Most news today does not simply arrive. An interested party has something it wants the public to believe; a professional Public Relations intermediary finds the language, the experts, the images, perhaps even the reassuring citizens to make the case; and eventually the manufactured message arrives in newspapers, social feeds, legislation, or ordinary conversation looking considerably more independent than it actually is. It is so common today that Donald Trump put the principle rather neatly while discussing the increasingly unpopular expansion of data centers earlier this year: “They need some PR help.”
A new mural by LAPIZ in Freiburg-Wiehre, Germany, brings to mind Toxic Sludge Is Good for You: Lies, Damn Lies, and the Public Relations Industry, John Stauber and Sheldon Rampton’s wonderfully titled 1995 dissection of the machinery of public persuasion. The title referred to the campaign to rename municipal sewage sludge “biosolids” and promote its use as agricultural fertilizer—an almost perfect illustration of their premise. Change the vocabulary, recruit reassuring authorities, redirect the frame, and something disagreeable can emerge at the other end looking wholesome, responsible, perhaps even good for you.
LAPIZ takes a cheerful route into something far less cheerful with “Toxic Colours Are Beautiful,” painted at Dreikönigsstraße 51 in Freiburg-Wiehre. A young girl dances beneath a bright cascade of color, but follow the drips upward and the source is revealed: two children working in a vividly colored, presumably toxic river. The mural turns an attractive surface into a comment on child labor, industrial dyeing, and the hidden conditions behind the products we enjoy.
LAPIZ first painted an earlier version of Toxic Colours years ago in Düsseldorf and had wanted to revisit it at a larger scale. Here, the building’s projecting bay window neatly separates the carefree scene below from the harsher reality above. The effect is simple and pointed: the rainbow is beautiful, but someone upstream is paying for it.
Lapiz’s new mural was painted recently at the former NSA/British spy station Teufelsberg, Berlin. The site is a holy land for graffiti writers, street artists, and all manner of creative crews and tourists. And those little gold bits that you see in the mural? The artist tells us that parts of the mural were gold-plated wth a composite.
This latest intervention by Lapiz, painted inside the crumbling shell of an abandoned electrical substation near Chemnitz, lands somewhere between bitter social observation and deadpan advertising parody. Painted amid the remains of East Germany’s industrial skeletons — relics of a promised workers’ utopia that gave way to a turbocharged free-market reality after reunification — Lapiz gives us a satiric scene only slightly exaggerated from those now familiar across much of Europe: elderly citizens rummaging through trash for returnable bottles and cans to supplement pensions that no longer cover the cost of survival.
Germany may still project the image of continental stability and economic muscle, but beneath the polished surfaces of luxury storefronts and political speeches, some say that the sight of pensioners digging through public bins has become common enough to barely interrupt pedestrian traffic anymore.
Lapiz, whose stencil-based practice often merges political critique with the cold visual language of advertising and institutional graphics, frames the scene with a parody of luxury-brand patterning that unmistakably echoes the logo-crazed theater of designer fashion houses. The symbols woven into the repeated motif are not, however, monograms celebrating wealth and exclusivity but references to the bureaucratic architecture of poverty: job centers, food assistance, recycling systems, and welfare programs.
Here the performance of conspicuous consumption collides head-on with the fear of not meeting your family’s basic needs; the old scavenger carrying gold-plated deposit bottles becomes a darkly elegant contradiction. Even the title, “Retirement (is about exploring your wide open future),” is lifted from a corporate retirement campaign for an automotive executive. It twists the knife with the polished optimism of advertising campaigns and Davos-style prognostication.
As with other works by LAPIZ, the location matters. Painted during the small but steadily growing festival at Kulturnetzwerk Etzdorf, inside a former GDR-era energy substation in rural Saxony, the work occupies a landscape where the promises of competing economic systems have both aged poorly in different ways. The abandoned industrial structures surrounding the mural are not merely atmospheric ruins for photographers and festivalgoers; they are physical reminders of labor histories, collapsed ideologies, privatization, migration, and widening economic precarity.
Hamburg-based street artist Lapiz has brought his sharp wit and political edge to Berlin with a new stencil mural for the Urban Canvas Parkhaus Wedding project, curated by Emily Strange and Liebe zur Kunst. Painted on the concrete wall of a parking garage, the piece shows a sleek modern car towing a rickety wooden cart packed with what appear as indigenous figures, soldiers, riot police, an endangered pink flamingo. It’s a wry take on what Lapiz sees as the illusion of our progress: technology moves forward, but systemic problems like inequality, militarism, and overconsumption keep tagging along.
