The Magnet Mafia Sticks to Street Art

The visitors' bureau, which is funded largely from the lodger's tax collected by the city ($12.5 million last year), spent a total of $98,351 marketing Denver Arts Week (using the unfortunate slogan "Be a Tourist in Your Own Town," as though art weren't a part of everyday life). Much of the money went to billboards promoting the Denver Art Museum's Louvre exhibit, Buck says; she estimates the project got another $344,412 from in-kind donations through such media sponsors as CBS4 and the Denver Newspaper Agency. "The goal was that we wouldn't expend tons of advertising dollars, that we would use grassroots and PR efforts, with minimal investment in the first year, knowing that this would be something that the arts community would benefit from," she adds.

Wallace thinks it's ironic that artists were slapped for participating in a city-subsidized project, but it doesn't surprise him. "The city in general has disconnects all over the place," he says. "They know that cultural tourism is a huge business. They want to fill up the hotels and tourism spots. But we know that to be a Denver artist don't mean shit unless Denver art means something."

And the Partnership is still confused. "I don't understand how this can be considered art," Pesek says. "Maybe the drawing on the magnets might be considered art, so put it in a forum where art can be appreciated — not up high on a light pole."

It's like throwing a pizza," Harrison says. "Then you feel it stick up top and it's really satisfying."

The Denver Skatepark is dark and empty — except for Matt and Harrison flipping magnets up to the underside of the metal gazebo. It's a place where they think the magnets have a chance to be seen before the "purple shirts" — the crews wearing purple polos who clean downtown — take them down and throw them away.

Matt and Harrison don't see themselves as rebels. They praise the Hickenlooper administration for cultivating the arts. They are as excited as anyone about the fancy new museums, because a more artistic Denver means a Denver with more street art. Now if only the city would recognize that street art is art. "It sucks when the city isn't being awesome about street art," Matt says. "By cultivating art in general, you are actually cultivating more people who could have a passion for street art. And with magnets, anybody can join in."

They say that Hickenlooper, who early on touted Richard Florida's Rise of the Creative Class and Denver's status as a creative city, should understand this: Street art, including top-notch graffiti, isn't an indicator of a lack of areas for people to showcase art, but rather an indicator of their abundance.

Denver has seen numerous street-art groups come and go. Various wheat-paste posters, stencils and sidewalk paintings can be spotted around town. A few years ago, the artists known as "Caul" would string together black wooden cutouts of birds and fling them onto telephone wires. More recently, a guerrilla crocheting crew called the Ladies Fancywork Society has been knitting yarn around light poles, bike racks and car antennas.

But it's the magnets that are really taking off. Yummies member Ray Young Chu, who painted magnets for the Austrian exchange and has done other guerrilla art campaigns promoting his work, feels that street art in Denver is misunderstood. "We are really trying to beautify the earth," he explains. "We try to put something up that makes people smile or think a little bit. We don't have the money or support to pay for huge billboards or advertisements. It's done because it's really fun to be out in the streets doing that and expressing yourself."

There's just so much to express — and sometimes the message is the medium.

"As far as concepts or ideas for things we have put out in the street, we've barely even started," Harrison says. "We've barely even touched the two-dimensional stuff. Just imagine if there were a row of shoes walking up the side of that building, the soles embedded with magnets. Or a crazy vine with a big-ass flower hanging off of it. What the fuck is that? Why is it there? There is just so much expression in that. It makes people think more."

And here's what Matt is thinking, as the snow falls down and the magnets go up: "I hate those dancing aliens." He's talking about Borofsky's "Dancers" sculpture in front of the Denver Performing Arts Complex. "It'd be cool to paint some big ol', old-school Nikes on them," he says.

"We should call up the Ladies Fancywork Society and see if they can knit some up," Harrison offers.

"They'd have to go on quickly so we could get out of there."

"That's why we'd use magnets, to attach them around the back."

"The aliens need some high-tops!"

But before they can really focus on "Dancers," Matt and Harrison will be displaying the Austrian magnets on March 1 at Matter Studio, then taking them to the streets, where everyone can enjoy them. They're already working on similar magnet swaps with artists in North Carolina, New York and London.

Get enough magnets out there, they say, and pretty soon all sorts of opposites will find themselves stuck together.