Possibilities for creative resistance

What possibilities exist for creative resistance to the destructive and oppressive structures of power present in contemporary Western society?




I will be looking at creative practices of resistance that relate to what I consider to be art. This is in order to narrow the scope of this project to a more realistic and useful scale. It is also an attempt to ensure relevance to my own artistic practice as someone who is currently a student of visual arts. The question of how one may conclusively distinguish between high art and political action is not the issue at stake in this essay, which will therefore only engage with the question of “what is art?” implicitly in the selection of works included.

I will also briefly clarify what I mean by the phrase “the destructive and oppressive structures of power present in contemporary Western society”. Again, I have chosen to limit the scope of this project to address issues relating to contemporary Western society in an attempt to reduce the impossibly massive question of “how can we change the world” to the merely extremely large “how could I change my world”. It is a loaded phrase. It recognises the structures of power present in our society that benefit those who happen to be white, able bodied, male, human, heterosexual, cis-gendered, educated and so on, at the expense of those who are not. It then concludes that these hierarchies are indeed oppressive and destructive.

This distribution of power can be seen in many different forms, such as imperialism, colonialism, racism, sexism, heterosexism, cissexism, ableism, classism and speciesism, to name a few. The fundamental nature of these hierarchies manifests in equally diverse yet interconnected ways within our dominant paradigm of neoliberalism. These hierarchies oppress marginalised groups through lower socio-economic status, restricted access to education, employment and necessary healthcare, and greater risk of physical and psychological violence, as well as through other mechanisms. Western society’s intrinsic belief in the legitimacy of these hierarchies also manifests in the numerous wars and invasions enacted by dominant Western powers, the ways in which Western states continue to colonise and attempt to destroy non-Western cultures, the systematic abuse of non-human animals in the name of the agricultural industry, the failure by governments to adequately address ways in which marginalised social groups are disempowered and disadvantaged in favour of dominant groups and the continued destruction of the natural world upon which all life on Earth depends. This is all done in the name of profit for those who benefit from these hierarchies. However, like the question of what defines the boundaries of “art”, this is not the issue at stake here; it is an assertion about the nature of the social context in which this question is being asked.



In examining the possibilities for creative resistance to destructive and oppressive structures of power within the context of contemporary Western society, it may be useful to consider certain questions that at first might seem peripheral. What constitutes the role of the artist in society? What role can art play in social movements? What role can art play in significant personal experiences? These are important questions to consider when trying to establish how someone who identifies themselves as artistic might start in creatively engaging with their society and injustices that they identify within it. Beyond this, there is the issue of how art can avoid the process of recuperation and neutralisation. This process is an ongoing issue as artistic energy is regularly integrated into government propaganda and corporate brand value, thereby bolstering and reinforcing the very power structures the artist might have sought to disrupt. It is a vital question to be constantly asking in order to be effective in the goals that we set out for ourselves and our movements. However the most crucial question of all for one who wants to change the world for the better, might be “where does one start?”. Hopefully as this essay considers possible answers to these initial questions, answers to the final one will become clearer.

What defines an artist and what the artist’s role in society might be, are questions that have caused a divisive and constantly changing debate in an attempt to find a universally true answer. It seems likely that this search for an all-encompassing theory is the very thing that has caused this difficulty. I will therefore avoid attempting to secure a definitive answer. Instead, I will consider a variety of perspectives that may prove useful in exploring possibilities for creative resistance, so that those who are interested in engaging with creative resistance might have a framework for building their own analysis and practice.

