Take Me There: Story of Public Art, Subways, Universities and Vacancy in Centro, Buenos Aires and Houston, NYC

Public art legislation has a profound impact on the way artistic expression is realized. New York City’s approach to graffiti is outspokenly aggressive: “The New York City Police Department in keeping with its pledge to aggressively pursue and apprehend quality of life offenders, is focusing on graffiti vandals.” The 8-page NYPD report “Combatting Graffiti” categorizes the types of Graffiti, affirms its criminality, and establishes the laws created to combat it. It also offers a $500 reward to those that “report graffiti vandalism” and provides instructions for tenants and building owners if their property is defaced. Buenos Aires, on the other hand, has become somewhat of an idealized haven for graffiti and street artists due to its extremely lax legislation or even lack thereof regarding the act, with tour groups capitalizing on the city’s thousands of elaborate murals that are always changing. In this case of legislation, the question of property and ownership of publicly visible space is brought to the forefront as it is generally accepted in the city for a wall to be painted by someone as long as they have the property owner’s permission. A different economy of art and public space is created here and many homeowners will actually commission artists to paint murals on the front of their houses as to avoid it being covered in less aesthetically pleasing tags. The mayor of Buenos Aires, Mauricio Macri said during his campaign that anti-graffiti efforts should be part of any plan to help clean up the city, but since his election in 2007, no major initiatives have been undertaken; the only instance of graffiti being strictly illegal and punishable in the capitol is if it contains ethnic or racial slurs, which are not common within the more political and humans rights focused work seen around Centro. For the purposes of our data collection and this paper, however, all graffiti tags and political stencils were marked under the category of “illicit,” because it is likely permission was not given.

We began our comparative analysis of the public art dynamics, and in particular the occurrence of artistic work in the public context through the visualization of our data.[1] We were able to identify observational clusters around subway stations in both beats, which prompted the following statistical analysis. The primary geospatial data employed was obtained from semester-long fieldwork data collection efforts undertaken in the Centro beat in Buenos Aires and Houston Street in New York City. The publicly available data of subway entrance coordinates for both cities from the official Buenos Aires Ciudad[2] and NYC Open Data[3] websites constituted the secondary source of data.

The data gathering process described above resulted in two sets of location coordinates: locations of public art and subway entrances. Using this data, we identified pairs of coordinate sets where the distance between the public art and subway entrances would be minimized, resulting in a variable that constituted the distance from the public art location to the nearest subway stop. Finally, we also Quote reads "...we hypothesized that illicit public art would occur closer to subway stops..."included in our analysis the status of public art as ‘licit’ or ‘illicit.’ The term licit referred to public art that has been done legally, such as commissioned or permitted mural, whereas the term ‘illicit’ referred to public art that was done illegally, for example graffiti or tags.[4] Based on the data described above, we hypothesized that illicit public art would occur closer to subway stops, due to the visibility and accessibility of such spaces. Furthermore, we hypothesized that the effect of the distance to the nearest subway stop would be moderated by the theme of that art. For this purpose, we created a dichotomous variable, indicating whether any given piece was ‘explicitly politically themed or minorities/feminist agenda related’ or not. We believe this would be due to the fact, especially in Buenos Aires, that the political groups and civil rights activists would seek the convenience of the public transport and the visibility of the public spaces more than artists that are not concerned with ensuring that their message is heard by the largest number of people possible. In order to test these hypotheses we utilized general linear model analysis with the Bernoulli distribution chosen as the distribution function.[5]

Our first coefficient estimates for both beats, referring to the distance to the nearest subway station, are statistically significant (p<0.05).[6] As expected, for the Centro beat in Buenos Aires this coefficient is negative, suggesting that there is a negative relationship between the nearest subway station and the probability of art being illicit or, in other words, as the distance to the public art from the station decreases the probability that the art is illicit increases. Intriguingly, however for Houston Street in New York this effect is inversed; the closer the public art is to the subway station the higher the probability that it is licit.[7]

Second, for both beats, the estimate for the ‘theme’ coefficient is not statistically distinguishable from zero. We interpret this to mean that the theme of art alone does not affect where it is going to be located in relation to the subway stations in our beats. However, partially in line with our predictions, the estimate for the interaction between the distance to the nearest subway station and the theme of the art in Buenos Aires is statistically distinguishable from zero at a 91% confidence level. The negative coefficient suggests non-politics or activism related themes attenuate the relationship between the distance to subway stops and the probability of the work being illicit. In other words, the distance from the nearest subway stop is going to increase the probability of the art being illicit, especially when that art is politics or civil activism related. However, for Houston these results did not reach statistical significance and hence, statistically are indistinguishable from zero.