The artist tells us that the work is partly inspired by an exhibition at the former ethnology museum in Hamburg about the colonial-era extraction of saltpeter in South America. This exploitative practice echoes today’s lithium mining in the name of “green” technology. Lapiz sees this pattern repeating: local environments destroyed, communities displaced, all so consumers in the Global North can feel good and ‘green’ about their electric cars.
Lapiz, who started painting on the streets of Dunedin, New Zealand, has lived and worked in Africa and Argentina. He is known for his colorful, intelligent stencils with a political bite. In an email, he wrote: “I strongly believe that now is the time to raise our voices, now is the time for political action and political art.” With this latest work in Berlin’s Wedding district, he delivers that message clearly—satirical, visual, and timely.
Lapiz, known for his poignant social commentary through street art, has once again made his mark with Rainbow Nation, a striking new mural at the Secret City Festival in Paderborn, Germany. This time, he tackles the urgent issues of division, intolerance, and the rising tide of far-right ideology sweeping across Europe. In response, Lapiz turns to the colors of the LGBT rainbow flag to create a mural that speaks of unity, diversity, and democracy.
The piece is built around the portraits of four German citizens, each chosen for their significant contributions to society. Using his signature halftone stencil technique, Lapiz has masterfully woven their faces into fingerprints—a clever metaphor for individuality and the unique, positive impact these figures have on the world. The mural celebrates the idea that no matter where we come from, what we believe, or who we love, our human rights are the same.
Leeroy Matata, a former wheelchair basketball player turned influencer, whose powerful presence in social media challenges perceptions of ability and inclusion.
Margot Friedländer, a Holocaust survivor and public advocate, a living testament to resilience and a voice for remembrance in these troubling times.
Tessa Ganserer, one of the first trans women in the German parliament, a symbol of progress and the ongoing fight for gender equality.
Mai Thy Nguyen-Kim, a chemist and science journalist, who has become a trusted voice in Germany, promoting scientific literacy and combating misinformation.
The mural’s message of equality and solidarity comes at a critical moment as Lapiz calls attention to the political shifts threatening democracy in Germany and beyond. Painted in the heart of Paderborn, this vibrant artwork stands as a reminder that resistance can be bright and cheerful – and that art has the power to inspire and galvanize change.
Lapiz’s journey, from the streets of Dunedin to the walls of Hamburg and Buenos Aires, is meant as a testament to his belief that art should reflect our times and challenge the status quo. Rainbow Nation is a bold statement, not just for the Secret City Festival but for anyone who believes in the power of unity and the strength of diversity.
Lapiz is the Hamburg-based street artist whose practice involves handmade stencils to convey his message to the public. He places them in many cities around Germany and internationally and he says he has finally found a way to convey something that has been on his mind since China hosted the Winter Olympics Games in 2022. He says he has a preoccupation with being a part of a team in collaboration with other teams where something big and vital is created. This has brought him to expand on a popular sports slogan in Germany: “Dabei sein ist alles,” or “it is more important to take part in something big than anything else.”
For his participation in this year’s edition of Ibug 2023 in Leipzig, Germany, he decided to use the slogan as the genesis for his contribution by way of illustrating with his stencils the meaning of the slogan.
“Coincidentally, Leipzig is very fitting, as the world’s most important chip company, Taiwan’s TSMC, is building a factory in Dresden (about an hour’s drive from Leipzig). It is heavily supported by the state of Germany (contributing up to 5 billion Euros). This is also interesting as Germany, just like the majority of the world, still does not recognize Taiwan as an independent state but plays into China’s interpretation of it being a separatist province,” says Lapiz.
“The central motif is China’s supreme leader Xi Jinping holding shackles; attached to his left are Tibet, the Uighurs, and most recently, Hong Kong. To his right, a shackle lies on the floor, waiting to catch the next “member”: Taiwan, which is depicted in the person of Taiwan’s President Tsai Ing-wen.”
Lapiz says that he painted a second piece for the festival called “Liberté” (Freedom). According to the artist, freedom is one of the most pressing social and humanitarian issues currently occupying people’s minds on the world stage. He previously painted the female figure holding a brush with the word Liberté in Paris in 2017 in response to the attack on the Bataclan Theater, and in support of the victims and the survivors. So Liberté appears as a recurring theme for the street artist.