The artist Meredith Stahl offers a succinct answer to the question of the role of the artist, conceiving of artists as “troublemakers and beautifiers”[1] This answer effectively summarises a number of diverse perspectives offered by many others. Definitions of what roles art might play in society have been offered by many people, and include suggestions like: “to create a sense of possibility”[2] or a “voice for people who are oppressed”[3]; to “remind people that there are others out there who think as they do”[4]; to “document or challenge history”[5]; to “provide an appealing and accessible entry point to social issues and radical politics”[6]; “contesting or offering alternatives to (reality)”[7]; or simply “as a means to bring joy and hope to people’s lives”[8]. One particularly poignant assertion of the primary role of artists is “as question-askers and tricksters, shouting forbidden questions and making things which challenge authorities and things-as-they-are”[9]. The role of art in disrupting the status quo is well documented in the rich history of artists acting also as mavericks, troublemakers, and educators throughout the world. However this is a history that includes censorship and suppression of art by oppressive regimes where art’s power as a tool of subversion and a catalyst to incite critical thought has threatened these regimes and continues to do so.

Having established the role of artists as troublemakers, beautifiers, question-askers, and tricksters, we must ask ourselves what artists can do to fulfil this role, what strategies they might employ, and what role creativity can play in social movements. Here is where we can move somewhat away from philosophy and personal opinion to the slightly more concrete exploration of possible techniques, strategies, processes, and a selection of actual examples of contemporary art-as-resistance.

The strategies of creative resistance are necessarily as diverse as the manifestations of oppression it is attempting to disrupt. Some of the strategies utilised in the works that will be considered in this text include: creating visibility for groups, people, or issues that have been rendered invisible; subverting dominant narratives prescribed by society’s status quo; establishing networks of mutual support to avoid reliance on corporate and state institutions; questioning the legitimacy of authorities and undermining those with dubious legitimacy; resisting the commodification of art and refusing to engage uncritically with the economic and bureaucratic structures that make up the art market; educating others and ourselves outside of dominant paradigms or institutions; and equipping others and ourselves with the tools necessary for engagement with resistance, self expression and self actualisation. Ideally, through the realisation of these strategies of resistance, we should be able to reclaim identity, space and power in a society that limits access to these for those outside of a select elite of white, male, heterosexual, cisgendered, able bodied, educated humans.


The Beehive Design Collective is a group in North America that combines all these techniques in order to create works that, in every aspect of their process, are attempts to improve the lives of those oppressed by these structures of power. They are an “all-volunteer activist arts collective dedicated to ‘cross-pollinating the grassroots’ by creating collaborative, anti-copyright images for use as educational and organising tools”[10]. Their massive poster works use cartoons and story-telling to break down complex issues into accessible and engaging formats, while their insistence on anti-copyright, free distribution and hosting workshops, and printing explanative pamphlets to facilitate maximum comprehension of the images, ensure that these creative resources are available to the communities that will be most affected by the issues at stake.

The Beehive Design Collective begin their creative process by embarking on extensive “listening projects”[11] where they gather the stories that will help them to more fully and accurately understand the situation. They translate the collected stories into images that are complex enough to represent the situation in an effective way, but clear enough to be useful as an educational tool. Once these large-scale poster format images are produced, they distribute them by hand using a grassroots model of organisation, with emphasis on the importance of person-to-person interactions. They do not exhibit their work in galleries, instead preferring to present the works in such unconventional places as “college auditoriums, punk house living rooms, rotary clubs, after school programs for youth, church basements, public school classrooms, and in the streets of mass mobilisations, … large conference halls… (and) back yard shindigs”[12]. The collective also send bulk materials back to places like Latin America and Appalachia who are the people most affected by the issues dealt with in their poster projects.

One of the Beehive’s recent works was their 2001 poster project titled Free Trade Area of the Americas (And The Global Resistance To Corporate Colonialism). In addition to their face-to-face touring with workshops and educational resources, they provide a pamphlet in four languages, which is available for free on their website along with a high resolution download of the entire poster. This pamphlet provides “a narrative tour of the symbolism and intention of this image”[13], explaining in clear detail what each aspect of the work represents and the nature of the relationships between these elements.

free trade area of the americas beehive poster

Image 1: Beehive Design Collective, Free Trade Area of The Americas, 2001, large scale poster work.