To put these results in more concrete terms, we present the following predicted probabilities of the art being illicit for the nearest distance of a subway station being zero kilometers (art located at the subway station) and 0.4 km (art located 1 km from subway station) for two categorizations of art in Buenos Aires. Furthermore, we include a graph visualizing our results for Buenos Aires.

Predicted probability of legality of art in Centro. Data shows most graffiti took place closer to the subway.Data show probability of art being illicit decreases as distance from the subway increases

It is clear from this data that the influence of the art theme is indeed noticeable. We are able to see the main effect of distance to the nearest subway station on the probability of art’s legality: the further away public art is located in the Centro beat, the more probable that it is legal. It becomes evident that when public art is located close to such a high-circulation area as the subway in the center of Buenos Aires, regardless of its theme, there is a very high probability that it is illegal. Nevertheless, when the theme of the art is taken into account, we can see that as we move further away from these high-traffic hubs, not only does the probability that it is illegal decrease, we see that it decreases especially for political and activism related art.

In Buenos Aires, this does not seem to be surprising. As we will discuss in further detail below, many of the youth activist movements are connected to higher educational institutions, with a primary goal of making visible their effort to call public attention to their concern. Moreover, subway stations present a perfect logistic opportunity for these groups to travel to distinct locations and hence disperse their messages. This seems to be supported by the fact that the art’s theme had a statistically significant interaction effect with the distance to the nearest subway station, whereas this was not the case for NYC, becoming further evidence supporting our claim that political and civil activism plays a decisive role in the location of the art in Centro but not in Houston.

Notably, however, in Houston the relationship between subway stations and public art is reversed, farther away from subway stations the probability that art is illicit becomes higher. This difference between the two cities is critical for our comparative analysis. We offer several possible explanations for this. Firstly, as mentioned previously, the legislation around public art and writing is much more stringent and punitive in New York City than in Buenos Aires, and perhaps the visibility offered by the subway stations may act a stronger deterrent in the Northern part of the continent. An example of these differences is the increasing surveillance in the New York public transport system, as well as around the city.[8] Furthermore, city officials may commission more licit public art around high-traffic areas such as subway stops.

It is also important to note that the mapping methodology for the Houston Beat like influenced data trends towards licit art. Because smaller illicit tags are routinely cleaned from New York City subway stations, the team chose to focus on larger licit pieces such as a murals. Small tags, posters, and stickers litter the staircases of Houston’s subways, particularly the N & R and 4, 5, 6. Per New York City legislation 10-117 these small pieces of graffiti are illegal and are wiped away from platforms by MTA employees.

Beginning in 1984, the MTA purchased easily washable stainless-steel cars as part of an overall commitment to eliminate Graffiti. This action was supplemented by a partnership with the NYPD and a MTA specialized Eagle Team, made up of retired NYPD officers, to patrol subways platforms and cars for potential vandals. Technological efforts include “cameras, stronger lighting, tougher perimeter fencing and nearly 50,000 vigilant employees who believe in saying something when they see something” (MTA). An interesting experiment would be to use the NYPD and MTA cameras to track illicit tagging and its subsequent elimination.

Despite the MTA’s efforts, NYC subways remain beacons of activity for both ephemeral tagging and Quote reads "Whereas the NYC subway system is dispersed, subway lines in Buenos Aires all converge in the Centro Beat."licit pieces. This probably relates to the visibility that subway stations facilitate. SOHO, as a major hub for New York’s creative industries (art, fashion, music, etc.), is probably particularly attractive to artists. New York Graffiti artists have had a long relationship with SOHO, Chelsea and the Lower East Side. Geographically creative sectors often attract the work of amateur artists who hope to be noticed. This has been demonstrated by artists like Jean-Michael Basquiat whose Graffiti moniker SAMO© peppered lower Manhattan art hot spots like SoHo galleries and the School of Visual Arts in the late 70s. GQ writer Glenn O’Brien noted that “Ninety percent of SAMO graffiti was executed in the heart of the art neighborhood. He kind of stuck to SoHo… So that it was sort of advertising for himself.”[9]

Similar trends emerge from the data analysis in the SOHO area. However, because of the strict legal enforcements on graffiti, illicit art campaigns like Basquiat’s rarely are on show for long. Conversely, licit murals have found stability in the Houston Street area. Their proximity to subway stations could be a carry over from past street artist’s marketing techniques.

