Saturday, May 26, 2012

2nd part, Street Art and Politics: Guy Fawkes Mask

Please see the last Post. This is part Two.


Guy Fawkes mask phenomenon.

For those out there as ignorant as me about this mask, it has been adopted by the occupation movement in their protests against monied interests. While I am sympathetic with many of the issues of the occupation movement, I think this mask is totally creepy.
In its origins, it is a symbol of anarchism. I can´t imagine anyone but a subset of young men enjoying anarchy, and then only for about a week. The contradictions associated with the mask are in perfect accord with the absurdity of anarchy.
The Guy Fawkes mask comes from a series of comic books, made into a graphic novel, called “V for Vendetta”, by Alan Moore, illustrated by David Lloyd.
It was popularized by a movie of the same name. The main character, V, wears this mask and promotes anarchism. Alan Moore uses Guy Fawkes as his symbol of liberation from tyranny because, in 1605, Fawkes attempted to blow up the British Parliament. He was betrayed and arrested while guarding the explosives in the basement.

Here is a hapless Guy Fawkes guarding the explosives in the basement of Parliment. It´s by George Cruikshank, from an 1840 novel.

After a lot of torture, they were going to hang him, but he managed to jump off the high scaffold for a speedier death.

But far from being an enemy of authoritative regimes, Fawkes, who was born a British Protestant and converted to Catholicism, was actually working for the Pope and Phillip the 2nd of Spain. He was hoping to bring a Catholic monarch to the throne, and was a proponent of the Spanish Inquisition, one of the greatest instruments of tyranny ever.
Another irony associated with this mask is that it is usually bought through Amazon .com, which now counts it as a major selling item, I have read (not verified, let me know if you know) that the Time Warner corporation has the copyright to it. So every sale of the mask enriches these two enormous corporations.
I would be interested in hearing from you and knowing your opinion of street art, graffiti and Guy Fawkes masks. Leave a comment here, or send me an email: margotkimball@gmail.com

Street Art and Politics

This is a collection of some of my favorite unauthorized street art.   In a way it is all political, in that these "works" are public statements that disregard laws and customs. Actually, as common as graffiti has become in Madrid, perhaps it no longer does disregard customs. 

Not wanting to mislead you, I will begin by saying that most of the graffiti here is ugly, obnoxious and of no discernible aesthetic, intellectual or moral value.


Where is that military police when you need them?
This  graffiti has definately not improved the environment for this elder. Who can blame her if she thinks bringing back the dictatorship might not be a bad idea.

But, for me, the following images have been a welcomed addition to the urban landscape.
This quirky little character seems to be peeing on the wall. A custom which, I am sorry to say, is more  common here than graffiti!

The following three images are from a long mural in an obscure run-down, drab little park. It seemed to me the artist was saying that even this modest little spot deserved some creative attention and brightening up.


Just by virtue of spending a lot of time and effort on an activity with no monetary remuneration, the street artist is making a kind of political protest against our producer-consumer, monetary based culture.
In an even more obscure corner in need of brightening up, the few people who walk by get quite a visual surprise:




A Garden in the Abandonment

 This next one, which I came across a block from my apartment, is more overtly political.
 It is a beautiful figure and beautifully executed, but it is on the side of a dumpster, perhaps making oblique reference to the status of so many African countries in the priorities of world politics and economies.








I am guessing that this one to the right is making a similar allusion to populations that have run out of resources and are running out of time as well.




This clock image appeared in numerous places around the city last fall, shortly before Spain´s national elections.

It was clear that the Socialists were about to be kicked out and that the Conservative PPO party would be taking over. The implication with the clock is that the country was, in a sense, about to return to 1936 when Franco´s Fascist dictatorship took over.







There´s no ambiguity in this painting we came across in San Sebastion last December.
 The signs read:
Consume More, Live Less,
Fight for your future
An eviction, another occupation





The four following images are from a mural in Puerta del Sol. As Spain´s metaphorical center, geographically and politically, it was where the first and longest Occupation took place last year, from May 15th to August 10th. After being pretty relaxed about it, the police eventually kicked the occupiers out to ready the city for a visit from the Pope. This collaborative mural is what little remained when we returned to Madrid at the end of August.

