Twenty Questions with Barry McGee

Photo by Cheryl Dunn

San Francisco is a city that has always defied genres and labels. From its geographic distinction to its cultural diversity, it has been a city that refused to fit into any one category. It has historically represented and embraced the counter culture that the rest of the world oogled at…and envied.

From this creative cosmic soup emerged Barry McGee (a.k.a. Twist). Starting his art career in the mid-’80s on the streets of San Francisco, Barry quickly gained his street credibility for his unique style and sensibility. At a time when most graffiti artists were focusing on their tags, Barry had moved on to defining his characters in his work—those folks he saw on the streets every day in the city. His illustration style and “imperfect” technique was what set Barry apart from the others.

Today, Barry has taken his view of urban life across the globe. From San Paulo to San Jose, from Melbourne to Minneapolis, his art has blessed the walls of galleries and buildings alike. Barry’s work has been likened to everyone from Dr. Seuss to Keith Haring. It’s no wonder he refused to show his work in galleries for the longest time. Who needs comparisons like that?

Regardless of the industry’s desire to brand Barry McGee as a graffiti artist or urban muralist, he remains a San Francisco original. Always “in” the scene, but never “of” it.
Respect.

Theme: Where did you grow up?
Barry McGee: I grew up in South San Francisco, the Industrial City.

How did that city influence you as a creative person?
I’m not so sure it did. I don’t feel particularly any more creative than you, your neighbor, or the man passed out on the street. I think friends and teachers may have a bit of influence, but when South San Francisco comes to mind, I go blank. Good bmx there in the late ’70s and early ’80s before the houses filled in.

Is your family creative? Did you grow up doing more creative projects vs. watching television or playing sports?
Uh, sure...they are creative. Is having eight half-stripped cars on your lawn and driveway creative? My father was a hot-rodder at heart and passed this unfortunate torch to me and my brother Mike. Mike still restores ’60s muscle cars and I have narrowed my collection to three cars, four bicycles, and fifteen surfboards, all garbage.

There seems to be a common thread in your work—destruction. Can you talk about why destruction or even chaos inspires you and your artwork?
I believe to a certain degree it’s the only thing left that shakes the public from its daily ritual of working and consuming. It is a fabulous joy to work on something so hard only to see it destroyed in a blink of an eye.

Do you feel like labeling artists or movements confines people creatively?
Yes. That is what critics and historians do. Artists get to pee on everything and anything and scream and shout when they get labeled as a trend. It is a performance art of sorts.

What forms of noise or sounds do you feel would be created if your artwork could talk?
A car upside-down on fire with the car alarm still yelping.

Does music at all influence the work you do? What have you been listening to?
I have been listening to pirate cat radio. It’s fun. When the pirate radio stations start competing, our world will surely be a better place.

I believe [destruction] it’s the only thing left that shakes the public from its daily ritual of working and consuming.

Do you feel over-stimulated as a person living in a city? What sorts of visual stimuli move you?
Overstimulated and overwhelmed. Do you feel this way too? Yeah, I do but not as much as I did living in New York.

If so, does that at all make it any harder as a painter/craftsman to create?
I’m not sure. I think being consumed in a natural setting (whatever that is) would seem like a nice place to create art, but I’m afraid I would fall asleep or get poison oak.

You seem to travel a lot to show. Which country do you prefer to visit?
Anywhere other than the usual “art hubs.” I’m trying to get to Croatia in December for a “wall drawing” exhibition.

I’ve followed your work for several years and really loved how it’s evolved. You’re on to some new stuff that I saw at Yerba Buena. Can you explain some of the inspiration/ideas behind the geometric patterns at the “Beautiful Losers” show?
Those are from some piano sheet-music that I found while in a dumpster. It’s weird, I’ve become completely obsessed with them. Well, this month at least.

Does having a child inspire your work?
Yes, of course. Children cut through all the false pretenses we protect ourselves with.

How do you feel is the general state of the art world? You seem to have been embraced by it but still tread the waters like a person who doesn’t really care about it.
The art world bores me to tears. I cannot feel truly connected to it until all my hooligan friends are running the system or actively destroying it. Soon.

What do you think of buffing [the forcible removal of graffiti]? Do you feel like it is a non-intentional style of art? I feel like you have been embracing it in some of your murals as long as I’ve known you.
Buffing is so ’90s. They need to raise the bar. I mean we [graffiti enthusiasts] did our part by developing the acid-etch tags on glass windows nationwide in retaliation to buffing.

Do you feel like graffiti has anything to do with control? Do you feel like it’s something you love and respect because it’s limitless or not confined?
Graffiti is fun. It became most exciting when I stopped.

Do you write much anymore in SF?
Never. I love San Francisco.

If you could change one thing about your environment, what would that be?
Oh gawd...more public restrooms.

If you could change one thing about the world, what would that be?
Oh no...not that question. Um...drinking water from streams.