Crowd Control

the visceral pleasures of mass formulation
a street-art testimonial from Cecil B. Demure

There's something about a good crowd. They tend to grow; a few people becomes a bunch, and then so on. Audiences, festivals, marches, riots... in proper conditions a critical mass can share a singular reaction, emotion, or will. Even if for just an explosive moment; alchemy occurs when the "me" becomes "we".

Such are the moments of swirling personage that make up the Media Speakeasy Video Montage, which a clandestine order of Oakland artists called the Nonchalance Collective have been projecting on to the walls of landmark buildings around their hometown. When stumbling on to one of these free screenings, as keen pedestrians are apt to, viewers too may find themselves becoming the living extension of a larger social organism.

For Nonchalance, these bodies of humanity, both on the wall and in the streets, are the medium. "We use art as an instrument" explains Nonchalance founder Jeff Hull. "But actually, we view ourselves as social engineers with a sense of civic responsibility. The streets of Oakland are our laboratory. They're our canvas, guide, and playground."

My first exposure to Nonchalance came in the form of a black vinyl sticker adhered to the base of a sawed off parking meter in front of my apartment building on Fruitvale. It said "Oaklandish" and had the re-appropriation of the old city logo, this time with the roots added to the tree emblem. I began to notice the sticker everywhere, to the point of irritation. It was when I inadvertently discovered a Nonchalant event one summer evening (a tale that can wait a few paragraphs) that I suddenly realized the design held a deeper significance than most common tags. "The Oaklandish sticker is a calling card leading to an entire body of information," states Hull. "It's a little clue. And if you're tuned in to the clues, then you're tuned in to the events. The events are where our real passions lie".

And so Hull for the past two years, with the growing allegiance of Nonchalance, has been faithfully dedicated to creating public art campaigns designed to lure Oaklanders out of their homes and on to the streets. The first of these works was the City of Dreams digital slideshow (6/00) which featured 130 images of local legends, projected on landmarks around town, set to an original hip hop score.

The concept has since developed into a pirate movie theater, The Liberation Drive-In, which presents subversive film and video in a large parking lot in downtown Oakland with the soundtrack broadcast over shortwave FM radio. Other Nonchalant creations include the Epoxy Cabal Micro-Installations, and the Legendary Eightees slideshow of local graffiti masterpieces from the golden era of hip hop.

"Graffiti writers are my predecessors in the urban arts" states Hull. "They continually risked arrest just to create something unique and beautiful. The screenings we do are just an extension of that same spirit, expressing yourself in public. We're playing with technology, though, and bringing a live, performative element to it. But it's still throwing ideas on a wall."

The state, in its many branches, does not have the same appreciation for crowds that Hull does. Although the right to assemble is constitutionally protected (last time we checked) there are still a myriad of restrictions on when and where people are allowed to gather. So it is inevitable that when a Nonchalant event has a decent turnout, the police are there too, attempting to end it. "That's part of the art form" says Hull, "and the high".

This phenomena of crowd control occurred on the evening two summers ago when I first witnessed a Nonchalant event. Having arbitrarily stumbled upon the screening, I quickly learned what was going on; The Legendary Eightees digital slideshow, produced by the playfully monickered Bay Area Aerosol Heritage Society, a branch of Nonchalance.

Sure enough, midway through the presentation there were four police cars with flashing lights, two cars on either side of the lot. The adrenaline of the audience surged slightly when the officers made their way through the crowd trying to identify who was in charge. But the small clique of artists gave nothing away. Eventually Hull was identified, and he politely conversed with the officers over a long stretch of time, slyly allowing the show to continue. Just then a series of graff pieces on the subject of police harassment hit the wall, and by this point half the cops were watching the show. The image appeared of an adolescent black kid standing in a b-boy stance in front of a large painted wall that read "fuck the police, fuck the state, and..." with the sentence trailing off screen. The crowd cheered and laughed, and instantaneously the police ordered Hull to end the show, or face the confiscation of all his equipment.

Of course, I thought the show was over. Walking away I heard murmurs of voices telling folks to meet in half an hour outside the Oakland Museum - Oak Street side. Sure enough, Plan B was in full effect and by eleven we were all sprawled out in the stone courtyard watching the wall lit with projections of classic era graffiti murals, one brilliant piece fading into the next. Street monologues on theory were dressed over low key beats as new colors and information pollinated the night air.

Then, at the end of the program the logo beamed off the concrete, that old city tree with the roots extended: "OAKLANDISH". The audience whooped and hollered with celebratory pride.

Since that time Nonchalance has moved on to fill other under-utilized spaces with local humanity. Most recently, two successful events on Lake Merritt; Salsa by the Lake, and the Lake Merritt Radio Regatta where free-wheeling boaters tune in to the FM broadcast of the party going on lakeside in the Boat House. There has also been the Black Moses BBQ in Juaquin Miller Park, and the presence of the Oaklandish Mobile Operations Unit at all the major street festivals. "The Mobile-Ops Unit is my pride and joy" says Hull. "It's a camper van tricked out with generator, projector, FM transmitter, Keg tap, P.A., tight graphics... basically a multi-media party production unit on wheels where we can bring the love to you anywhere, anytime".

"I like crowds. I like creating them. But I'm expanding outside of Oakland right now", he explains. "There's a need to reach beyond, to germinate bigger ponds".

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further studies: worm holes