Detail from the above mural


Notice the Guy Fawkes mask in the mural






This stenciled graffiti, also with a Guy Fawkes mask, turned up all around Madrid in early May. It was an enigmatic message for people to meet in Puerta del Sol on the 12th to reenact the occupation that had occured on the 15th of the previous year. The hope was to reoccupy the plaza, but the less tolerant conservative PPO party that is now in power made sure the protesters were out by 5 am.





For more on the Guy Fawkes mask, see my next post

 If  you would like to make a comment, please post it here, or send me an email at at: margotkimball@gmail.com







Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Our UnAmerican Minivan


Guest Post by Matt

We bought a minivan here in Spain that’s thoroughly un-American. “How is that possible?” you say. Aren’t minivans as American as apple pie? Not this one. Here are six reasons any red-blooded American would shun our van:

1)      It’s French

It’s been over twenty years since French cars were sold in the US. Most who remember them don’t do so fondly. Even FIAT (“Fix It Again Tony”) has recently ventured back into the US market, but not the French. Add in the “Freedom Fries” debacle, and the fact that France just elected a Socialist (gasp!) to lead the country, and French cars are non-starters (pun intended) in the US.


2)      It’s built in Spain

Most Americans don’t even realize that Spaniards manufacture cars at all. When I mention that ours was built in Vigo, Spain, they’re aghast that I would buy a vehicle made in a country better known for jobs for life, work days that end at 3 PM, all night parties and well-timed strikes. It doesn’t matter when I tell them that our car has a great reputation for quality – they can only remember Spain as the place where they drank too many stiff drinks on the beach.


3)      It has a silly name

Our van is a Citroen C4 “Grand Picasso.” Hmm… a minivan named after the father of Cubism? Of course, late in life Pablo was willing to add his signature to most anything for a few francs, but even he must be rolling in his grave at this. How did Citroen ever come up with this goofy name? I can only speculate that like this car, Picasso was a French phenomenon that actually originated in Spain. And what about the “Grand” part? Well, the “Grand Picasso” is the seven-passenger version; the 5-passenger is just the “Picasso.” But I hope most people still think of Guernica when they hear the term “Grand Picasso.”


4)      The engine is tiny

Our minivan in the US had a six cylinder, 3.5 liter, 265 horsepower gasoline engine. Our Citroen has a 1.6 liter, 110 horsepower diesel – less than half the size and power. When I first read the stats, I pictured our family having to get out and push every time we encountered a hill.


5)      It has a manual transmission

You can’t buy a minivan with a manual transmission in the US, because no soccer mom would want to drive it. Of course, kids don’t play soccer in France and Spain; they play football.


6)      It’s cramped

Our Citroen seats seven people – as long as they’re all coxswains, jockeys or ballerinas. It’s narrower than many compact cars in the US.



7)      There are no cup holders

Our US minivan had more cup holders than seats. American manufacturers compete over which can offer the most and the biggest. Some even add refrigerated compartments. The most our “Grand Picasso” offers are a couple of useless round indentations on the floor in between the front seats. How can this be? Shockingly, Europeans do not eat in their cars!


In spite of all this, I love our “Grand Picasso.” Here’s why:

1)      It’s a room with a view

Our van has a huge windshield that brings the beautiful European outdoors right into the cabin. From the front seats, you can look almost straight up into the sky. The kids in the back may be cramped, but the driver gets an immense sense of spaciousness.

2)      It gets great gas mileage

I laugh when I hear of US protests over $4/gallon gas.  It’s double that in Europe. Our previous minivan got 20 miles per gallon. US car reviewers considered that rather thrifty, Spaniards would consider that horrifyingly gluttonous. Our Citroen gets 45 miles per gallon, making it cheaper to run, even with the gas price difference.



We didn’t even give up that much utility for this great efficiency. Our van certainly isn’t a rocket, but over time, we’ve come to consider our diesel to be “the little engine that could.” We’ve been fully loaded cruising down the highway at 75 MPH with luggage on the roof, and the Citroen’s handled the hills with aplomb. After owning one, I’ve concluded that modern diesels are the most overlooked technology in the US automotive industry.

3)      It’s not too wide

Within minutes, a US minivan would wedge itself between the walls of ancient European villages, whose streets can be just over two meters across. Our Citroen cleverly expands upwards and lengthwise, keeping the width under control. We appreciate it every time we pull into a claustrophobic Spanish parking garage, with our mirrors folded to give us every inch of space.



