The longtime graffiti artist is busy working on several different projects. It took him a week to find a spare hour to talk with me.

Figueroa, also known by his nome de can Gonzo247, runs Aerosol Warfare. It’s a small art gallery dedicated to graffiti. Or, it used to be.

“We used to be more full-blast actual gallery space,” he said. “We’d have an exhibition every month.”

Figueroa says he’s happy with the state of Houston’s art scene and its ability to carry on graffiti artwork.

“Other people tapped into graffiti and the galleries are doing shows,” he said. “I don’t feel like I have that weight on me anymore like I have to put a show together every month to keep it alive.

“I now enjoy the pace of just keeping up with my commission pieces.”

Life in a Can

Aerosol Warfare lives in a small shopping island in downtown Houston, next to I-45. It doesn’t look like much from the outside.

Get inside, though, and you see the walls covered in Figueroa’s artwork. He’s doing a series of paintings about giving birth to an idea. A small fetus thing appears against a series of colorful backdrops.

Figueroa shows me around. The place is covered in spray paint cans, mats, stencils and bags of caps. He collects his caps in plastic bags for posterity and use in later projects.

One of those projects hangs around Figueroa’s neck. He strung a dozen old spray paint caps covered in paint into a necklace. It’s patented.

He rolls out a wheelchair for me to sit in and takes the lower-quality one. Figueroa generously offers me a beer, opening it with the edge of a spray paint can.

He sticks to a Red Bull.

“I’d drink one [beer] with you, but I’m on an hour and a half sleep,” he laughs. “I’d probably pass out.”

These days, Figueroa is busy with his own work. He does his own projects, as well as commissions from private clients.

He’ll even run an exhibit at Free Press Summer Fest. He plans to paint several clear plexiglass walls in reverse so viewers can see the drawing from the other side.

Figueroa mainly does commissions like these. After spending so many years as a gallery owner, he prefers to do his own work.

“I think right now I’m enjoying myself doing what I do,” he said. “A big part of who I was with Aerosol Warfare in the long history that we’ve had… was the need to create some super crazy exhibits and really show Houston what graffiti is all about.”

The Point of It All

What is graffiti all about?

“It’s funny because you ask 100 different graffiti writers what it’s all about, you’re gonna get 100 different answers,” Figueroa told me. “The baseline root of what graffiti’s all about is being able to proclaim that you exist.”

He said graffiti gives kids a way to own something, to have an identity through ownership of a bit of brick or wood or metal.

“You drive down the street, down the freeway, and you see all these billboards and these companies and they’re shoving their message down your throat,” Figueroa said.

“So you get this kid with a can of paint that costs 99 cents. He climbs the billboard and puts his name on it. He has the same amount of voice for a dollar. Whether you like it or not, it’s there.”

Figueroa understands the power of illegal graffiti, of painting a message where it’s not supposed to be.

“When you’re out in the street, that’s for real,” he said. “You gotta bring your A-game, because when you leave all you’re gonna leave behind is the art.

“That’s what people judge you by. They don’t know you had to climb a billboard. They don’t know there was no light. They don’t know there was a bum peeing next to you. They don’t know you got chased by the dogs.

“All they’re gonna know is what you left behind, so you gotta make sure it’s the best you can produce.”

By: DL Haydon

Photo by DL Haydon

Remüv ‘‘Hate!’’

Houstonians love, loathe and overanalyze the hell out of those nine letters. They were painted last year on the railroad bridge over I-45 and created endless debate on what is or isn’t objectively good street art. But according to the graffiti artist, he simply wanted to take a gallon of paint, spread it a dozen feet high, get someone’s attention and hopefully, make their day.

Remüv (not his official handle) met me in a Montrose café last month to throw light on the piece. Not to give away too much (we agreed to anonymity after all), but he’s a Houstonian with the look of a graffiti artist. Or a graffiti artist who pursues life as a Houstonian, depending on your perspective. Remüv has a day job, a significant other and an infant daughter. As I sipped coffee, he drank iced tea and ate a Cajun style burrito stuffed with jambalaya–which he referred to as lunch and dinner.

