On the street, a man is pasting posters along the walls of a derelict building. Using a broom, spread the glue over the vertical surface, already dominated by other species of the genus, and fix a new poster, exerting pressure so that the piece of paper is properly glued — it is a poster announcing a new film .
People circulating in the street, on foot or by car, seem not to notice the man, who continues to put up posters. I notice him and watch him across the street. (All kidding aside, I’m surprised by the mechanics he imprints on the process.) It’s due to his work that that abandoned spot in the city, eminently sad, has some color. Even though he only posts the works conceived and carried out by designers and photographers, the energy generated by that building, filled with colorful posters, is entirely his responsibility. He owes us nothing; the man limits himself to fulfilling the function for which he was hired, however he helps in the decoration of the city. We cannot demand that the man solve the housing problems in the area, however – this is a job for the municipal agents.
The building is vacant, but shows some life. In the city, there are many other derelict buildings that have not yet collapsed because their foundations depend on beautiful exercises in design, which show the inhabitants of the city exhibitions, concerts, parties, demonstrations, theater plays, among other events. Since no one is trying to rectify the situation, and no one seems to be truly bothered by the existence of buildings made of dust, the designers, the photographers — and the men who put up posters! — try to minimize the consequences of this decrepit situation (literally).
They say walls have ears. I believe it, but I go further, daring to say that they also have mouths and eyes. The walls of these buildings masquerading as an exhibition hall authentically communicate with the people of the city, who, through more or less attentive looks, discover hidden episodes in the life of their city.
I understand that most people are not available to pay attention to the messages on these posters — they walk quickly and rarely look to the side — but I think that, in this text, there is a well-deserved tribute to these pieces of paper, who watch, without never blink your eyes, to city scenes. Every day, thousands of people pass in front of them with different life motives, but who have one factor in common: they live in the same city, being potential customers of the distractions it offers.
I’m afraid I’m giving too much importance to mere sheets of paper, but I believe that, if we didn’t count on their presence in the streets of the city, experiences would certainly be different (and a person truly interested in a certain art show would have to discover it otherwise risking missing the event). I think twice and assume that I am not, because I realize the power that emanates from these fragile posters, which are a record of everything that goes on in the city, functioning as a repository of dates and experiences that remained in the past and in people’s memories. who lived them. The city, however, moved forward in time to embrace the present. I just hope that, in the future, derelict buildings will be a thing of the past and that people who put up posters will not go around disguising other questions, the answers to which have nothing to do with design graphic.