A couple of years back we experienced a particularly fruitful phase of stenciling and street pieces all over central Dunedin, presumably the work of local art school hellions but we never did find out fo sho. Our favourite was the inimitable Biz Niz; his-slash-her exact provenance and taxonomy remain as mysterious as the identity of his-slash-her creator, but we certainly enjoyed BizNiz's sense of spatial entitlement and revilement of the mundane. Power streams from each restive tentacle; BizNiz's roar is the infra-bass bugle of cosmic rage we ourselves express at the sight of commercial TV or NZ print media. In demanding sustenance, BizNiz echoes our cries for social justice and cheaper unsalted roast almonds. BizNiz means business; BizNiz is business. BizNiz transcends.
I don't know about Banana Giraffe, though. That bitch just seems so apolitical.
Enjoy the few bombs we managed to document before the apogee they represented began to wane like the tail of some aerosol comet. BizNiz used to girn down at us all from the top floor of the abandoned Post Office building in a gesture of comprehensive defiance. We miss him-slash-her.
Thought we'd throw in a few related images from the same period. If you know BizNiz's parent or you are that savant, dime yourself in for full credit.
I don't know about Banana Giraffe, though. That bitch just seems so apolitical.
Enjoy the few bombs we managed to document before the apogee they represented began to wane like the tail of some aerosol comet. BizNiz used to girn down at us all from the top floor of the abandoned Post Office building in a gesture of comprehensive defiance. We miss him-slash-her.
Thought we'd throw in a few related images from the same period. If you know BizNiz's parent or you are that savant, dime yourself in for full credit.
Banana Giraffe: rolling on a longboard, still wedged in the ashy buttocks of apathy.
^The unluckiest spectre: like, dopest stigmata eva or proof of transubstantiation?
^The BizNiz; potent, even while pensive.
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