The most demanding question I had, aside from why a graffiti artist felt the need to hover over hellacious traffic, was how he did it. The only access to the bridge is up steep, bramble-covered concrete. Shaky metal grates and a thin chain are the “walkway” on the bridge until the halfway point, where they disappear.

“So there’s the top of the bridge, and then here are the train tracks,” Remüv said, motioning his hands to illustrate the foot-long gap which dropped straight down to I-45. “And I’m on the train tracks with my body standing over, my roller hanging down.”

As he stood over the gap, he said, one thing went through his mind: Trains.

“A couple came, too. You have to watch out for the conductors. They’re not going to stop the train for you. That’s not their job. A good Samaritan will call the cops. One phone call to HPD can really get me in a bind, but you’ve just got to get under the tracks and they’ll never see you.”

And they didn’t. As for what motivated Remüv, he told me that a rut of depression left him with a need to go into the city and leave something that would be an opposite expression.

“An expression that can do some good maybe. And a year later, it did,” he said. “It got a lot of people’s attention. In the street art community, I get sass because of this and that, but the thing about street art politics is it’s just that: politics. The people who see [the piece] day to day–who really aren’t involved in graffiti–they notice it: your high school teen, or the lawyer who’s having a bad day. Even Slim Thug gave me a commend [sic]. It brought the city together, you could say. There was an outcry, which ended up good.”

The outcry (outside the street art community) ranged from posts on Houston forums, social media and of course, the Houston Press, which ran a story titled: “REMÜV: Latest Contender For Houston’s Lamest Graffiti ‘Artist’ “. Apparently use of the umlaut (dotted U) simply killed the writer. We can only hope. Though Remüv was offended for a different reason.

“ZZ top. Screw me–she (the writer) bashed ZZ Top on the day of their 15th studio released album,” he said. “Do you KNOW what city you’re in?”

Incidentally, HP went so far as to compare Remüv to that one moron who defaced the Picasso piece in the Menil Collection last year, as well as incorrectly attributing the “BE SOMEONE” piece (same bridge, other side) to Remüv.

“BE SOMEONE is actually by a guy from the south side. I don’t have any connection to him whatsoever,” Remüv said.

“I’m glad we can get that out there,” I  said. “Everyone thinks it’s you.”

“Yeah. They think my name is ‘Remüv Hate’,” he said. “I did a mural, just to specify, in the northside about four months ago.”

When not dangling off a railroad bridge, Remüv said he picks buildings appropriately.

“No live businesses,” he said. “No federal, no religious. I like buildings that are old. Old and in need of color. They’ve usually been abandoned for several years if not more.”

An additional tactic Remüv favors is tipping the Y-axis.

“I don’t like painting on the ground-level. It’s either above or below the driver’s eye. It gives you a lot more time. And in the instance where you’re on top of a 13-story building that’s been abandoned for 20 years, you’re looking down at the city, and realize that you may be the only person who has seen that view in some time. It’s therapeutic almost.”

Near the end of the coffee, tea and burrito I asked if Remüv thought there were any major misconceptions the public had of street artists.

“I think people simplify it too much: the idea that people paint. In reality, it’s a society. These street artists, graffiti artists, are expressing themselves in their purest form. It’s putting their heart and soul into what they can. I think people miss that reason a lot, or miss the idea that there is a reason. A lot of times it’s the feat that’s more important than the outcome. Climbing the mountain instead of claiming it.”

And that’s the point: Remüv climbed the bridge to communicate via graffiti. Not to paint a picture for no reason. Street art pretty for the sake of being pretty tends to suck anyway, especially when it doesn’t match the urban industrial surroundings that are Houston. Remüv’s letters blend in. They’re ugly gorgeous, just like the city.

“Graffiti saved my life, but right now I live for my daughter,” Remüv said. “It’s something I want to transfer to her–the understanding that if you want to do something in this day, and age, and this country: you can. If you need proof, it’s written up high in big, juicy letters.”

