured in this week’s survey, including Aida Miro, Frankie Botz, Humble, Juliana Ruiz, Kong Savage, Lao Art, Lina Montoya, Minhafofa, MSK Crew, Musicoby, OSK, Paolo Tolention, Phetus88, Pixote, Qzar, Rambo, Sonni, Steve Sie, Tess, and Zoot.
BROOKLYN STREET ART LOVES YOU MORE EVERY DAY
