STRAAT: Confronting the paradox of a ‘Street Art Museum’.

The shipyard warehouses of NDSM-werf have, roughly until the early noughties, stood as a steadfast defender of alternative culture, acting as a sanctuary for those that value freedom of expression. What was once a huge ship manufacturing plant in the 1980s, quickly became a place for squatters and artists who sought refuge from the swarms of tourists and politie in Amsterdam centrum. After the closure of Nederlandsche Dok en Scheepsbouw Maatschap in 1984, the rich network of Amsterdam’s street artists quickly reclaimed the area. They began converting NDSM into an industrial and inventive centre for the city’s creative underbelly. However, as is so often the case with places of raw artistic authenticity, eventually government bodies and corporations come knocking with their cutthroat capitalist agenda fuelled by a dogmatic pursuit of profit.

In 1999, the local government embarked on a program of ‘urban regeneration’ that aimed to turn the artistry pervading NDSM into a taxable asset. The newest edition to the growing commerce in the region is the expertly curated STRAAT Museum located in the Lasloods. In principle, an organisation such as STRAAT that seeks to showcase the talents and bolster the names of the world’s best street artists is a welcome addition to the city’s creative scene. In its execution however, a few questions remain unanswered as to how exactly artists are suitably compensated and how STRAAT honours the original spirit of street art as an accessible art form for all.   

Can you have a Museum for Street Art?
STRAAT is more than aware of the paradox that surrounds the concept of a street art museum. Their latest feature exhibit entitled ‘Quote from The Streets’ confronts the following crucial questions: Is it possible to have street art exhibited on a canvas? And isn’t street art meant to eventually fade away into the urban landscape?

Certainly the artists that feature within the ‘Quote from The Streets’ exhibit are street artists of the highest calibre. Renowned and much beloved artists like Amsterdam’s own Street Art Frankey, OX Alien and Mr June all showcase their signature works alongside texts that explain the inspiration and history behind both the artists and their creations. The quality of STRAAT as a museum is not up for debate. It is clear upon first glance that the curation of the artwork has been done by an expert team who are aware of the juggernauts of both the Dutch and the international street art community.

In an interview with Het Parool, STRAAT executive curator David Roos defended the paradox inherent in the term ‘Street Art Museum’, stating:
“We often get that question, and we have regularly asked ourselves this. But the artists who have come to us to create their work over the past five years have also shared their stories with us. We tell the story behind the making of art, which you don’t see on the street.”

However, STRAAT does not provide any public information as to how these artists have been compensated or commissioned for their work. Do STRAAT share the proceeds that they reap from the work of others or do they sell the same dream of exposure that freelance artists already know all too well? While researching this issue I asked a representative of STRAAT to comment on the all-important issue of funding artistic endeavours.

How is the museum supported and funded?
“STRAAT is a private museum. At the moment, we don’t receive subsidies, we run entirely at our own expense”.

When was the museum founded and what was the thinking behind it?
“The idea to create STRAAT was established 5 years ago. STRAAT gives context to graffiti and street art. STRAAT introduces the public to this legit art form and informs and inspires the public by telling the stories of the artists”.

How do you respond to the paradox of a street art museum? Is the goal of STRAAT to preserve artwork that would eventually fade into the urban landscape?
“STRAAT brings the outside in. We do this to give street art a stage and to conserve the artworks. By giving context to street art and graffiti and by sharing the stories of the artists, we create more awareness around the art form. The artists had no restrictions and all the freedom to create the works, the collection represents the same diversity as you can stumble upon the streets. It gives us the opportunity to conserve the artworks and to collect the work of street artists from all over the world together under the same roof”.

How do you try to support the artists you showcase, is there financial compensation?
“It is our goal to financially support the artists and take care of the works of our collection”.

Whilst these are clearly honest and reasonable answers to complex questions, it does not clear up what STRAAT is doing to help the wider culture outside of the select few artists who feature on the walls of the Lasloods. Afterall, shouldn’t the purpose of a museum be to preserve and promote the cultures that it exhibits, not to make a profit?

Should we have a museum for Street Art?
In order to clear up the moral fog surrounding the concept of a street art museum, I feel it is essential to assess the history of how street art is supposed to be exhibited. We also need to explore the differences between graffiti and street art, highlighting the best way to honour each respective culture. With a quick glance of the STRAAT website, you will notice that they themselves raise the question “How essential is the illegal component to this art form?”. Well, the answer is: not very. At least, that is the case for the practice of street art. For graffiti artists on the other hand, the story is entirely different.

Artists such as Banksy and Eduardo Kobra  have conflated the public perception and warped the historical distinctions between graffiti and street art, blurring the two separate artforms into one anarchic activity. Yet, the difference of their respective cultures and histories requires different approaches with regard to the question if they should ever be showcased in a for-profit museum. A graffiti writer friend of mine (who for obvious reasons would like to remain anonymous) summarised the polarity between street art and graffiti in the following eloquent way:

“The life of a graffiti artist and that of a street artist could not be more different. We spend three sleepless days travelling from country to country, using the last of our money and energy for graffiti, without ever expecting to earn a single euro from it. There are only a few graffiti writers in existence that are also sick street artists who can sell the same product that they put on streets, trains, or metros. I think it’s okay to put street art in a museum and make money off it, but when you claim the culture and you don’t put in the work that writers put in or fail to help us, then you are claiming something that you categorically aren’t”.   

What does this mean in the context of STRAAT? Essentially, there is nothing wrong with claiming street art and normalising it as a ‘higher’ art form because the artists that create it could just as easily exhibit at the MOCO someday. However, below the select few artists that STRAAT exhibits there is a whole community of writers, graffiti artists, bombers, and taggers who still live the very real, the very illegal, and the very demonised life that street art originated from. Yet, they do not have the luxury of being deemed by the public as ‘artists’. You cannot praise street art whilst keeping quiet on the frequent demonisation of graffiti. Until both are supported by institutions seeking to make a profit from the wild west culture that pervades both artforms, you cannot claim to be doing justice to the artists that make them.

Many people will complain that graffiti is a plague to a city, one deserving of federal punishment or community service without realising the familial connection to street art. The same individuals will then eagerly pay 15 euro a piece to see the new trendy street artists in a museum. In essence, this is the paradox of STRAAT and the core issue that they will have to keep in mind as their popularity undoubtedly increases as street art continues to garner international appeal. This is by no means a negative review of STRAAT because I assure you that the experience of going to this museum is incredible and one I would genuinely recommend to friends.

However, I do fear that continued neglect of all parts of the culture and a lack of support for the rest of the community will result in us getting left behind as street art moves into the limelight. It does not seem fair that a graffiti tagger will be prosecuted for painting in Amsterdam when across the IJ there is a for profit museum that heralds the exploits of street artists. If STRAAT would take itself and its appreciation of street art and graffiti seriously, they would address this problem and try to do something about it. It would go a long way in resolving the paradox of a ‘street art museum’.