Additionally, when comparing the two beats it is imperative to note the structural differences between the two subway systems, which may in turn lead to the differences in public art dynamic suggested by our analysis. Whereas the NYC subway system is dispersed, subway lines in Buenos Aires all converge in the Centro Beat. As discussed by Anthon Rosenthanl in his historical analysis of the trolley cars in Montevideo, Uruguay, “the electric streetcar was a powerful shaper of both public space and collective behaviour, … [it] was both an agent of social change and a socially constructed space in itself.”[10] The contemporary subway, the modern successor of the trolley car, similarly creates a democratizing, socially constructed space that, as our analysis here suggests, can become a powerful shaper of public space, in our case, through attracting public art. The subways, as artificially created hyper-social zones, become contested by necessarily allowing for a temporary coexistence of normally segregated social classes; individuals from vastly different backgrounds are subjected to the sharing of intimately close space, thus cutting across social and class lines. These spaces are not only limiting and confined, they are also mobile, becoming the veins of metropolises transporting the blood cells of the city. Unlike in NYC, however, these blood vessels all connect in the city’s heart, the Centro Beat. In other words, these democratic tensions find their catharsis in Plaza de Mayo and the Obelisco with their contestation unleashed on the walls of Avenida de Mayo, thus offering another explanation for the agglomeration of illicit, politically charged public art.

Graffiti in a parking lot in NYC
Figure 1

Nevertheless, subways lines and stations are clearly not the only reason that street art tends to cluster together. As seen in the Houston beat, another common reason is that large collections of tags tend to be found in spaces that are currently vacant. In particular the southern boundary of the beat, which is Spring Street and runs through the West Village and SoHo neighborhood, has quite a few areas that have become overflown with tags. One such area is the empty lot on the southwest corner of the intersection of Spring Street and Wooster Street. Upscale shops and restaurants surround the lot, which is typical of the neighborhood, and the lot is currently blocked off with a chain link fence around the perimeter. However, tags have overrun the area from many different artists which can be seen on figure 1. According to Google Maps, the lot had been used for an outdoor market, but has been vacant since July of 2012, and the increase in large tags starting the following years[11]. Very similarly, on the corner of Spring Street and Bowery, an abandon building has become a hotspot for artists to leave their mark behind. Hundreds of tags and postings adorn the sides of the building, making it near impossible to differentiate the different tags from one another. Instead a collage dominated by black spray paint and the occasional hints of color emerges, as can be seen in this video. But what is so special about these two vacant sites and their collection of street art?

In both incidents of Spring & Wooster and Spring & Bowery highlight the fight for space that occurs in New York street art. As with the problem that New York City has faced in terms of population, there is a competition to see who can get into a certain space. Manhattan is an island and cannot expand beyond its borders – there is no more room for the city to grow. Therefore every inch is precious and needs to be used to maximized to its fullest. So when these vacant spaces become available it becomes a rush to see who can get there first and claim the area for themselves, in a sense like a modern conquest. According to data from the 2010 United States Census, both area are densely populated with the area near Spring & Wooster (Tract 49) have a population density of 61,738.4 people per square mile, and the area surrounding Spring & Bowery (Tract 43) with 74,104.3 people per square mile.[12] These areas are small tracts of space with a lot of people who live in them, and there is a constant battle for space. Street artists want to be able to claim their own section of space and be able to display their own work. Therefore, the street artists are constantly going back and attempting to reclaim their territory, and it creates the collages of tags that are seen all over these two vacant areas today.