“More than a year ago, Russia invaded Ukraine, which since then has fought for its freedom. For months, the people of Iran have been fighting in a new revolution for the rights and lives of Iranian women. Everywhere in the world, there is still much to do to get equal rights for all genders.” Lapiz
“Happy kids are playing the game, but something is off, the chairs have been replaced by life vests and the EU is playing the music.”
Street artist LAPIZ says his darkly themed new stencil piece is based on the game ‘musical chairs’ and is pointing directly to the number of refugees who drown in the Mediterranean Sea. So many die so frequently that people in Europe have grown tired from the news, he says. And that’s why he’s depicted this ‘game’ of children playing with life vests.
“It is supposed to look that way because it became normal that people are drowning in the Mediterranean which is why we do not hear anything about it anymore,” he says.
Part of Urban Nation museum’s UNartig Festival, where artworks are intended to catalyze discussion, the new work is entitled “Reise nach Lesbos” (Dancing Chairs of Lesbos). The reference to Lesbos in this case of course, is to the large number of refugees living there in camps, many of whom would like to move to Europe.
“About 50% of people fleeing via the Mediterranean are underage,” LAPIZ tells us. That fact alone is enough to confirm that this new work is not childs’ play.
Painted in the stairway of Kunstlabor in Munich for their second Urban Art show, street artist and immunologist Lapiz brought his strong opinions and shares them with you here.
There is no Planet B
A searing damnation of the 1st world consumer mentality, Lapiz critiques the guy in this scene, finding him guilty of oblivious attitudes and self-serving behaviors.
“A man is sitting in a comfortable lounge chair escaping into the digital world. Maybe, he watches a documentary about the “green lung” – the untouched part of the Amazon rainforest on Netflix. As he is sitting there enjoying himself he does not pay any attention to his surroundings. The almond milk in his feel-good tote bag might protect dairy cows but their plantations demand so much water that vast areas are running dry. He doesn’t pay attention to the rose that is cultivated cheap in Africa and flown to Europe for Valentine’s Day (he is a romantic after all), nor the energy used to order his VR glasses or streaming. Instead of enjoying nature as it is, a parallel, untouched universe is consumed.”
Still Love and Wallporn For his second installation Lapiz says he wanted to question how the female body and sexuality are viewed in public.
“Commonly, the female body is sexualized in advertisements, media, pornography, or prostitution while female sexuality and normal bodily functions are deemed private or even taboo (period shaming, pinky gloves). Disguised as fancy wallpaper and hiding in plain sight are all sorts of sex toys: dildos, vibrators, etc. The flowers of the still life (“Still Love”) look a bit off as they show soft tampons, which are also often used by prostitutes to keep on working. My motive was to try and take these seemingly private things that are supposed to happen behind closed doors and show them as what they are – normal and beautiful.”
Also included in the show were Sebastian Bühler, Miriam Ganser, Patricija Gilyte, Julia Klemm, Eva Krusche, Lando, Lapiz, Christine Liebich, Loomit, Timur Lukas, Sophia Mainka, Daniel Man, Nina Annabelle Märkl, Bernhard McQueen, Marlene Meier, Ray Moore, Monika Morito, Matthias Mross, Ena Oppenheimer, Esther Irina Pschibul, Cornelia Rapp, Felix Rodewaldt, Sophie Schmidt, Magdalena Waller, Matt Wiegele, Zrok, and Ian Zak. Learn more about KunstLabor HERE.
Observing the events of the last weeks and today on the world stage, we are reminded of this street art piece created by artist Lapiz in Lemwerder, Germany in 2018.
“I painted it during the time that the FIFA WorldCup took place in Russia,” the artist tells us, “and it was intended to highlight Putin’s narcissism and homophobia.” You can see the reference to homophobia in the artist choice of multiple colors that are in the LGBTQ pride flag.
“This is not a piece about gloating but about the anger I feel,” says street artist Lapiz about his newest public stencils renders beautifully the jarring facts of hospital workers right now in overwhelmed hospitals everywhere.
“I’ve been shocked to see the nurses wearing so much protective gear that one can not see their faces, nothing really that identifies them as caring,” he remarks on the healthcare professionals who cover their faces, then feel compelled to tape a photo of them on the outside of their uniform to reassure patients that there is a warm smiling person under all those layers.
For all you know, it could be Santa under there this Christmas.
For another consecutive holiday season, many of us, like those in Germany, are finding that they live in a hotspot for infections again. And some have become patients.
