MECHANICAL CONTRACTORS ASSOCIATION, 9' X 27'
E PLURIBUS UNUM; client: PRICE WATERHOUSE COOPERS; 9' X 3'
CELEBRATING the HEROES of OUR CITY; client: CITYarts, sponsored by DISNEY PUBLISHING;
45' (at highest point) x @245'
45' (at highest point) x @245'
BRIEF HISTORY OF HOLLYWOOD; client: Video Stop, Inc; 4' 6" x @50'
FOREIGN FILMS; client: Video Stop, Inc; 4' 6" x 15'
SOARING HIGH; client: PRICE WATERHOUSE COOPERS "HELPING HANDS" VOLUNTEER GROUP, commissioned for New Orleans Restoration Project; 9' x @45'
VINTAGE SOUTH STREET SEAPORT; client: PRICE WATERHOUSE COOPERS; 4' X 6'
CULTURE CLUB nightclub MURALS, @9' X 14', 5' X7'
"Richard's artistic vision is amazing. Finding a great mural artist is no easy task, let alone one that interacts so well with the people that are painting the art. Richard's patience with painters of all skill levels was fantastic. He coached novices and encouraged everyone to participate, so it was a creation by all. Richard created a masterpiece in the heart of New Orleans, at a school that was underwater. I know this art has uplifted the spirit of Warren Easton High School. Richard was a pleasure to work with on all levels of our project. He helped us create an unforgettable experience for everyone involved in Project New Orleans. Should the opportunity arise again for a mural, Richard will be first on my list to call."
- Blake Neiman, PricewaterhouseCoopers US, Human Capital Manager
- Blake Neiman, PricewaterhouseCoopers US, Human Capital Manager
In response to the heightened emotions of September 11, 2001, this collaborative mural was created in the Lower East Side of NYC during summer 2002. Working 7 days a week on average of 16 hours a day, hundreds and hundreds of volunteers of all ages came out, mostly from the neighborhood, all looking to be a part.
It was my job to conduct workshops for the community, then create an all-inclusive, inspired design that looked forward by paying tribute to the heroes, instead of looking backwards and mourn the recent past.
In the end, I was very inspired by the community's efforts.....
It was my job to conduct workshops for the community, then create an all-inclusive, inspired design that looked forward by paying tribute to the heroes, instead of looking backwards and mourn the recent past.
In the end, I was very inspired by the community's efforts.....
While staying in Saigon, a local travel agency arranged for me a reentry visa so that I could visit Cambodia and return... $25 got a piece of paper written in Vietnamese explaining to the border patrol my needs and info for a reentry visa (which isn't the same as a regular visa)..... So, while on the bus from Phnom Penh to Saigon, because my visa would be a different kind, the bus attendant instructed me that while the bus is stopped at the border for a quick dinner, he'll get everyone else's visa processed but that I should follow him to the checkpoint and do mine individually......
The border town itself was typically sleazy, practically a copy of Tijuana or Vegas. casinos, bright lights, big cars, cheap motels, and streetwalking prostitutes everywhere.... dayjobbers and opportunists clustered around the borders, prostitutes crossed back and forth freely-- some tempting the guards with free peeks, it was a scene..... So there I am, trying to get my visa, getting sent from gov't. building to building and passing among all these characters staring at me like i'm an oddball-- pale skin foreigners are hardly (if ever) on foot here, they're usually staring out from the safety of bus windows like they're in rolling fishtanks.....
Anyways, the guard that's in charge of paperwork is sleepy and i've interrupted the soccer match on tv, but he processed my work when all of a sudden he threw everything down in a fit of rage and started cursing, at me in my direction, screaming in Vietnamese, giving me an evil eye, and I tried to create a face that would hopefully project innocence, humility, and a mild case of stupidity in hopes that he'd have mercy on whatever it was that suddenly aggravated him, just give me my passport back, and send me on my way to Saigon.........
I'm told to wait.
I anxiously looked out to see if the bus with the other passengers could come rolling by any minute with my luggage still on board, and couldn't believe I was now being detained at the border! I'm tried to explain so that I can get back to find my bus, but he doesn't undersatnd any of what i'm trying to communicate and calls in someone who speaks a tiny bit of english.