The number of clusters are severely restricted by the spaces that are available, or vacant. The United States Census in 2010 also recorded the number of vacant spaces and occupied spaces at the time. Tract 43 reported that 202 units were vacant at the time while 2387 were occupied, and Tract 49 had Screen Shot 2016-01-28 at 2.24.39 AMsimilar number – reporting that 263 units were vacant and 2906 units were occupied at the time.[13] In comparison, the number of vacant units or spaces is quite lower than the occupied units levels, reflecting the lack of available space in the area. While these numbers are to reflect the housing levels, it also is suggestive of what the area is like. There are not many open areas in the small space that people can into. It’s filled to the brim, and that’s what is allowing for these clusters of tags and illicit street art to form. The trend between vacant space and street art will be interesting to continue watching. The 2010 Census reported that Tract 49 experienced a much larger growth in terms of vacant units with a 60.4% increase since 2010, while Tract 43 had only seen a 16.8% increase. This trend is particularly visible with Spring & Wooster as the lot has only become vacant since 2012, which suggests the trend is continuing and could be a reason for the increase of street art in the area.

Similarly to Houston, in Buenos Aires the Subte stations alone were unable to explain all clustering of street art, which became clear as we noticed an outlying cluster of data points on Avenida de Mayo between Piedras and Chacabuco that did not coincide with any Subte station or any other obvious landmark. Upon further investigation we found that in this area at address 761 is an unoccupied building that used to be what is known as the Consejo de La Magistratura Poder Judicial de La Nación (Council to the Judicial Power of the Nation) and it is currently covered in tags, stencils, and drawings. Many of the stronger political graffitis we found addressing international topics such as Israeli-Palestinian conflict and Libya were found here, as well as writing more relevant to Argentina’s political history and sayings like “Nunca Mas.” As in Houston, it is clear that the vacancy of this building must have played an important role in the agglomeration of art here as well. However, it would seem that beyond vacancy, since people do not have as many restrictive laws to worry about in Buenos Aires, this space was sought ought as a symbolic platform to voice political concerns in a public space. The public’s politics and concern for human rights is, since the last dictatorship, deeply embedded in the history of Argentina and many youth political groups carry on that tradition by both demonstrating and spreading their message and name throughout public space. A further analysis of this area may validate that assumption of student involvement as it seems that surrounding the outlying cluster of the abandoned judiciary council, there are in fact a disproportionate amount of university buildings.[14] This connection is more significant in Argentina due to the history its universities have in housing and producing some of the country’s most radical political and social groups. These groups tend to meet weekly within the university for discussion, as in Buenos Aires the university acts as a safe space for these groups where police are not allowed. It is very likely, then, that beyond the judiciary building the increase in graffiti and practical exclusivity of “feminist/minority” themed graffiti between Avenida Nueve de Julio and Plaza de Mayo has something to do with this increase in universities in that area.

This particular university environment is conducive for certain types of public art that plasters the streets of Centro, and Avenida de Mayo in particular. Politically themed art in the Centro Beat tends to utilize spraypaint and stencils as its primary media. Reproducibility becomes essential for these movements that are mostly made up of younger, civic-minded activists, since their primary goal is to disseminate their messages as effectively and efficiently as possible, with the greatest visibility. There is also an element of guerilla-type activism and subversion in these efforts; although graffiti is not illegal in Buenos Aires, spray painting a permanent message about abortion on the facade of a church still carries an impact regardless of rebellious connotation. Though spray-painted messages and stencils are the most often occurring politically themed art, murals are also present. These, however, are mostly produced by more established or expressly artistic activism oriented organizations, such as the ultra-kirchnerist[15] political youth movement La Cámpora, or Red Sudakas and Colectivo Político Ricardo Carpani peronist Argentine artistic collectives expressing their views through an artistic representation of their ideals.

The style of these murals is usually conversant with the traditions of Mexican muralism. This style, originating at the beginning of the 20th century in Mexico, is characterized by setting a politically salient agenda for art, understanding the main objective of artistic expression to be proactive; a zealous medium for social communication and ideological dissemination.[16] In line with this tradition, these murals oftentimes include heroic representations of Argentina’s past, engaging in profound identity-formation. Iconic images of national idols, such as José San Martín, a leading figure of Argentina’s independence movement, and ‘Evita’ Perón.

