Designer Addictions in Every Pocket

Leon Reid IV. Photo by Luna Park.

Leon Reid IV. Photo by Luna Park.

How long has it been since you look at your phone? An hour? Half an hour? Half a minute? Well, you’re probably going to glance at it after seeing this poster, though Leon Reid IV would really rather that you didn’t.

He writes…

Are you sure you're in control of the tiny phone in your pocket? If so, try turning it off for 24 hours then ask yourself the same question. When you realize this is impossible, also realize that your device was designed to be this way.

As the ancient social divisions of race, gender, nationality, religion, sexual orientation and class are finally being redressed by culture at large, a new power dynamic is emerging. The internet has allowed wonderful possibilities to develop, bridging divides that once separated humankind. However, the dream of a connected world has shielded powerful social media corporations from public scrutiny as to their true motives of global power and control. I decided to participate in Art In Ad Places to bring awareness to the technological inequities as they exist now, and how it may play out in the future.

“The phones in our pockets are supercomputers designed to quantify every aspect of our lives. This once private information (data) is organized by computational power outside of our comprehension in order to move us around the world - like pawns on a chessboard- in service to maximize corporate profit.

“The corporate internet giants tout their services as a social good because they are ‘free.’ With this in mind I think about my enslaved ancestors in the American South who also had very little privacy and who were told to be grateful for the ‘free’ food and shelter they were provided.

“In order to make a phone call anywhere at any time, we've all paid much more than money. And if this is the social contract we've made with the corporate internet giants, then we need to understand every clause in this user agreement.”

We installed Leon’s work into one of the last payphones in the city, probably just a few weeks before it gets replaced by a LinkNYC tower with its multiple cameras for surveillance and two bright screens to serve you ads day and night.

As we re-enter the world after a year indoors and largely stuck on screens, we hope that Leon’s work is the jolt that gives some of us the impetus to live in the moment, away from our devices, at least for a moment.

A Subtle Subvertisement

Charlie Todd and Abe Lincoln, Jr. Photo by Luna Park.

Charlie Todd and Abe Lincoln, Jr. Photo by Luna Park.

Messing with out-of-home advertising (which, in a nutshell, is what we do here) takes many forms, but it is rooted in the art of détournement, today more commonly referred to as subvertising. That is the practice of subverting existing advertising by tweaking its message, appropriating the symbols of advertising to twist and critique it.

However, we actually don’t install a lot of détournement. Generally, if we are subverting anything, it’s subverting advertising infrastructure rather than the ads themselves, because we just take them down and replace them with artwork that is (usually) completely unrelated. And we like it that way. We just see these pay phones as venues for public art.

This week, we went back to our field’s roots with a very subtle subvertisement, courtesy of Charlie Todd and Abe Lincoln, Jr. Charlie and Abe’s piece is a near-match to existing ads for New York Powerball lottery, which appear in pay phones throughout the city. Look closely though, and their message is a bit different.

Charlie explains:

Outdoor advertising is a blight on our city streets. The decaying phone booth has long been the most egregious example of this visual pollution. These almost always out-of-order structures offer no benefit to our streets and exist only to display advertising. For Art in Ad Places, I chose to replace a Powerball advertisement both because the lottery is a regressive tax on the poor, and because I thought it would be fun to mess with the digital display. As the Powerball jackpot grows over time, the number will get closer and closer to displaying the actual odds of winning: 1 in 292 million. I'm happy to see that the pay phones are finally starting to come down in the city, though I'm not sure the LinkNYC replacements, with their even brighter ads and their sketchy surveillance technology, will be much better.

Yes, that’s right: the Loserball poster not only turns the iconic Powerball ad on its head, it actually incorporates the real, (somehow still functioning) LED signage that the real ads use to display up-to-date jackpot numbers!

So, a special thank you to Charlie and Abe for not only bringing Art in Ad Places back to its historical roots but also for pushing us out of our comfort zone to install a (relatively) high tech piece of art.

Yada Yada Yada

Poster Boy. Photo by Luna Park.

