The Underbelly Project : diving into the heart of a myth

The highlight of the 10th edition of Urban Art Fair, the immersive booth organized around The Underbelly Project is an opportunity to dive into the heart of this unique artistic project, led by Logan Hicks and Jordan Seiler.

More than fifteen years ago, Logan Hicks and Jordan Seiler had a slightly crazy idea: to take over—without permission—a disused subway station in the bowels (hence the name of the project) of New York City. Over a year and a half, between 2009 and 2010, more than a hundred artists were invited to paint monumental murals in complete freedom. The only constraint was that the work had to be completed in one night. This was a perfect illustration of the vandalistic spirit of urban art, as the site, which had long been kept secret, remained inaccessible to the public! On October 31, 2010, after the project ended, the organizers gave an anonymous interview to the New York Times (published on the front page!), maintaining the mystery… and the frustration. Fortunately, the entire project was extensively documented (photographs, videos, time-lapses, etc.) and a documentary recounts this incredible adventure, revisiting its artistic, ethical, legal, and human implications. Logan Hicks looks back on the history of this project, presented for the first time to the French public at the Carreau du Temple for the tenth anniversary of the Urban Art Fair.

Where does your special relationship with the New York subway come from?
I don’t know exactly when it started, but as far back as I can remember, I’ve always loved the subway. I grew up on a farm, but I always dreamed of living in the city. The subway represented everything I loved about the city. It’s loud, bustling, and filled with all kinds of people. The idea of being able to travel across New York from north to south at 4 a.m. in a tunnel that runs under the city appealed to my desire to travel.

How did The Underbelly Project come about?
In 2007, I left Los Angeles for New York. In 2008, the US economy suffered the bursting of the real estate bubble and my girlfriend at the time gave birth to our child. It was the worst possible time to move to the other side of the United States! Selling my artwork was a real challenge because of the crisis. I even considered finding a “normal” job, but I realized that it was time to fight for what I believed in: being an artist. So I continued to paint and exhibit wherever I could. At one of my exhibitions, I met Jordan Seiler, who would become my partner in The Underbelly Project. One evening, we were discussing the financial situation in the United States and asked ourselves, “If no one is buying art and no one is seeing it, is it worth continuing to create?” That question became the starting point for the project: if we’re not selling, we might as well have fun! Jordan showed me this huge, unfinished subway station, and we started painting there, not to sell, not to show off, just for fun.

There was a real sense of adventure in slipping under the radar, entering the bowels of the subway, and feeling our five senses go into overdrive amid the opaque darkness, the grime weathered by time, and the eerie silence, constantly broken by the echo of trains pulsing through the network. It was exhilarating to find ourselves among so many major artists and, for one night, to slip into the shoes of a real graffiti artist.

Chaz, The London Police

How did other artists join the project?
I had been painting with artists at various art shows and festivals for ten years. They were the first people I contacted. Then we tried to recruit people who were visiting New York. We had no budget, everything was self-financed, so we couldn’t afford to pay travel expenses. So when we heard that an artist was in town, we would send them an invitation. As the project grew, we made a list of artists we liked and sent them emails to introduce ourselves. Participants also recommended friends to us. In the end, 103 artists participated in The Underbelly Project.

Wasn’t it frustrating to create such works in a place that was inaccessible to the public?
Not at all, on the contrary. It reminded me of my childhood, when I used to draw in my room late at night, before I knew I could make a living from it. Creating something from nothing is what motivates all the artists I know, and that’s why I love art. At this station, we didn’t have to try to sell our work or worry about critics or gallery owners telling us what they wanted. We were simply making art for ourselves. The only frustration was the environment, which was really difficult, damp, and dirty.

As we left the platform and headed for the stairs, I remember feeling impatient to see the place for myself, beyond the photos. I walked around, feeling the same calm that I seek in Paris, in those gigantic underground structures that I love.

Fantin Leroux

How did such an initiative, which began without any authorization, become a benchmark?
When we carried out this project, urban art was beginning to change: major brands were appropriating street art, real estate developers were commissioning murals to make neighborhoods safer, companies were sponsoring festivals… While getting paid was nice, we missed the days when displaying your work on the street without asking permission was an act of rebellion. At this station, no one could commercialize what we were doing and profit from it. It was one of the last true urban art projects created by artists for artists.

Was making a documentary the best way to capture the essence of this project?
We also published a book, but the film was better able to capture the essence and pay tribute to the community that came together around this project and the risks we all took by painting illegally in this place. The challenge was in making it happen: bringing in the equipment, filming in a station plunged into darkness… The film helps bring the ideas behind this project to life and keeps a record of this crazy idea that became reality.

Does urban art still retain its rebellious, underground spirit today?
I don’t think so. When something is new and fresh, it’s exciting. But after a while, some people start imposing rules and sacrificing art for commerce. Money distorts even the purest ideals. When I started out, no one wanted to be a “street artist”; we just wanted our art to be seen. Since galleries wouldn’t accept it, we put it on the streets. But today, young people pay $90,000 a year to attend art school to get a degree in “street art.” Urban art is more recognized, the quality has improved, and the diversity and inclusivity of artists has increased. But the raw energy of the early days has almost disappeared. Today, street art is just art in the street. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Everything changes; nothing lasts forever. There’s only one first time. After that, we just repeat what has already been said.

The most striking memory is undoubtedly the long silence that followed my speech. It was a bit like waking up from a vivid dream, knowing full well that you couldn’t close your eyes and go back to it. It was a surreal, deeply personal moment that might just as well never have happened.

Joe Iurato

Why did you choose Urban Art Fair to present this project to the public?
Firstly, I find that support for urban art is greater in Paris than in other cities. In Paris, there are institutions, foundations, museums, and galleries that support this movement at various levels. Even the average pedestrian seems to have a vague idea of what street art is. I thought this city would be welcoming to this project. Secondly, I have been following the Urban Art Fair for many years and have always respected their commitment to presenting high-quality artworks. So I was convinced that they would understand the spirit of the project. I felt that there was potential to work with them to present our vision and showcase The Underbelly Project.

What artworks will be presented at the booth?
We will be exhibiting 18 artists from The Underbelly Project. It wasn’t possible to feature all 103 participants, but we plan to organize other exhibitions to include them all. We tried to select artists using a variety of techniques, highlighting those who have become more visible since Underbelly. It’s important to remember that the project began 16 years ago. When we started, we were all young and just starting out. Over the years, many of us have exhibited in museums, been included in foundation collections, and built careers in ways we never thought possible. We are trying to show visitors how The Underbelly Project has made history.

© Ian Cox / Logan Hicks