"do you know what's happening?"
"no...." I softly responded, hoping to get out before the border patrol starts becoming even more "ïnterested" in me.....
"ÿou no go into Vietnam. cannot."
"ëxcuse me??? um.... why?""
"your visa-- no good" he said matter-of-factly.
"You're kidding me........ The travel agent in Saigon told me this paper would get me into Vietnam with no problem....""
"No. You can't go into Vietnam"
"They're has to be some misunderstanding, is there someone I can talk to?"...and all the while i'm looking out of the corner of me eye, hoping not to see my bus roll by with my luggages while all this is going on.
"You must turn around NOW and go back to Phnom Penh"
"Wait, there has to be a way to solve this..."
"You must go now, go back to Phnom Penh, call travel company and tell them to send you new paper""
"ök, ok,"" I say, trying to streamline the bullshit, "Where is their phone number on this paper... is this it? or is this?", i ask pointing to various numbers.
"No, their phone number not here."
"Wait, you're telling me... their number isn't even on here? I have NO information from the company at all? I have NO way of contacting them.... "
"Sir.... you must go now, go back to Phnom Penh, go to Vietnam embassy, new visa.... good bye..."
By now i'm hoping a bribe can work, and i'm trying to see if that's what this is about....
"ök how much does the visa cost......""
"$25......""
"So if i pay that now, with an additional "ön the spot" visa fee that i also can pay RIGHT NOW, will it get me back on board the bus with no problem?""
"We don't have way to take visa fee here, you have to go back Phnom Penh, please, go, outside now...."
So there i was, stuck at the border, at the onset of twilight, wondering if my bus had already passed by with my luggage on the way to Saigon......
Across the way, a bus started up it's engine at the checkpoint and began to drive off.... I ran to see if it was the one I was on when a patrol guard suddenly stopped me asking for my passport... I showed him, trying to explain my needs. He couldn't understand...
"You, no, no entry Vietnam.... go back Kampuchea.... go back Phnom Penh...""
I tried asking if my bus company came through, he keeps telling me to turn around and go back to Phnom Penh... I'm struggling to communicate while simultaneously trying to figure out how to connect with the bus company if it's on it's way to Saigon with my bags..... and what will i do for the next few days with nothing except my camera and a bag full of miscellaneous supplies........ Just then, my bus rolled up and the attendant waved me over.
I'm relieved. They hadn't gone on and my bags are here.
But I explained to him I had to stay bcause of visa problems........ Feeling bad, he looked worrisome, while the guards, well, they didn't care because it's their job not to.
And as the sun started going down, my future in Vietnam was cut short as I watched the bus drive off into the distance without me, leaving me to look at all the foreigners' faces staring back at me from those rolling fishtank windows.....
So there I was, left behind to wander among the border characters, lost, displaced, not sure where or next to whom i'd be sleeping that night........
By luck at that moment, the very, very last bus of the evening creaked its way up to the border, a mid-sized, claustrophobic, overcrowded bus full of locals, on its way to Phnom Penh....
___________________________________
The air was almost cold as we rolled back into Phnom Penh around 10pm that night, and I was able to check back into the very same hotel room I had just left earlier that morning. It had become my favorite hotel room in PP out of 3 I had tried. It was tiny with an overhead fan, a double bed, a tv and bathroom in the room, and along with needing a fresh paint job it had a great window and terrace overlooking street 136-- a pulsating strip of cafes, restaurants, and bars, all heavily trafficked by sleazy expats, travelers, local "business" people, market dwellers, bar girls and prostitutes, billiard junkies, junkies, derelicts, and young and old cyclo and moto drivers that have become ancient characters withstanding hardships beyond anything imaginable--- almost everyone there was a leftover, a carryover, a relic, produced from the bygone days of the Khmer Rouge, and everyone was determined to look only forward now and enjoy their freedom...... Endless, high octane, ferocious roaring and grizzling of moto-engines ripped through the air; the exhaust, smog, and smells of fried meats underneath at the food stalls all billowed into one huge cloud; in many ways, it was an urban jungle paradise with no regulations.....
