“Painting them made me happy, and they received a much stronger reaction that I ever would have imagined,” he said. By initially painting the honey bears on mailboxes, he wanted to prove something creative and interesting could be done with mundane objects that are seen everyday. The legality (or lack thereof) of the act of street art, particularly on government-owned objects such as mailboxes, added an edge to his work and sparked a conversation. Who could ever look at an innocent honey bear and think of it as an act of public defamation? In the eyes of the law, however, that is exactly what it is.
“If the thing you’re looking at is technically illegal, but it brings you joy and isn’t hurting anyone, you want it to stay,” fnnch explained. “That conundrum inspires thought in a sense. It’s deeper than that; it’s about changing the way people feel about art in their public space, and view their public space as a whole.”
With San Francisco’s street art laws much stricter than those in other California cities, not to mention cities across the country, fnnch’s call for reevaluation and review are not unwarranted. For a city whose mainstay is progress and innovation, such archaic ways of looking at public art do seem to be a bit hypocritical. “There is little culture of appreciation here to sustain an art scene, but that doesn’t mean there is no hope,” fnnch offered. “For example, the tech scene brought in a lot of money and threw it at the culinary scene. That’s a huge change that was spurred by people’s love and affinity for good food.”“There is little culture of appreciation here to sustain an art scene, but that doesn’t mean there is no hope[…]”— fnnch
He’s not wrong. San Francisco now has more Michelin three-starred restaurants than New York City. And while money is not inherently conducive to culture, it sure helps it disseminate a whole lot faster. It’s natural that a wealthy city would want to dine well; hopefully a more diverse art culture could also be elevated in a similar fashion. In this vein, fnnch has become increasingly more sought after in the wake of his honey bear revolution. He often is asked to create art for companies or personal collectors, though he maintains a standard of interest and transparency in taking such projects.
“It is dependent on the viewpoint of the artist; in this way, I try to stay open-minded,” he explained. “I’m not so rigid that I can’t be moved by unsuspecting opportunities.” By the same token, his art is not fundamentally about creating commercial projects or constantly taking on commissioned works. Getting rich has never been the endgame. In short, he knows the drill.
“If I wanted to make a lot of money, I wouldn’t be an artist.” This begs the question, what’s up with the anonymity? If not for the money, is fame also off the table? “Does gender, age, or sexuality have anything to do with the art?” fnnch responded. “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t want people to tie who I am to the art.” In truth, he stakes a solid claim. Paramount to anything else, the artist believes, is the inclusivity and accessibility of art. The hand behind the spray paint, the face behind the stencil is not inherently relevant to the movement the work itself inspires. fnnch believes art shouldn’t always be contingent on one’s education or exposure. It should be able to reach a mass audience of people in an array of venues—from museums to the street.
// Originally published in Issue 7. Photography by Anthony Rogers.
