Most of the graffiti is actually very inclusive!
For most of this year, the second-floor SciLi carrels have been my study space of choice. They’re quieter than the lunch-with-your-friends-disguised-as-studying of first-floor SciLi, but allow for slightly more noise than in Olin, where I feel guilty for just unzipping my backpack. They have a good amount of natural light, and their cute little walls protect me from making eye contact with anyone else working there, so I can sink into the false sense of solitude that I so desperately need. But an added bonus is that many of the carrels have some *high quality* graffiti from all the students that have studied there before, providing ample entertainment and procrastination fodder. And for your reading privilege, I have compiled the highlights. Click below for some anxiety-fueled musings. (Please note that I take no responsibility for any misspellings, botched punctuation, or opinions. All errors belong to the authors themselves.)
Guys. This exists. The members of the class of 2017 and the class of 2018 might already know about this, because we posted about it back in 2014. Underclassmen, if you’ve felt paranormal vibrations in a certain building on the north side of campus (that got a dose of some anarchist graffiti yesterday), then we’ve got the story. Or P-Safe does.
Chalking was so 2013. Bold saboteurs took to the rear wall of South College over the past weekend to tag the words “Need Blind Now!” to the brownstones. The writing, which appeared Sunday morning, represents an escalation in casual chalking graffiti to spray paint, which is virtually non-existent on this campus; it also represents a break in the relative silence on campus around need-blind.
One passer-by reported the smiling face of Michael Roth, who called down from the president’s office window to the group of students discussing the graffiti underneath. He told them the University would “restore need blind as soon at it can.” Don’t hold your breath.
The administration did not have an official response to the graffiti, though it was promptly removed.
The contents of the following article contain offensive, derogatory language, and material that may be triggering for survivors of sexual assault. The names and some of the details in this article have been changed for privacy and legal concerns (but more about that last bit later).
Written in bold black sharpie, the phrase “She said stop, I said Hammer Time,” was one of the first things that Dan and I saw on move-in day. I was helping him load his things into the room he was renting at Wesleyan University’s Beta Theta Pi fraternity, where we both lived last summer, as tenants. This was not the only message left for Dan—writing covered almost every square foot of wall.
I had just moved into my own room earlier that sweltering afternoon in May, and I was already growing slightly unimpressed with the misogyny. I would be lying if I didn’t say that over the summer that I lived in Beta, the impact of the graffiti grew smaller and smaller, till it felt the way bathroom obscenity feels. Still, on move in day the abrasion wasn’t calloused over yet.
First, however, a few words on how I ended up living in Beta. I had originally planned on living in official universities dorms for the summer research session. Then I got an email saying that Beta would be offering housing for a third of the price: only $300 a month.
In addition to cheapness, there was the benefit that the house was big enough for nearly all my friends who were staying on for the summer. The house had a yard equipped with a charcoal grill, a huge living room where we could hold open mics, parties, etc, and a refrigerator big enough for twelve 30 racks of Miller—not to even mention the king-sized beer pong table. On top of it all, I had leased early enough to get my pick of the rooms. I ended up in the Beta president’s suite.
If you’re a graffiti extraordinaire, Adrian Nugent-Head ’15 wants to pick your brain. He’s looking for a graffiti artists for a short documentary. It’ll be very low key, and identities will be kept secret if you want… He just wants to learn a little bit about why you do what you do and where you do it!
If you fit the bill and are interested, contact Adrian at anugenthead (ta) wesleyan (tod) edu.
This distinctive electric purple stencil was noticed on a wall in Middletown by Illicit Exhibitions, a blog about street art, two weekends ago:
A giraffe skeleton? A horse? At any rate it’s probably no longer up, since the city’s police chief is pretty scrupulous about painting over graffiti.
What does it mean, and who’s the street artist behind it? Speculate here, or email illicitexhibitions@gmail if you’ve got information.
An anonymous student has created shadow wes, a blog that seeks to explore “the graffiti, tunnels, and various other cool locations on campus where you have never been.”
As a teaser, here’s a photo taken from the roof of the Science Tower.
See ya on the other side.
Since the recent Gay Soldiers: A Fetish Gone Too Far stencils seen around campus have provoked the wrath of Maria Cruz-Saco, how about a new kind of graffiti? Like…cleaning the grime off of shit?
A British street artist known as Moose creates graffiti by cleaning dirt from sidewalks and tunnels — sometimes for money when the images are used as advertising. But some authorities call it vandalism.
Boo, authorities. Granted, Wes doesn’t have that many places with that much caked-on crap, but I’d imagine that the technique could be utilized to interesting results in frat bathrooms.