capitalizes on an unreasonable 21st century expectation for the fast-food
packaging and commodification of everything. FORE caters to consumer culture's
compulsion to "collect" as a bid to buy into exclusivity.
Stenciling--an expression that once, by its very nature, invited and
inspired propagation via counterfeiting--has become a commodity to be captured,
tagged, authenticated and sold to the loft with the fattest wallet. Why bother
with concepts, sketches and razor-worn fingertips when you can just flip thru FORE, undo a couple of
snap-rings, compose some pre-fabricated ideas
and apathetically soak your composition with spray paint. It's all of the
creative rush with none of the messy process. FORE is graffiti's Hallmark
cynically, FORE is an experiment in democratic design. Who needs a 3 dollar
shirt or bag stained with ten cents worth of someone else's
ink for $40 when you can get 26 designs with which to
customize whatever you have around for
the price of two mass-produced $40 shirts? Underdeveloped drafting skills or a lack of studio
space shouldn't impede production. FORE is an invitation to tools. It's a
conduit for the crossover from consumption to creation.
Collect it or exploit it. Exploiting FORE defies its collectivity and collecting it stifles its exploitability. Exploiting FORE creatively ensures its eventual deterioration as an object. It wears, rips, frays and stains like most other tools. Its destruction becomes an artifact of the personality of its owner. Pampered as an object and untouched by paint or pens, FORE persists as a signed and numbered picture dictionary, but that existence too becomes a telling mirror of its owner.