<img class=”ngg-singlepic ngg-none” src=”https://bpb-us-e1.wpmucdn.com/wp.nyu.edu/dist/4/2424/files/nggallery/maksimov-vlad-1/Maksimov-Vlad-1_1.png” alt=”Centro Beat, Avenida de Mayo: RED Sudakas, “Justa, libre, y soberana”” width=”614″ height=”461″> figure 3

As Jane Jacobs argues in her essay on aesthetization in contemporary cities, “aesthetization operates as the logic of many more modest urban transformations, such as streetscaping, place making, and community arts projects. Some of these…may be addressing alternate agendas such as building identity or facilitating political formations…”[17] In our case, these political murals were and still are vital to political agenda of the formation and reformation of kirchnerist identities in Buenos Aires. As addressed by several commentators, the economic meltdown of 2001 led to “emergence of Kirchnerism” by capitalizing on “identity construction in the antagonism field.” “The kirchnerist ideological-cultural matrix, … through the definition of the adversary,”[18] placed itself in a “certain political ideology. Starting from the electoral campaign, the discourse and Kirchner’s position on stage framed itself in the discursive tradition of peronism. However, within this discourse, the President “defined himself as an ‘impure peronist,’ opposing ‘traditional’ peronism, associated with menemism, neoliberalism and the ‘old ways of doing politics.’”[19] The political murals in Centro reflect this agenda of image and identity creation. Though the majority did vote for Cristina Kirchner in 2011 in this area (37.39% in Sección 1, Comuna 1 and 39.46% Sección 3, Comuna 3), these percentages are significantly lower than in many areas of Gran Buenos Aires, where Kirchner was able to win more than half the votes. Despite not being as popular here as in other areas, this area has a high number of kirchnerist murals. Although several iconic elements and symbols tie such murals to the past and underscore their allegiance with the ideals of peronism, they carry within themselves a rejection of the “old way of doing politics.” For instance, the Red Sudakas mural (figure 3) on Avenida de Mayo makes references to the ‘heroes’ of Argentina, the obreros invading during the 1945 October protests the “most central zones [of Buenos Aires that] were the territory of those with some degree of political, social, and cultural status.”[20]”It would be difficult to imagine a more encapsulated expression of the clash of behavioral and notions of propriety.” The placement of this Quote reads: These murals are not static. They are a dynamic part of the city that sensitively responds to the current political climatemural, only meters away from Plaza de Mayo, the epicenter of these protests, is thus a clear homage to peronism and the ‘heroic’ workers that completely redefined what is proper. In this way, the mural aesthetically places itself within the “ideological-cultural matrix” of the pedronist discourse. However, when interpreted in conjunction with the adjoining caption above, it becomes clear that it is indeed an example of an antagonistic strategy of putting kirchnerismo in opposition to the ‘old way of doing politics.’ This text reads: “The best homage is to continue building a just, free and sovereign homeland,” calling into question the ‘neoliberal’ ‘menemist’ politics that opened Argentina up to the devastating crisis. In sum, this mural demonstrates how political art in Centro is a vital part of political and ideological identity formation. Moreover, these murals are not static. They are a dynamic part of the city that sensitively responds to the current political climate through being constantly transformed, with elements added or, in some cases, completely repainted. They are living art.

Like the street art in Buenos Aires, some of the pieces that are in the Houston Street beat capture and reflect on the past for its inspiration. As Houston Street is one of the main throughways to cross downtown Manhattan, it is the prime location for an artist to create work that would be highly visible to a multitude of passersby. So when the more explicit work is created, it tends to reflect on issues that have been deep routed into the area. For example, a tag located near the subway station on the corner of Broadway & Houston, reading “Fuck SoHo” reflects on the lingering feeling of disdain that sometimes stills occurs in the area. Analyzing the juxtaposition of the economic data and mapped street art gives us some clues as to why this is. The area of SoHo has a much higher median income rate than the East Village – median incomes of between $75,000 and $125,000 compared to about $50,000.[22] This results in most of the street art being commissioned. West of Broadway, where graffiti reads "fuck soho"income and population is highest, reveals the fewest instances of street art. This makes sense: it is a residential area of wealthier citizens. Because of this enforcement of graffiti regulation is high and fewer licit murals are approved. From a racial and historical perspective, the SoHo area has been one of extreme gentrification. East Houston and the LES housed Irish, Italians, Poles, Ukrainians, and Jewish culture. Neighborhoods like Little Italy and Chinatown’s official monikers are a product of immigration. But SoHo, known for its relationship with art commerce, is far from a hospitable place for working class immigrants. For mainstream New York, SoHo has become the example of the positive outlook of gentrification and how it can turn into a thriving neighborhood, and is part of the bedrock of support for the argument to gentrify a neighborhood. So while, it does seem to reflect a common thread that street art looks to the past to help create its message, there is a big difference. As mentioned previously, the street art in Centro tends to work to create political identities. The art is New York, and in particular the Houston Street beat is looking more on addressing issues that are focused in the New York area. A tag like “Fuck SoHo” would not appear anywhere or make sense in another location. The street art is using its location as a way to provide context and meaning to the piece. Therefore, the street art that is being produced in New York can only work here, and it makes it’s own. It has its own identity that can only fit here. So instead of working to create a political identity like it does in Centro, Houston Street serves as an example where street art is creating an identity for itself as part of New York City.

