As promised in the previous instalment, here’s the second part of my photo essay about Marseille’s street art.
Graffiti are, without a shadow of a doubt, the main actor on the stage that are the Panier’s walls. But it’d be wrong to limit one’s analysis only to them because there’s a lot more to see: namely, stencilled messages and manifests. The former, as I’ve learned in Italy and Turkey, can be quite political; the latter, instead, are usually more artistic or work as adverts for parties, shops or other events.
A whole building had been covered in wallpaper depicting black rubber ducks. I’m sure there’s a message here, just don’t know which one.
Doing this one mustn’t have been easy at all.
The tiny door on the right is the entrance of a print shop; the fish, one of their recurring subjects
A musical window. Sticked around the frame, unfortunately soaked in rain water, were the scores of what looked like popular folk songs.
Mister P is a T-shirt shop mocking the stereotypical image of Colonial France.
A strange Maori-Thai hybrid?
1950s Epic filmmaking meets techno, I’d guess.
Che Guevara vs German industry. Opel won.
Here and there one can find scribbled messages. I have my blog, Marsellais have their city’s walls, I presume.
One thing remains true, no matter the language, country or latitude: men don’t understand women.
We’re watching you.
Politics at work. Panier is fiercely leftist and pro-immigrants: this writing accuses Air France of cooperating in the deportation of sans papiers, illegal immigrants
…and finally. Love, Marseille.