4)      It has some cool technology

Americans might assume that fashionable France would be free of geeks, but they’d be mistaken. French companies – and especially Citroen – have always been obsessed with technology. Decades ago, most Citroen cars had “hydropneumatic” suspensions that made the body of the car “float” over the road. The driver could raise the suspension to clear obstacles, or lower it for speed. Citroen was early in using aerodynamics, electronics, hydraulics – anything that was new and cool. It resulted in some pretty quirky designs that only a geek like me could love.


Nowadays, Citroen seems to have outgrown their Jules Verne tehnology-worship, entering a new “Zen” technology phase. I think even Steve Jobs would approve of the dashboard display in our van, which always seems to tell me exactly what I want to know when I want to know it.



Time will tell whether our van avoids the other pitfall of some French technology – unreliability. I remember visiting a gleaming new corporate office near Nice in the 1980’s. It had Star Trek-like doors that would open automatically as you approached if you were authorized, but would lock if you were not. They were pretty cool, except that they kept randomly locking people in different parts of the building! It was a nightmare for everyone. So far, our “Grand Picasso” has run like a Swiss … err… French watch.


Friday, May 4, 2012

A Labor Day Vacation


In Los Urrutias, A modest replica of the Alhambras´s famous fountian in the Lion Courtyard
We are on vacation. Again! There seem to be so many of them in Spain. This one is what they call here a Puente, or Bridge. If a commemorative day falls in the middle of the week, rather than moving it to the weekend or a Monday like a highly efficient state with their eyes on the GDP, Spain will leave it hanging out there in the middle of the week and connect it to the weekend with more vacation days. Hence the bridge, or puente.
This Puente has been in celebration of May Day, or International Workers´ Day. I was surprised to find out that the US, one of the few industrialized countries that does not recognize International Worker´s Day, is its origin.  On May 4th, 1886, in Chicago, during a rally in demand of the 8 hour workday, policemen and protesters alike were killed by a bomb, and then more by police gunfire.

May 1st soon became a rallying cry for labor parties in the US and Europe. Not wanting to reinforce our labor party´s ties with Europe and Russia´s (and not create any pesky Bridge holidays!) Congress declared Labor Day to be the first Monday in September.  Meanwhile, International Labor Day has become a national holiday in 80 countries.
So, good bosses that we are, Matt and I made this a vacation of rest for the girls, and we did not take them on any laborious tours of museums, cathedrals or monasteries. They did gaze down at a ruins of a Roman amphitheater in Cartegena, but they did not seem overly fatigued by this.



We exchanged our apartment with a family that owns a beach house in southern Spain, on the Mediteranean shore, near the city of Cartegena. This is a watercolor I made for them of the view from the window.


And here is Iris walking down the beach on her way to the house.

Most of the beach front in Spain are well tamed and developed.


 But we were fortunate in being near this relatively untouched one.

Claire studying for the SATs, and Adele reading "The Secret Life of Bees"

Matt hiked to the top of the hill behind the beach and took these photos of the view from either side.


We were fascinated by the vast tracts of land that have plastic covering the rows of plants. We thought at first that the fields had been flooded.^


It looked like the water came right up to the road and was surrounding buildings. But they are actually just more plastic floods.


Among the best features of Cartegena are the Roman ruins (as seen above), as well as a great view of the Mediteranean (below).


And some awesome street art



The one below was so extensive, I thought it must have been commissioned by the city. But that was not clear. It is really beautiful and my photos do not do it justice. If you are interested, take a look at the following website:  http://krasergallery.blogspot.com.es/#!/p/web.html



We like to try out what few vegetarian restaurants we can find in Spain. This one in Cartegena was very nice. I was especially charmed with the menus that looked like sketch books, and had notes from previous patrons. I made a drawing on one.



If you are ever so fortunate to be in this area, and you are looking for a good seafood restaurant with wonderful paella and a fabulous view of the sea, go to the Miramar Restaurante in
Cabo los Palos.




That´s it for our nonlaborious beach vacation. Here is hoping that Spain finds away to improve their GDP and emerge from their recession, while maintaining their Puentes (Bridges)!

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