cuba twick terms stan153 and bode
As seen in the Mission District, San Francisco.

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Twick ICP in Clarion Alley (part 1/4)
A few weekends ago I was involved with a well attended street art photowalk in the Mission District. Megan Wilson, of the Clarion Alley Mural project, had spoken at the walk and mentioned that despite their best efforts, the murals had done little to beat back the gentrification in the area. In the centre of a huge crowd of snapping photographers, some with very expensive gear, I felt like this wasn’t helping with the aforementioned gentrification.

greed1, who spoke later, talked about how street art was expression, a way of communicating with hundreds of people at a time without having to say a word. His optimistic take on the issue was that cities grow and change, and that public art was a vehicle for expression. Sometimes people started out sometimes with stuff as coarse as tagging, but moved on to finding their real medium for expression like painting or wheatpasting. Their driver was not caring how long their work lasts or recognition but just ‘putting it out there’.

I’d found myself wandering the Mission again the day after the photowalk and I stumbled across a hive of activity in Clarion Alley. The day before probably hundreds of pictures of the murals were taken, and now, a day later, many were already gone, painted over by groups of artists. Near the centre of the alley, one piece grabbed my attention - the huge face of a big cat, being painstakingly rendered by one individual. I walked over for a chat.

“Hey, how’s it going? Looks like a great piece… have you been doing this for long?”

“Since ‘83, man. You might have seen some of my stuff around - I’m Twick ICP.”

“No way - all those colourful animal and Mayan murals around town?”

“That’s me!”

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Twick ICP in Clarion Alley (part 2/4)
At that point I’d realised I’d run into a San Francisco art identity - Francisco ‘Twick’ Aquino, of the Inner City Phame crew. Twick has been involved in graffiti in San Francisco nearly as long as anyone in the area, and has been a participant in the evolution of graffiti as a form of expression. Twick, today, was by himself, doing what he loves.

“So can you tell me a bit about this piece? What does it mean to you?”

“Well, you ever heard Grandmaster Flash and The Message? ‘It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder how I keep from going under’. Well, we live in a concrete jungle, and that’s what this is about. It’s got a different texture to a real jungle but it’s still a jungle.”

“Yeah - life can get a bit intense. So can you tell me a bit more about how you got started?”

“I started out growing up in a gang environment in the 80s with and I had influences like XIV and SFM. I got exposed to the Cholo/Chicano style of writing, and I wanted to imitate the gang hieroglyph. One day hip-hop found me, gave me direction and I never looked back.”

“Can you say a bit more about how your work evolved?”

“It doesn’t just have to be tagging, writing your name. Art can be about writing a message, and it’s a powerful tool.”

Twick steps back to regard the last few strokes of paint, and he tells me about the spirituality of his work.

“I have Mayan and Aztec ancestors, and they speak to me through my blood. I think of myself as a modern-day Mayan, and the streets and their walls are my temple.”

“Very cool.”

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