It is also interesting to, as a parallel between Centro and Houston, consider the street art in the physical context that it is located, especially in physical relation to institutions like New York University (NYU). The beat’s northern boundary abuts what is considered the end of NYU’s campus, especially in the area that runs from Sixth Avenue to Third Avenue (Bowery). Because of NYU’s location, the population and demographics have greatly been altered. The East Village, located on the eastern half of the beat, has a much younger population than West Village. As seen in Map 3, the area around the West Village has a much lower average age, which reflects this trend of NYU students living in the area. Like most universities, NYU has a reputation of being a more liberal institution, and more embracive and supportive of the different art forms – street art included. The East Village’s liberal politics can be seen in three elections district’s results for the 2013 mayoral race in New York City, where Bill De Blasio, the Democratic candidate received 86.8% (Election District 74010), 82.6% (Election District 65077), and 89.9% (Election District 66026) of the vote in the race.[23] With such a large percent of the voting population choosing to support a liberal candidate, helps to explain why street art is being commissioned and allowed into the area. The neighborhood wants to allow people to have the ability to create, and this is another way that this can be allowed. People can spread their message and ideas, much like the street art is being used to convey certain political messages. New York seems to be focusing on the aesthetic and making more appealing art. Therefore, location and institutions surrounding the street art have a dramatic impact on the work. If the area surrounding Houston Street was more focused on the politics of the area, it is safe to believe that the work would be similar to what is being created and produced in Buenos Aires. It would have those explicitly political messages, but because the beat is surrounded by a liberal university and a neighborhood that promotes itself as a leader in high fashion and art, the street art is going to reflect those tastes. It will be that colorful and seemingly whimsically art that people like to look at. Some will break from the mold, but for the most part, the environment will help shape the work that is produced.

Map using color to depict artistic density
Map 3

Looking forward for the Houston Street beat, it would be interesting to track how the availability of space continues to alter where street art is being created, and if more clusters will continue to emerge from it. As the data from the United States Census shows and from observations of walking in the beat, vacancies seem to be becoming more and more common in the area, and it should be something that should be considered when further examining the patterns of graffiti that emerge. Space and visibility are two things that are crucial to street art, and in a space like Manhattan where they are such limited resources, it is important that artists capitalize on it as much as possible, so it will be exciting to see how this trend continues to play out in relation to the location where art is created. It will also be important to continue further examine the battle between licit and illicit street art. As more political images begin to emerge in New York City that have connections to the past, will art become more political? Or will street art still favor quick tags that claim space, which are to a degree in the sense that they are claiming space for the artist, or will they finally become more explicitly political like the street art that is found in the Centro beat? This battle between status and message will continue to play an important role in understanding Houston Street’s graffiti and street art, as it explains a lot of the character and meaning behind the different pieces. Further examination of these trends will allow for a more complete understanding of the art and how it functions in the different neighborhoods that Houston Street intersects and traverses through.

With the upcoming presidential elections in October, the Centro beat will be particularly active and interesting to focus on in regards to political graffiti. It will be important to track these changes and the different tensions and issues that come up within the work. What murals are changed and why? How is artistic space contested by differing political movements? One of the main concerns we had when collecting data in this beat was the categorization of this political graffiti, as we had to choose “feminist/minority” and merge the two together or “explicitly political,” which a piece could also be both at once. Having a better system to manage and organize these tags is imperative for tracking the progress in this beat and breaking down the data afterwards. Tracking specific political issues that have been addressed such as the need for safe and legal abortion should be considered as these issues progress and are debated in courts. While there is less of an explicit relationship between licit/illicit art than in Houston St. for this beat it may be interesting to further explore the more licit and less politically involved murals that reside here. How are these murals formed and what is their relationship to the space if not political, since that is how most art in the area seems to get its identity?

