graffiti

CONAKRY, Guinea — It was the middle of the day when Omar Diaw, known by his artist name “Chimere” — French for chimera — approached a blank wall off the main thoroughfare in Guinea’s capital and started spray-painting.

“They know who I am,” he said confidently. Though it wasn’t clear who ”they” were, civilians and police didn’t bat an eye as Diaw’s fellow artists unloaded dozens of paint cans onto the roadside in Conakry.

Graffiti has thrived for years in Diaw’s native Senegal, where the modern urban street art first took off in West Africa. But when he moved to Guinea in 2018 to explore a new place, he said such art was nearly nonexistent.

“It was thought that graffiti was vandalism,” he said.

To win over the public, Diaw took a gentle approach, using graffiti for public awareness campaigns. One of his first was to raise awareness about COVID-19 preventive measures.

“We had to seduce the population,” he said.

The port city of Conakry faces rapid urbanization. Diaw’s graffiti has become an undeniable part of its crowded, concrete-heavy landscape.

His larger-than-life images of famous Guinean musicians and African independence leaders now dwarf the overloaded trucks that drive by. Drying laundry hung over the portrait of the West African resistance fighter Samory Toure.

The tag of Diaw’s graffiti collective, Guinea Ghetto Graff, is on murals all over the city.

Graffiti as it’s known today began in the 1960s and ’70s in the United States. It arrived in West Africa via Dakar, Senegal, in 1988, when the region’s first graffiti artist, Amadou Lamine Ngom, started painting on the city’s walls.

Known by his artist name, “Docta,” Ngom and a group of fellow artists were commissioned the following year to paint murals for an awareness campaign aimed at cleaning up Dakar’s streets.

Ngom, 51, said that at the beginning, aside from such campaigns, he did graffiti mostly at night. He later changed his approach.

“I decided to do it in broad daylight,” he said. “So as not to copy what’s happening in the United States, Europe or elsewhere. To create graffiti that resembles the African reality, taking into account our reality, our values.”

Ngom, who later mentored the teenage Diaw, said communities grew to respect the public artwork since it reflected their lives and experiences.

With the public’s backing, “the authorities didn’t have a choice,” Ngom said.

These days, graffiti has grown more assertive in Senegal, becoming part of the political messaging around antigovernment protests. In Guinea, Diaw’s graffiti has addressed issues such as migration.

Diaw said Conakry’s governor supports much of his work and has given him carte blanche to do it wherever he wants.

As his latest work beside the thoroughfare took shape, passersby began to stop and admire the portrait of Guinea’s military leader, Gen. Mamadi Doumbouya, who took power in a 2021 coup.

A 22-year-old driver, Ousmane Sylla, said he was familiar with Diaw’s gigantic paintings near Conakry’s airport.

“It reminds us of old Guinean musicians. It reminds us of history,” he said. “Graffiti is good for Africa, it’s good for this country, it’s good for everyone. I like it, and it changed the face of our city.”

The next step might be bringing in a wider range of artists.

“I would really like to see more women become a part of this, because they say that [graffiti] is for men,” said Mama Aissata Camara, a rare female artist on Guinea’s graffiti scene.

Risemberg writes for the Associated Press.

Less than a day after city workers painted the 2nd Street Tunnel, long an L.A. graffiti haven, taggers covered the walls of the iconic tunnel again, according to an Instagram post.

Video footage posted by user @grafftv appeared to show people spray-painting new graffiti on top of blank walls as motorists drove by.

“Less than 24 hours after the 2nd Street tunnel in downtown Los Angeles was painted a sterile white for the first time in over six months, the city’s graffiti underground roared back to life,” the user posted. “What had been a clean slate at noon became by midnight a living gallery of street expression, filled with burners, rollers, and painted signatures from L.A.’s most well known vandals.”

City officials did not immediately respond to an inquiry about whether or when they would repaint the walls of the tunnel, which was finished in 1924 and runs from South Figueroa Street to Hill Street.

The 1,500-foot white-tiled tunnel is an L.A. landmark, featured in Hollywood movies such as the sci-fi epic “Blade Runner” and the biographical drama “The Soloist.” It is also a popular location for car commercials, with more than 70 shot there between 2006 and 2009.

Weathered and bumpy, the wall hidden among the surplus clothing stores of the Fashion District was hardly the perfect canvas.

But artist Sloe Motions’ vision for the memorial mural in honor of Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna following their deaths in 2020 brought the stretch of Main and 14th streets to life with vibrant hues of purple and gold.

One of the most well-known Kobe murals across Southern California, the art piece — outside Jimmy Jam T-Shirts — was the backdrop for a commercial for Super Bowl LVI featuring Vanessa Bryant and has drawn fans from near and far.

