Street Art in Action

One of my favorite things about city living is the street art. From huge murals to the Invaders all around Paris, I love any street art that makes the city a bit more interesting to look at.

Yesterday I got to see it in action for the first time.

On our morning walk to crèche, I noticed some old, ugly, broken furniture on the sidewalk. It’s not unusual for people to put old furniture on the street, especially this particular stretch of sidewalk, so I’m not really sure why I took more notice than usual of this stuff. I even pointed it out to our toddler and said, “Hey look, ugly furniture!” although she didn’t care, more interested in the pigeons pecking at the trash nearby.

When I turned that same corner in the afternoon, the furniture was still there, but it had a small crowd gathered around it. They were watching a street artist at work.

I actually recognized his style from other spots in the neighborhood, like on the safety doors that cover shops at night and on the outside wall of a local pharmacy.

I snapped a quick picture but had to get to crèche pick-up. When we came out 10 minutes later, he was done. We went up close to look at the art for a few minutes, and we listened to the artist chat with some of the other onlookers. In that moment I desperately wished for better conversational French skills so I could talk to him too, but my mind went blank of any relevant French.

Work in progress when I went into crèche for pickup, finished products by the time we left

He goes by “Le D” (here’s his website and his Instagram). He says he’s passionate about making art accessible to all, and his process is one of improvisation and feeling guided by the setting.

I like the ephemeral nature of his work. When I walked down that sidewalk just an hour after taking these photos, all of the furniture was gone. Did the artist take it? Did the trash truck come haul it away? Did some enterprising people take the furniture for themselves? No clue.

My favorite street art is the kind that transforms otherwise unsightly things — a boring wall, scaffolding, out of business shops. It brings joy and life to things you’d usually ignore or be annoyed by. It makes it fun to look around and notice things.

The experience reminded me of the one other time I met a street artist.

When we lived in London, we had friends who had an amazing piece of street art in their living room. We found out they commissioned a street artist for the piece when they lived in Chicago. As soon as we heard that idea, we knew we were going to steal it (the idea, not the art) for the blank wall above our sofa.

For the next few months, we kept an eye out for interesting street art. I worked in Holborn, and there was a construction site between my office and the tube. One day, the plywood was transformed with unusual characters standing in front of a London skyline. One was holding a sign that said “Are you inspired?” I loved everything about it. After I showed my husband, he agreed that it would be amazing to have a piece like that. So what did I do? Slid into the artist’s DMs, of course.

I found Nathan Bowen on Instagram and asked if he did commissions. When he said yes, I gave him our size (200cm x 150cm), we agreed on a price, and he got to work. He did a few sketches, and we went back and forth about things like the size of the characters and the skyline until it was just right. A few weeks later, the piece was ready.

The original street art in Holborn and our commissioned piece, now in Paris.

One Saturday morning, we rode the tube for about an hour and walked 20 minutes to the artist’s house. We met his wife and baby and dog, checked the piece, and paid him. And then it was just us and 6.5ft x 5ft of canvas and wood.

We had decided earlier that it’d be too much of a hassle to rent a van for the pick-up, which in hindsight was a mistake. But we looked at each other, laughed, and then we carried on and took the same route home. That canvas was like a sail in the misty London weather. We got to the tube and navigated various escalators, hallways, and crowds. Two tube lines and countless strange looks later, we made it home. After two years of living in that flat, we finally had a piece for that blank wall above our couch.

I definitely wouldn’t recommend transporting original art by foot and by tube, especially when it’s wider than most doorways, but it’s a core memory of us building our home in London.

And in my research after yesterday’s run-in, I noticed “Le D” does commissions as well. Might be time to see which walls in our apartment might need a new piece.