The following morning, I took an early moto to the Vietnamese embassy. After the driver asked everyone in sight for directions on how to get there, we finally arrived to find it wasn't open yet. Only a lone uniformed guard sat in a booth outside, and he wasn't speaking any english either, but knowing what I was there for he asked for my passport and explained my visa would cost $40.... After giving $25 to an the incompetent travel agency in Saigon for a reentry visa that was only as good as toilet paper, it was now going to be another $40 for an all NEW visa....
The guard asked me for the fee, and I wondered why he would take the fee and not a clerical office. There was no answer, only pay him and I could get my passport with a valid visa at 5pm that afternoon. Knowing the rates from local Cambodian travel agencies, other options really didn't exist that wouldn't keep me waiting longer, overstay my Cambodian visa by more days, and continue to accumulate late penalty fees.....
$40.
I handed it over and in return got only a business card with his name.
"What about a receipt for the $40?" I asked.
I was told his name card WAS my receipt, and at 5pm I would have my passport back with a visa.
So I went back back through the nuttiness of PP's morning rush hour commute of thousands of motorbikes, having exchanged perhaps my most valuable possession for a simple business card and the promise from a uniformed official that is part of a rumored-to-be-corrupt armed service....
I pondered the choices I had been presented with, way out in the wilderness trying to be civilized.....
Now, days before, I had been asked by a local bar/restaurant owner-- a young American expat named Kenny who was coincidentally from the Bronx-- to paint a mural for his 2nd restaurant: PP's only "reggae"-themed bar...Having explained my situation to him and that my time was limited, he still insisted and wanted me to do the job and said no problem: whatever I could do in a day or 2 would be fine, and if they didn't like it they would just paint it out.... Ok, I thought. Why not. For the fun of it, and if nothing else than the possible mention of the restaurant and mural in traveler guidebooks. So the arrangement was made: a 9-foot portrait of Bob Marley for the inside, and if time permitted, a waterfall for the outside......
Well,
In the one day before trying to return to Vietnam the first time, I had completed 2 interior murals for Kenny: one, a simple design that was painted by the restaurant's all-girl staff, and the 9-foot portrait of Bob Marley in almost performance-style speed as customers watched it develop from grid-scale to finish from a crappy photo found on the internet......
But now, with my extra day in PP because of waiting for the Vietnamese visa to be processed, I was also able to do Kenny's exterior waterfall mural. I designed and painted his waterfall in only 6 hours, in @40+ celsius heat, much to the amazement, entertainment, and eventual gossip of the entire neighborhood. Everyone started coming out to watch as nobody was used to seeing anything like that..... Then the local 6 and 7 year old kids tried to help, and of course I let them try to get in on the action-- painting in the bottom areas-- before I learned they were ducking out of class for this! Their teachers came over screaming, thinking they were disturbing me and I tried explaining they weren't, that it was more exciting to have them involved with a community project, but it was lost in translation and culture: they wanted the kids to be deferential, especially to older foreigners....
By 5pm, having now also completed both mural requests, I was able to reclaim my passport with the Vietnam visa......... All I had to do was present the guard's name card to a plain-clothes wearing, mafioso-type standing on the street outside the embassy.
Finally.
My Vietnamese visa was now official, after $25 for a bogus reentry visa that was worthless, $30 in overstay-fines for Cambodia, $40 for a visa that should have only been $20, $32 for bus fare to, from, and back to the border when it should have been only a $12, one time trip......
Finally.
I was finally able to make my way to the next stop: Danang, Vietnam, via an 11pm train out of Saigon, to visit a co-worker's family.......
The border town itself was typically sleazy, practically a copy of Tijuana or Vegas. casinos, bright lights, big cars, cheap motels, and streetwalking prostitutes everywhere.... dayjobbers and opportunists clustered around the borders, prostitutes crossed back and forth freely-- some tempting the guards with free peeks, it was a scene..... So there I am, trying to get my visa, getting sent from gov't. building to building and passing among all these characters staring at me like i'm an oddball-- pale skin foreigners are hardly (if ever) on foot here, they're usually staring out from the safety of bus windows like they're in rolling fishtanks.....