For years, the mural remained untouched — an unspoken mark of respect for the artist and the subject but one that abruptly ended this year.

In late March, someone tagged the artwork with large bubble letters outlined in black and filled in with white — a similar style to other street tagging visible across the city.

Sloe Motions went back to work, painstakingly restoring the mural. There was much fanfare in downtown when the new mural made its debut in late May. But within a few days, it was again defaced. The artist is disappointed but vows to restore it once again — this time in a new location.

“This one has a lot of meaning to it, so it hurts me that people would do something like this where they’re disrespecting the Bryant family. It just exposes these people’s demons,” Sloe Motions said.

Graffiti has long been an element of Los Angeles life, and residents of downtown are used to tags as part of the landscape. This is, after all, the place where taggers coated the unfinished Oceanwide Plaza high-rise complex with graffiti, generating international attention and debate about the line between art and vandalism.

But the treatment of the Kobe tribute surprised Sloe Motions.

“This isn’t just another Kobe mural. It’s a memorial,” he said.

Street art has long been a part of the culture of Los Angeles, where murals — sanctioned and unsanctioned — and graffiti harmoniously share canvas space. Some abide by the unwritten code that you don’t cover someone else’s art. Others take a more autonomous approach, creating what they want where they want.

“Great cities have great public art,” said Wyland, a Laguna Beach-based artist who has painted murals across the world. “This Kobe mural, it’s become part of the fabric of Los Angeles. And for someone to come in and destroy it like that doesn’t make any sense.”

Los Angeles is known as a city of murals — some of which remain respectfully untouched for years, while others like the Kobe memorial are a seemingly irresistible target for taggers. There was a time when some property owners believed hiring the right muralist to grace your walls — or including a portrait of the Virgen de Guadalupe — could keep taggers away. But not anymore.

In many ways downtown Los Angeles is the perfect gallery for viewing street art, turning nondescript buildings into colorful canvases that tell the story of the region.

Ife Ewing, co-owner of Jimmy Jam T-Shirts, says street art has changed in the 13 years her business has been housed on Main Street.

James Ewing, co-owner of Jimmy Jam T-Shirts, looks at a mural Wednesday of Kobe and Gianna Bryant that has been vandalized again on the side of the business at 14th and Main streets.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

“Before, it was isolated to designated areas,” she said. “It’s a different breed of artists now. They have no respect for business owners, property owners. It’s disrespectful. You have to call it what it is, it’s just disrespect.”

Sloe Motions is far from the only muralist to feel burned.

Judy Baca’s famed mural of a female Olympic runner is beloved, even though it has been hit by taggers in the past. Then in 2019, the mural — part of the 1984 Olympics art movement — was mysterious whitewashed, sparking outrage. Metro eventually admitted one of its graffiti abatement contractors had covered the mural and vowed to restore it.

“They would rather paint on the mural than see even a mark of graffiti on the mural,” Baca said at the time.

The latest vandalism to Bryant’s mural felt like another blow to the area.

A post on June 3 from the DTLA Insider Instagram account summed up the situation simply: “We really can’t have nice things.”

The mural image is a spin on a photograph capturing a sweet moment during the 2008 NBA Finals when the Lakers legend — a proud “girl dad” — leans down and kisses the side of his smiling toddler’s head as he cradles her in his arm during a news conference.

Sloe Motions was drawn to the emotion in the photograph — the purity of a father’s love and a daughter’s admiration for her hero. It was captured years before Gigi started playing basketball, showing off her own version of her dad’s envied fadeaway jumper.

Next to them, the words “Mambas Forever” with an infinity symbol are painted in purple and gold.

Bryant, 41, and 13-year-old Gigi, along with seven others — John Altobelli, 56; Keri Altobelli, 46; Alyssa Altobelli, 13; Christina Mauser, 38, Sarah Chester, 45; Payton Chester, 13; and pilot Ara Zobayan, 50 — died Jan. 26, 2020, when the helicopter Zobayan was flying crashed in the hills of Calabasas.

After the initial vandalism in late March, Sloe Motions had sought donations to help cover the cost of restoring the mural in the current location, hoping to preserve the spot for the Bryant family.

“There’s just a lot of meaning at that wall,” he said.

Lakers star Luka Doncic’s foundation quickly jumped into action, donating $5,000, the full amount needed, to a fundraiser to help restore the art piece.

In late May, Sloe Motions posted on Instagram that the mural was finally finished. He’d added a few additional touches, painting the No. 8 on Gigi’s jersey, an homage to the number that Kobe wore for the first 10 seasons of his career.