“But this is how intensive care units now look like since they are overrun by infected antivaxxers,” he says. “This is not a painting of schadenfreude but of anger. It shows the Christmas that many of these disbelievers are facing for a final time.” Oof! There are many complex feelings rolled into this one obviously.
Hamburg-based Lapiz is lamenting the current state of vaccines and Covid-19 limitations on the average German’s ability to travel. As spring is on the cusp, and Easter holidays are only a couple weeks from now, he admits to suffering from “Reisefieber”, or travel fever.
A global citizen, Lapiz also highlights the hypocrisy of so-called “western” developed economies worrying about taking vacations while other countries haven’t even seen the vaccine.
Lapiz “Reisefieber”. Hamburg, Germany. (photo courtesy of the artist)
“Rich countries, which count for ~ 14 % of the world’s population, have bought 54 % of the global available vaccine doses while many countries like Nigeria, with a population of 200 Million, do not get any,” he says. “In January this year, 25 people in all of Africa had been vaccinated compared to 39 million in rich countries. While we are getting back to normal life including travel to exotic locations, these countries will not get any glimpse of it in the years to come.”
As ever Lapiz is using his street art to critique gently his society, and possibly himself. This new intervention takes a plaintive look at a “typical” traveler transfixed with a trifle of wanderlust.
What the hell just happened? Has it been a year? Or has it been 10 years? Or just one long nightmare/daymare? Or has it been 10 years? Did we already ask that?
In March 2020 we awoke to a world that was transforming before all of our eyes, yet we felt so cut-off from it and each other. The first days seem so long ago as we mark the first anniversary of the pandemic. Still, the initial shock of those days resonates in our chests so strongly that we confidently talk about a collective global trauma that has indelibly marked a generation.
From Stockholm to Mexico City to Barcelona to Bethlehem to New York to LA, BSA brought you street art that was responding with fear, derision, critique, hope, and humor to the never-static, always evolving barrage of Covid news. Stuck inside and afraid to expose ourselves to each other, we New Yorkers became accustomed to experiencing the outdoors only through our windows, connecting with neighbors we’ve never met who were also banging pots and pans or clapping and waving and yelling.
We listened to ambulances screaming past our windows every half hour or so during those first weeks, imagining the torn families, the terrified fellow New Yorkers now being rushed to the hospital and separated from their loved ones without a goodbye, gasping for air. We wondered if we would be next.
When we did go to the streets, they were empty – or nearly. In New York this was unheard of. In this bustling, noisy metropolis, we experienced a daily disconcerting quiet. That is, until the killing of George Floyd by cops finally pushed the anger/anxiety into the streets all summer.
The deadly hotspot of New York quelled, but the fires of Covid spread west, grabbing communities who thought they would avoid impact. At the same time, local, state, and national leaders fumbled and argued or famously callously ignored the desperation of citizens, occasionally admirably filling the shoes they were elected to occupy, often misstepping through no fault of their own.
We have no particular wisdom to offer you today beyond the obvious; this pandemic laid bare inequity, social and racial and class fault-lines, the shredded social net, the effect of institutional negligence, the ravages of 40 years of corporate privatization, and the power of community rising to the occasion to be in service to one another in ways that made us all more than proud.
Here are some of our favorite Covid-themed street art pieces from over the last year, a mere sampling of the artistic responses. Interspersed we paste screenshots of the daily events (via Wikipedia) in 2020 that shaped our lives, and our society.
We mourn the losses of family and friends and the broken hearts and minds in all of our communities. And we still believe in the power of art to heal and the power of love to balance our asymmetries.
As NYC went on complete lock-down and New Yorkers were ordered to remain in their homes in complete isolation the city’s residents organically joined together in a collective 7:00 pm ritual in support to the first responders. To the nurses, doctors, paramedics, trash collectors, public transportation, police, fire fighters, supermarkets workers etc…with their services and sacrifices we, the residents of this megalopolis were able to keep out hopes for brighter days to come.
Video of four former presidents urging people to “roll up your sleeve and do your part” and get the vaccine.
For decades, graffiti, street art, and contemporary art have spoken with one another, exchanging ideas, aesthetics, techniques, and attitudes along …Read More »
Join the BSA Newsletter!
Subscribe to our newsletter for occasional updates, special announcements, and exclusive content.
BROOKLYN STREET ART LOVES YOU MORE EVERY DAY
