From the narrow doorways of East Village walk-ups to stop signs in NoHo, to lonely walls in post-industrial Brooklyn, Peru Ana Ana Peru is everywhere. Over the past couple years, it feels like their tags and posters have multiplied exponentially across the New York City streetscape. From the duo’s beginnings as humble taggers, their work has recently developed a more elaborate, colorful and provocative style. COOL’EH interviewed the duo, to try and find out about the people behind the art.
Can you introduce yourself?
Greetings.
We are Peru Ana Ana Peru. We are a man and a woman, or, if you will, a woman and a man, and we live in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Currently the bulk of our time is spent on attempting to gradually work our name into the collective unconscious of New York City, then the World, so as to facilitate our plan for Global Domination. We also enjoy toasting insects underneath a magnifying lens, kind of had a role in founding the whole 'Scientology' thing, and eat raw meat three times a week, and we like it.
When was Peru Ana Ana Peru born? And where?
Peru Ana Ana Peru was born as the result of an experiment gone wrong over 600 years ago in 1319, on the oft forgotten, but all to important, Isle of Wight. It was near a small road that led to the towne of Cowes that, while searching for an elixir to cure his mum's and his friend's mum's shivers, Duke Stanley Bannum accidentally mixed Fraffing-Syre with Comoldor Spring, and as a result created a bacteria that quickly grew and spread everywhere, across every corner of the earth. The name of the bacteria was later found to be 2-(5-bromo-2-pyridylazo)-5-diethylaminophenol (5-Br-PAAP), or PAAP for short, and was found to have only one purpose: to spread itself. It sounds strange, but it's true.
Tell me what's the meaning of your name?
We are often asked if we have any relation to Peru, the country. The reason for this is obvious, and understandable. However, our ties to the actual country are mostly conceptual. As for the meaning of our name, we'd much rather leave it open to interpretation, or perhaps urban hearsay. How and when did you start doing street art?
Our foray into street art happened quite haphazardly, as suddenly one day we just found ourselves doing it, and then, once we did it, we figured, well, we might as well just continue to do it, so we did. And so we do.
Is it important for you that street art is illegal? Would you still want to do it if it wasn’t?
There is an obvious attraction to the illegality of street art and graffiti. There is a romance to it, an excitement. We would hesitate to say, however, that it is 'important' for us that it is illegal, as we would most definitely still do it if it were not. We've developed a respect for the idea of the public art piece, and intend on exploring this idea in depth in the future, regardless of whether we are allowed to or not.
Do you think that what you doing is a crime?
It's like anything else, it would seem, sometimes yes, and sometimes no.
Is there a relation between your street art and your moving pictures?
The two are related only as far as having been made by the same people. We would hesitate to say that we make our films in relation to our artwork, or vice versa. We would say, however, that a very similar work ethic is employed in both. That is to say, we make our art the way we make our films; we use the same attitudes and approaches and draw on the same influences.
How did you get into Godard?
Many years ago, while searching for styles and ideas from the past that moved something inside of us, we found Godard (amongst others) to, in a sense, be screaming from the top of his lungs while the majority of people were merely whispering. We found his boldness to be extremely refreshing, and his audacity, or what some might deem as irreverence, has always attracted us and inspired a way of looking at art in general, or at filmmaking in specific. But perhaps it was his personal battles with and his opinions on the workings of the Studio System, the Film Industry, that we felt our closest connection with him. One of the notions that is central to the way that we view the making of a film as a piece of work, as a piece of art, is the credo "Film does not equal cinema." This statement comes from a long held belief of ours that there should be a distinction between what we see as films, and what we would call cinema. It is merely a distinction we are choosing to make between the two words. This would be similar to choosing to make the distinction between 'fast food' and 'gourmet,' or 'pop music' and 'Stravinsky.' We have many thoughts on this topic, and as such we feel it best to simply insert a 'manifesto' that we have already written:
It is our belief that the current state of things, which is to say of [American?] Cinema—of what it is, of what it has become—is in shambles, that of a deformed being, with its skin all bumpy-bruised and bleeding, stubbly and prickly and purpleblack-like and disgusting. This, it must be said, is merely the result of a series of countless beatings and other brutalities that have been brought against it by a conglomeration of thugs and money-men who have stolen it out from under our feet, and who have proceeded to pound the poor thing into a mashed hump, forcing it rudely into the mangled and ugly state that it is now in, a shoddy molding block that we will call simply 'film.'
Let it be stated clearly at this time: FILM DOES NOT EQUAL CINEMA. But as it stands, and for some time now, Cinema has been missing, stolen as it were, and in its successive care it has been many times over stifled and neglected, perhaps even murdered! The culprits? Bastards! Bastardos! The Bastard children of a thousand men, born of a thousand more! Despicable bankers and the ill mannered, simple minded masses that bank with them. Bastards we do say! The reason, as we do see it, for this hijacking is quite simple: mass appeal means more money. And the bastard bankers are sure sweets on the moolah! Yes, we do say, it is now an ugly state. For in the arena of ultra-capitalism, in which we do currently reside, the halls and quarters are filled to the asshole with many a bugger, and there is a stench of rotted-mustard and burning popcorn, and your feet stick to the floor which is covered in a thick gooey mess, and when you walk there is a loud shlick-shlack. The problem with the appeal to mass appeal is that it promotes mass production, which is a soulless creature, more robotic than human, and boring to boot. In addition, mass production necessarily breeds the notion of efficiency, which is a disgusting critter all its own! Ardent adherence to efficiency overlooks, for the simple sake of time, the experimentalism needed in any work to truly ever evolve into a higher status, to become better, to grow. In doing exactly this, the bastard culprits have suffocated Cinema! Something must be done about this. What is your current project?
Currently we are getting ready to work on a series of video art films that we will try to shoot this summer, as well as a host of drawings, paintings and installations that will compliment the video work. In addition, we are also building a deck on our roof with our neighbor, who is Swiss. Not that it matters or makes any difference at all that he is Swiss, but we just wanted to mention it anyway, on the off chance that it actually does.
Do you have any upcoming exhibitions or screenings?
We have a print release through Brooklynite Gallery at their summer Pop-Up Shop in the East Village scheduled for August, which should be fun. We're also looking to do something outrageous in October, but we don't really want to talk about that yet. Not yet.
Other than that, the summer months usually bring with them the possibility for all sorts of unexpected parties and sleazy events. Those interested should definitely check our flickr/facebook/twitter things from time to time, as we'll most likely be posting info when it becomes available.