A week later, the new details were still visible but under the scrawl of white paint.

On June 4, television news cameras were positioned near the mural, and passersby stopped to assess the damage. A jumble of bright white paint cut across the image, and heavy white dots covered Kobe’s and Gigi’s eyes.

“This time, they really went heavy,” Sergio Bautista, 35, said as he stood in front of the mural. “It’s sad to see.”

Sky Hendrix, who was in the area filming a music video with a friend, expressed his disbelief.

“That’s disrespecting the dead,” Hendrix said as he took in the scene. “Who would do that? He’s the GOAT and she’s just a little girl.”

Despite the vandalism, Sloe Motions showed no real sign of anger as he talked about the future of the art piece somewhere else where more people could view and appreciate it. He said he sent “prayers” to the people who vandalized his work.

“Nothing’s forever, and that’s the beauty of this stuff,” Sloe Motions said. “Some stuff could last a minute, some stuff could last a day, some stuff could last years.”

Times photographer Genaro Molina contributed to this report.

Lloyd Lake, the San Diego man at the center of the Reggie Bush extra benefits saga, scored a major legal victory this week over the former USC running back after a Van Nuys judge upheld an arbitrator’s decision to award Lake nearly $1.4 million in his defamation suit against Bush.

Lake filed the suit against Bush back in February 2023 — along with his parents, Roy and Barbara Gunner — alleging that Bush publicly disparaged and defamed him during a podcast appearance and in social media posts and, as such, violated the non-disparagement clause they agreed upon in a previous settlement. The comments, according to Lake and his parents’ complaint, “created a firestorm of vitriol” that saw the Gunner home vandalized with graffiti and left them fearing for their safety.

The judge’s decision this week came more than 15 years after the first explosive lawsuit between the two men was settled. That suit, which Lake first filed in 2007, claimed that he and another businessman, Michael Michaels, had provided Bush and his family with cash, a car, rent-free use of a house and other gifts while he played at USC in 2004 and 2005 with the expectation Bush would sign with Lake and his fledgling sports management company, New Era Sports & Entertainment.

The first case was settled in April 2010, just before Bush and Michaels were scheduled to be deposed. But Lake’s account of their arrangement, which violated NCAA rules, had already prompted a firestorm, one that ultimately ended in severe sanctions for USC’s football program, the vacating of the Trojans’ 2004 national title and the return of Bush’s Heisman Trophy.

As college athletes were allowed to receive compensation for use of their name, image and likeness and public opinion began shifting toward Bush, the legendary Trojan running back began sharing more about his experience and the saga that would come to define him. In an appearance on the “I Am Athlete” podcast, Bush opened up about the emotional toll the case and losing his Heisman Trophy took on him and his family. Bush eventually succeeded in having the Heisman returned to him in 2024.

Neither of the two men had spoken publicly about the other in more than a decade, abiding by the non-disparagement agreement in their 2010 settlement. At the time of that agreement, all parties involved — including Bush’s mother and stepfather — agreed to “not make any statements or representations to any person that may cast another Party to this Agreement in an unfavorable light, that are offensive to or disparage them, or that could adversely affect their name and reputation.”

But during the 2022 podcast interview, Bush went on to accuse Lake of blackmail and exaggerate Lake’s criminal record, which he said was “as long as the Cheesecake Factory menu.” Months later, in a Twitter post, Bush falsely accused Lake of being a convicted rapist.

The same week the podcast was published, the Gunners’ home was vandalized with graffiti. The threatening message left behind, written in red spray paint on an outside wall, read: “Help Reggie Bush Get His Trophy Back F— Crook.” The number “187” was also spray painted on the wall, which the plaintiff attorneys say referred to the state penal code number for murder. They blamed the graffiti on “unknown bad actors” working “on behalf of or at the direction of Bush.”

Lake’s attorneys first sought to bring the case to a jury trial. But a judge ruled in June 2024, that Lake’s lawsuit against Bush would go to binding, confidential arbitration, per the terms of their original settlement.

The arbitrator in the case, Jeffrey G. Benz, ultimately ruled in Lake’s favor, awarding him $500,000, as well as $764,640 in attorneys’ fees and $116,780 in other costs, according to court documents. Still, Bush’s attorneys continued to challenge the ruling by arguing that Benz had exceeded his authority as the arbitrator.

Their latest challenge was quashed this week by Van Nuys Superior Court Judge Eric Harmon, who took only a few hours to reaffirm the arbitrator’s decision.

But Bush and his legal team succeeded, in one respect: Bush’s responses to Lake’s petition, as well as other supporting exhibits and documents pertaining to Bush’s side of the case, remain under seal or heavily redacted.