Anyways, the guard that's in charge of paperwork is sleepy and i've interrupted the soccer match on tv, but he processed my work when all of a sudden he threw everything down in a fit of rage and started cursing, at me in my direction, screaming in Vietnamese, giving me an evil eye, and I tried to create a face that would hopefully project innocence, humility, and a mild case of stupidity in hopes that he'd have mercy on whatever it was that suddenly aggravated him, just give me my passport back, and send me on my way to Saigon.........
I'm told to wait.
I anxiously looked out to see if the bus with the other passengers could come rolling by any minute with my luggage still on board, and couldn't believe I was now being detained at the border! I'm tried to explain so that I can get back to find my bus, but he doesn't undersatnd any of what i'm trying to communicate and calls in someone who speaks a tiny bit of english.
"do you know what's happening?"
"no...." I softly responded, hoping to get out before the border patrol starts becoming even more "ïnterested" in me.....
"ÿou no go into Vietnam. cannot."
"ëxcuse me??? um.... why?""
"your visa-- no good" he said matter-of-factly.
"You're kidding me........ The travel agent in Saigon told me this paper would get me into Vietnam with no problem....""
"No. You can't go into Vietnam"
"They're has to be some misunderstanding, is there someone I can talk to?"...and all the while i'm looking out of the corner of me eye, hoping not to see my bus roll by with my luggages while all this is going on.
"You must turn around NOW and go back to Phnom Penh"
"Wait, there has to be a way to solve this..."
"You must go now, go back to Phnom Penh, call travel company and tell them to send you new paper""
"ök, ok,"" I say, trying to streamline the bullshit, "Where is their phone number on this paper... is this it? or is this?", i ask pointing to various numbers.
"No, their phone number not here."
"Wait, you're telling me... their number isn't even on here? I have NO information from the company at all? I have NO way of contacting them.... "
"Sir.... you must go now, go back to Phnom Penh, go to Vietnam embassy, new visa.... good bye..."
By now i'm hoping a bribe can work, and i'm trying to see if that's what this is about....
"ök how much does the visa cost......""
"$25......""
"So if i pay that now, with an additional "ön the spot" visa fee that i also can pay RIGHT NOW, will it get me back on board the bus with no problem?""
"We don't have way to take visa fee here, you have to go back Phnom Penh, please, go, outside now...."
So there i was, stuck at the border, at the onset of twilight, wondering if my bus had already passed by with my luggage on the way to Saigon......
Across the way, a bus started up it's engine at the checkpoint and began to drive off.... I ran to see if it was the one I was on when a patrol guard suddenly stopped me asking for my passport... I showed him, trying to explain my needs. He couldn't understand...
"You, no, no entry Vietnam.... go back Kampuchea.... go back Phnom Penh...""
I tried asking if my bus company came through, he keeps telling me to turn around and go back to Phnom Penh... I'm struggling to communicate while simultaneously trying to figure out how to connect with the bus company if it's on it's way to Saigon with my bags..... and what will i do for the next few days with nothing except my camera and a bag full of miscellaneous supplies........ Just then, my bus rolled up and the attendant waved me over.
I'm relieved. They hadn't gone on and my bags are here.
But I explained to him I had to stay bcause of visa problems........ Feeling bad, he looked worrisome, while the guards, well, they didn't care because it's their job not to.
And as the sun started going down, my future in Vietnam was cut short as I watched the bus drive off into the distance without me, leaving me to look at all the foreigners' faces staring back at me from those rolling fishtank windows.....
So there I was, left behind to wander among the border characters, lost, displaced, not sure where or next to whom i'd be sleeping that night........
By luck at that moment, the very, very last bus of the evening creaked its way up to the border, a mid-sized, claustrophobic, overcrowded bus full of locals, on its way to Phnom Penh....