In conclusion, we have seen that art in Centro Beat and Houston differs in many respects. While image and identity making in Centro is focused on national political and ideological lines, Houston offers more neighborhood and location-specific artistic commentary. Nevertheless, there is some convergence in how, where and why art is produced. As demonstrated by our statistical analysis, public transport plays a crucial role in predicting the legality of art through a variety of mechanisms. Additionally, educational centers, and particularly universities, as well as the vacancy status of residences add multiple dimensions to the nature and location of public art. Though the underlying historical and contextual causal currents are vastly different across the two areas, it is fascinating to see the similarities of these mechanisms.

Footnotes

[1]

Map pointing to areas with graffiti
Map 1
Map showing graffiti in New York City's West village
Map 2

 

[2] http://data.buenosaires.gob.ar/dataset

[3] https://nycopendata.socrata.com/

[4] Observations where this data was not available were excluded from analysis.

[5] The legality status of the art was treated as a dichotomous outcome variable. The nearest distance to a subway station and the theme of the art (as a dichotomous variable indicating whether the art is ‘Political/Feminist/Minority related’) were treated as the explanatory variables.

[6] Full regression tables containing every pertinent statistic:

 

Screen Shot 2016-01-28 at 2.36.51 AM

Screen Shot 2016-01-28 at 2.36.58 AM

[7]Following the initial modeling stage of our analysis, we have analyzed our dataset for highly influential observations using Cook’s Distance. After the subsequent removal of anomalous observations from the dataset we found that none of the statistical significance levels changed as consequence of anomalous observation removal. Hence, here we discuss our results excluding anomalous observations.

[8] Ross Barkan, “Not-So-Camera Shy: Democrats Hail the Rise of Surveillance,” Observer 2014.

[9] Mayer, Marc. “Basquiat in History.” Basquiat. New York: Merril Publishers Limited, 2005.: 19.

[10] Ronn Pineo and James Baer, “Dangerous Streets, “Trolleys, Labor Conflict, and Reorganization of Public Space in Montevideo, Uruguay”,” in Cities of Hope: People, Protest, and Progress in Urbanizing Latin America(Boulder: Westview Press, 1998), 48.

[11] “New York, NY”. Map. Google Maps. Google, 5 May 2015. Web. 5 May 2015.

[12] “Population Density in 2010” map in Shan Carter and Aalan McLean Matthew Bloch, “Mapping the 2010 U.S. Census,” New York Times. 2010.

[13] Occupied and Vacant Units in 2010” map in ibid.

[14] Map of all university buildings in the Centro Beat:

map6

[15] The term kirchnerismo refers to a political affiliation and loyalty toward the current national government, headed by President Cristina Kirchner since 2007, who in turn succeeded her late husband, Néstor Kirchner, Argentina’s president from 2003 to 2007.

[16] Warren Carter, “Painting the Revolution,” Third Text 28, no. 3 (2014).

[17] Jane Jacobs, “Staging Difference: Aestheticization and the Politics of Difference in Contemporary Cities,” in Cities of Difference(New York: Guilford Press, 1998), 274.

[18] Gastón V., “La Construcción De La Hegemonía Kirchnerista En Argentina (2003-2007) / the Construction of Kirchnerist Hegemony in Argentina (2003-2007). ,” Temas Y Debates 28, no. 57 (2014).

[19] Vincent L. Montero A, “Del “Peronismo Impuro” Al “Kichnerismo Puro”: La Consturcción De Una Nueva Identidad Política Durante La Presidencia De Néstor Kirchner En Argentina (2003-2007),” Revista De Reflexión Y Análisis Político 18, no. 1 (2013).

[20] Daniel James, “October 17th and 18th, 1945: Mass Protest, Peronism, and the Argentine Working Class,” Journal of Social History 21, no. 3 (1998): 457.

[22]

Map 4: Income
Map 4: Population in Downtown Manhattan
map5
Map 5: Income in Downtown Manhattan

[23] “2013 Mayoral election vote & turnout for Bill de Blasio” The NYC Election Atlas. Center for Urban Research at Graduate Center at City University of New York. Web. 28 Apr. 2015