In 2007, Brooklyn-raised artist Mike Baca was facing the bleak possibility of seven years imprisonment on Riker's Island for graffiti-related charges in New York City. Five years later, he and his partner Fernando Romero, aka 2ESAE and SKI (their respective tags), who make up the collective UR New York, are giddily celebrating the recent opening of their show "Breaking and Entering" at Pop International Gallery in Soho.
The show, which debuted at Art Basel in Miami and features over 50 works by the graffiti duo, marks a major step in their careers, and one that feels hard-earned. "This is the outcome of working super hard -- being diligent, persistent," says 33-year-old Queens-raised Fernando, who studied business at Parsons before deciding to pursue art full time. "You get back what you put in. This is the actual outcome of putting your heart and soul out there, not for money, not for fame."
Indeed, the two have paid their way in blood, sweat and tears. They've huddled in dark alleys, scaled fences, guerilla-filmed their late-night graffiti exploits, and later, when they began putting their work on canvas, spent their days year-round on the streets selling their artwork. Both have had run-ins with the law, though Fernando got away with just a few hours in jail. Mike, on the other hand, now 27 years old, served a three-month sentence, reduced from the original seven when a group called the Graffiti Research Lab intervened, and is at the tail end of a five-year probation.
"I think these guys are fearless," says Pop gallery owner Jeff Jaffe. "When you look at what they make, they're fearless, they're committed, they're authentic; all the things that any good art dealer wants. They're the real deal."
Pop became the artists' official home around seven months ago, within minutes of a fated meeting. As the story goes, Jeff already had his eye on them; they were selling their art just a stone's throw away from the gallery. Meanwhile, regular buyers of Mike and Fernando's work were telling them they were selling themselves short, and in some cases, even insisted on paying more than the listed price. When a Pop gallery client (who, in an ironic twist, also happens to be a cop) told Jeff he was buying art from them on the street, Jeff set up a meeting. The decision to work together was instantaneous. "We ran over with a truckload of artwork, and sold a piece as we were unloading the truck," recalls Mike incredulously.
Mike and Fernando, who have been working together for six years non-stop, jokingly call their relationship a 'bromance'. They work together, eat together and live together in their Brooklyn studio. They attribute their bond to their work ethic and relentless drive to create. "We didn't meet and become buddies and have beers," says Fernando. "We met and we just worked." While collaborations in the visual arts may not be the norm, the duo says the arrangement, quite simply, works. "I get inspired by him, he gets inspired by me," says Mike. "Everything's 50/50 with us...We have each other's back."
Their hard work is fueled by their mission "to spread the message of originality," according to Mike. "Whatever you want to do with your life, just do it. And be yourself while you're doing it," he adds. When they're not working in the studio, the pair channels their passion into helping kids who come from less privileged backgrounds like theirs. "The youth are going to be the critics of tomorrow," says Fernando. "We want to lay down paths for them." Fernando estimates that they've helped 50 kids graduate from college with art-related degrees. "If we can set an example, mission accomplished," he says.
While some die-hard graffiti writers might consider a show in a Soho gallery the ultimate sell-out, the upbeat artists don't see it that way. Their pieces, which blend photography, silk-screening, graphic design and graffiti, are currently on display alongside graffiti legends like Basquiat and Haring, impressive neighbors for artists who less than a year ago were selling their art in rain, sleet and snow.
Putting their work on canvas also brings permanence to an art form that is, by its very nature, impermanent. "This is infinite," says Fernando. And while the artists admit they miss the thrill of making art on the streets, they say there's something equally titillating about knowing their work is hanging on people's walls. "I'm painting a house," says Fernando, "which is so much more impressive than catching a tag on a building. You're buying my art and putting it up on your wall...It's like a f**k you with a hug."
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