___________________________________
The air was almost cold as we rolled back into Phnom Penh around 10pm that night, and I was able to check back into the very same hotel room I had just left earlier that morning. It had become my favorite hotel room in PP out of 3 I had tried. It was tiny with an overhead fan, a double bed, a tv and bathroom in the room, and along with needing a fresh paint job it had a great window and terrace overlooking street 136-- a pulsating strip of cafes, restaurants, and bars, all heavily trafficked by sleazy expats, travelers, local "business" people, market dwellers, bar girls and prostitutes, billiard junkies, junkies, derelicts, and young and old cyclo and moto drivers that have become ancient characters withstanding hardships beyond anything imaginable--- almost everyone there was a leftover, a carryover, a relic, produced from the bygone days of the Khmer Rouge, and everyone was determined to look only forward now and enjoy their freedom...... Endless, high octane, ferocious roaring and grizzling of moto-engines ripped through the air; the exhaust, smog, and smells of fried meats underneath at the food stalls all billowed into one huge cloud; in many ways, it was an urban jungle paradise with no regulations.....
The following morning, I took an early moto to the Vietnamese embassy. After the driver asked everyone in sight for directions on how to get there, we finally arrived to find it wasn't open yet. Only a lone uniformed guard sat in a booth outside, and he wasn't speaking any english either, but knowing what I was there for he asked for my passport and explained my visa would cost $40.... After giving $25 to an the incompetent travel agency in Saigon for a reentry visa that was only as good as toilet paper, it was now going to be another $40 for an all NEW visa....
The guard asked me for the fee, and I wondered why he would take the fee and not a clerical office. There was no answer, only pay him and I could get my passport with a valid visa at 5pm that afternoon. Knowing the rates from local Cambodian travel agencies, other options really didn't exist that wouldn't keep me waiting longer, overstay my Cambodian visa by more days, and continue to accumulate late penalty fees.....
$40.
I handed it over and in return got only a business card with his name.
"What about a receipt for the $40?" I asked.
I was told his name card WAS my receipt, and at 5pm I would have my passport back with a visa.
So I went back back through the nuttiness of PP's morning rush hour commute of thousands of motorbikes, having exchanged perhaps my most valuable possession for a simple business card and the promise from a uniformed official that is part of a rumored-to-be-corrupt armed service....
I pondered the choices I had been presented with, way out in the wilderness trying to be civilized.....
Now, days before, I had been asked by a local bar/restaurant owner-- a young American expat named Kenny who was coincidentally from the Bronx-- to paint a mural for his 2nd restaurant: PP's only "reggae"-themed bar...Having explained my situation to him and that my time was limited, he still insisted and wanted me to do the job and said no problem: whatever I could do in a day or 2 would be fine, and if they didn't like it they would just paint it out.... Ok, I thought. Why not. For the fun of it, and if nothing else than the possible mention of the restaurant and mural in traveler guidebooks. So the arrangement was made: a 9-foot portrait of Bob Marley for the inside, and if time permitted, a waterfall for the outside......
Well,
In the one day before trying to return to Vietnam the first time, I had completed 2 interior murals for Kenny: one, a simple design that was painted by the restaurant's all-girl staff, and the 9-foot portrait of Bob Marley in almost performance-style speed as customers watched it develop from grid-scale to finish from a crappy photo found on the internet......
But now, with my extra day in PP because of waiting for the Vietnamese visa to be processed, I was also able to do Kenny's exterior waterfall mural. I designed and painted his waterfall in only 6 hours, in @40+ celsius heat, much to the amazement, entertainment, and eventual gossip of the entire neighborhood. Everyone started coming out to watch as nobody was used to seeing anything like that..... Then the local 6 and 7 year old kids tried to help, and of course I let them try to get in on the action-- painting in the bottom areas-- before I learned they were ducking out of class for this! Their teachers came over screaming, thinking they were disturbing me and I tried explaining they weren't, that it was more exciting to have them involved with a community project, but it was lost in translation and culture: they wanted the kids to be deferential, especially to older foreigners....
By 5pm, having now also completed both mural requests, I was able to reclaim my passport with the Vietnam visa......... All I had to do was present the guard's name card to a plain-clothes wearing, mafioso-type standing on the street outside the embassy.
Finally.
My Vietnamese visa was now official, after $25 for a bogus reentry visa that was worthless, $30 in overstay-fines for Cambodia, $40 for a visa that should have only been $20, $32 for bus fare to, from, and back to the border when it should have been only a $12, one time trip......
Finally.
I was finally able to make my way to the next stop: Danang, Vietnam, via an 11pm train out of Saigon, to visit a co-worker's family.......
Phnom Penh, Cambodia: restaurant murals