Poster Boy. Photo by Luna Park.

Often, when explaining the idea of Art in Ad Places to someone unfamiliar, their first question is: “Wait, are there still pay phones in New York City?” And we have to explain that yes, until recently there were thousands, most people just ignore them. They serve no useful purpose, and so they become mostly forgettable.

Continuing our theme of working with some of our heros in the ad takeover community, today we have a truly over-the-top intervention by the legendary Poster Boy. We think folks will notice this pay phone.

Rather than a traditional ad takeover or one of Poster Boy’s trademark examples of détournement, they completely reconfigured and redecorated this booth, giving it a new paint job and decorating swapping out plexiglass for custom paneling. It all screams: PAY ATTENTION, but with messages about love and loss that are much more human that the sort of PAY ATTENTION message that ads send us.

Here’s what Poster Boy has to say about the installation:

“There are a few layers to this piece; evolution of communication, symbology of tech fossils, rhyming colors with phonetics, clever puns, how phone booths were NY’s only public restroom, yada yada yada... however, this is first and foremost for my old friend Alanna Gabin who passed away earlier this year. She was one of the most selfless and genuine people I’ve ever met. I wish I texted her more often. I miss you Alanna... ‘Be here now. Never forget. Live, love, dream & fuck it, do it. Metal & Goth forever.’”

Poster Boy. Photo by Luna Park.

Poster Boy. Photo by Luna Park.

Some Ad Takeover Solidarity

Vermibus. Photo by Luna Park.

Vermibus. Photo by Luna Park.

Globally, there are probably about two dozen major groups dedicated to forms of anti-advertising activism, whether that’s removing ads or putting up art or fiercely lobbying local politicians. Add to that another one or two dozen artists who made ad takeovers a core part of their work. And while we mostly all operate separately, the truth is: a lot of us know each other, we’re friends.

Over the last five years, we’ve gotten assistance and advice from many folks in that global anti-advertising activism network. However, with one or two exceptions, we haven’t done much public collaboration with our counterparts and advisors. As we move towards closing the book on Art in Ad Places (as payphones across New York City are fewer and fewer), we thought it would be a nice moment to acknowledge a few of those inspirations/friends/collaborators/advisors more publicly. How? The only way we know how: Installing their work.

And so today we have Vermibus, whose work distorting fashion advertisements is a reminder that the aesthetics advertising can be turned against the industry. Without adding any text or humor like many examples of détournement, Vermibus still manages to distort and rework high fashion ads into stark self-critiques. Additionally, Vermibus founded the fantastic NO-AD Day project, where ads are simply removed and our eyeballs are given a bit of a reprieve from advertising’s onslaught.

Rather than a typical artist statement, Vermibus referred us to a poem: Ithaka by C.P. Cavafy. It starts:

As you set out for Ithaka

hope your road is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

The whole piece is well worth reading. Though it certainly wasn’t written as such, it is as good a reflection as any that we’ve read on the ups and downs of activism.

Reflecting the World as It Is

I Can't Breathe Cop by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.

I Can't Breathe Cop by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.

Often, we install artworks that express some hope for the future or some anger about the present… Today is slightly different. We decided to work with Mel D. Cole because he is one a photojournalist capturing the world as it is, in all of its complexities.

In the last year, Mel has shifted from primarily photographing NYC nightlife and hip hop superstars to being one of the foremost documentarians of the Black Lives Matter uprisings and protests across the country. He’s also photographed Trump rallies (and even Trump himself), including the insurrection at the Capitol Building.

Spider-Man by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.

Spider-Man by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.

Mel told us, “I participated in Art in Ad Places because I really think what you all are doing is really amazing and because I want more people outside of my own network to see the powerful work I have been capturing over the last year. And....who wouldn't want their work to be publicly seen on a phone booth in the streets of NYC! I picked these three photos because they speak directly to what's going on right now in the world! I hope that these images inspire, bring hope, motivate, and strike up conversations.”

Fist by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.

Fist by Mel D. Cole. Photo by Luna Park.