This article ran in the December 2024 edition of FPH.

By Will Guess
Images courtesy of Eyesore

XXXXXXXX, better known as the street artist Eyesore, has been coloring the city of Houston with his drawings for over 10 years. In the art world, graffiti and street art is like the kid who didn’t pay attention in class, the one who never followed the rules, the one who made up their own rules instead. As far as prominent people in the Houston graffiti scene, Eyesore is one of the most well-respected artists in the city.  His drawings involve extremely intricate and detailed lines, making it hard not to take a second glance when you see one of his pieces pasted up somewhere around town. Hell, he even took time out of his busy schedule to do the cover art for this very issue.  FPH got the rare privilege enough to sit down with Eyesore to talk about his creative process, what makes street art relevant, and his purpose.

Walk me through your creative process.
I am inspired by the beauty of my friends and family, but also by the people that have changed my way of thinking like authors, artists, and musicians. They deserve to be acknowledged and not forgotten. It’s my way of communicating the things I have learned and think are relevant within the community. I also draw nature and animals and the frailty of life [to show how] intricate and amazing this life we have is and that these are the important and serious aspects of my craft.  On the other hand, there are the less serious influences with vintage monster comics, Halloween, ‘90s underground death metal, horror movies, and early graffiti and art culture. These were the things I was into growing up, and I thought it would be fun to mash them all together and see what people got out of them when I put them up. Some of these drawings take hours or days to complete. Once I am satisfied with the image, I burn it to a screen and print it on whatever I can find–stickers, posters, shirts, and found objects. Then I send them out into the world for people to enjoy or hate.

What sets you apart from other street artists?
I am very proud of Houston’s street art and graffiti culture, past and present. There are so many diverse styles coming from all sorts of backgrounds, and I am just glad to be a part of it.   Give Up, Failure, Chicken Boy, Gonzo, Fukitol, Yar!, VERBS/MEAT, JEWS, JADE, VIZIE, NEKST, and the rest of DTS/GY. In the beginning, these artists just amazed me with their talent and determination for getting up. I truly believe they changed the way Houston thought about graffiti and street art for the better. Today’s street art and graffiti is just as amazing: ACK!, DUAL, ETOMS, Cutthroat, WEAH, Wiley, and 2:12 are all completely original and different in their own ways, and getting to know and work with them is always fun. We all have our own styles, but mine is all drawing and illustration-based. I have loved to draw for as long as I can remember and it’s the medium I feel most comfortable with getting up. The silk screening is the most effective way to transfer my drawings to paper and stickers, then apply them to the streets.

Why is street art relevant?
All art enriches communities and brings color, life, and culture to our city. It’s connected to the people who live there, and it is a unique part of OUR home. My only wish is that it helps inspire creativity and thought. I have met so many great people through what we do that I wouldn’t have met otherwise, and their support and encouragement makes street art relevant.

For you personally, what is the intrinsic value or purpose of putting up art illegally?
I just like adding my images to the city. I don’t worry about the legal issues of what I do. I truly believe that what I am doing is having more of a positive effect on everything.

What emotions, if any, are you trying to provoke when people see your art?
I hope they have a positive reaction. I am not trying to ruin anyone’s day. I guess I’m trying to change their perception of advertising versus graffiti and street art or history versus gentrification. We can’t move forward culturally if we are constantly erasing the past. What is an eyesore to the people of Houston?

Free Press Houston was saddened to learn of the passing of NEKST, one of Houston’s more well known artists and a prolific graffiti writer worldwide. His work has appeared across the map, from Australia to Los Angeles, and is defined by its savage style, brash use of color, and sheer bravado of the high-profile spots he chose to tag. To celebrate his life we scoured the internet for remembrances of the artist.

To get a full scope of NEKST’s art, Juxtapoz has put together 100 photos documenting his work, and there’s an ripnekst tag on Instagram with dedications for the artist.