Image 2: Beehive Design Collective, How To Use This Poster, http://beehivecollective.org/beehive_poster/free-trade-of-the-americas/


Image 3: (detail) “Free Trade Area of The Americas”  Image 4: (detail) “Free Trade Area of The Americas”


Image 5: (detail) “Free Trade Area of The Americas”  Image 6: (detail) “Free Trade Area of The Americas”

The visual metaphors used in Free Trade Area of the Americas rely on the central metaphor of the “web” of globalised markets. Upon this web sit three sinister spiders that represent development, militarisation and corporate media (Image 2). These visual symbols use dark humour and easily recognised images, such as the Spider of Corporate Media’s “Nike” teeth and Disney logo shaped satellite dish (Image 3) or the Spider of Development’s chainsaw teeth and oil drill arms (Image 4). The victims of this “corporate colonialism” are cocooned in the spiders’ web and are also represented by animals. The howler monkey spun in sewing thread (Image 5) represents the sweatshop workers, the sheep in the graduation hat wrapped in chains of debt represents the students of privatised education, treated as “customers, future employees and captive markets”[17], while the sea turtle caught in fishing net and six pack ring plastic is the ecological destruction and extinction crisis, and the black crow is locked in the cage of Western society’s growing prison industrial complex[18]. There are other victim symbols that are also explained in the workshops and pamphlet. The other major component of the work is the Ants (Image 6). There is a saying throughout parts of Latin America that “the revolution is the work of the ants”, and the ants in this image represent resistance. Those marching in from the left (the global south) symbolise the struggles and tactics of groups such as Movimiento, Sem Terra, the landless peasant movement of Brazil and the Zapatistas of Chiapas, Mexico. On the right are the ants that represent the North American anti-globalisation movement and their tactics, offering playful suggestions to the audience of the work.The work, Free Trade Area of the Americas (Image 1) is the first in a trilogy of educational tools discussing complex issues of globalisation in the “Western hemisphere”[14]. It is a visual critique of the policy of the same name that sought to create a huge integrated web of open markets by breaking down barriers restricting profitable movement of resources and access to cheap under-regulated labour. This process of what the Beehive calls “corporate colonialism”[15] makes it easier for large imperial forces like the USA to exploit smaller countries for cheap labour, while also having to deal with fewer regulations protecting workers, communities and the environment than they would have to contend with in their own country. The work uses visual metaphors to represent this process, putting all aspects of the issue in the one image to break down the mindset that the problems faced as a result of globalisation are single issues. It is also “a celebration of global resistance to the neoliberal model of development behind free trade agreements, and can be used to spark storytelling and sharing of strategies and tactics”[16].

The Beehive Design Collective engages with every strategy mentioned in the introduction of this essay. They subvert dominant narratives by offering alternative stories to the ones disseminated by corporate media and government propaganda. They create visibility for the people who are marginalised by the forces of “corporate colonialism”, imperialism and patriarchal power, by retelling the people’s stories through their art. They establish networks of mutual support by engaging and getting involved with local community groups and initiatives, such as the creation and maintenance of community art spaces that are independently run without government or corporate support and control. They critique the legitimacy of imperial Western authority by representing its manifestations as sinister spiders and rejecting phrases of propaganda like “free trade” and “open markets” in favour of their analysis of predatory globalisation as “corporate colonialism”. They resist the commodification of their art by licensing their work as creative commons, effectively an anti-copyright, as well as refusing to engage with art markets or the commercial gallery system. Instead they distribute and produce work themselves, as a collective, and refuse to attribute work to individuals within the collective, thereby denying the narratives of artist-as-genius and artist-as-celebrity. They educate themselves and others by seeking out information and breaking down extremely complex issues into stories that can be easily understood, then taking these stories to large numbers of people who would otherwise have limited access to knowledge outside the dominant neoliberal paradigm that places growth and greed above human dignity and the preservation of the earth. Finally, they equip themselves and others with strategies for resistance in the representation of the ants in the work Free Trade Area of the Americas. They also disseminate the physical resources of their posters, which “support movement building and act as a catalyst for change”[19]. This ensures that these resources are accessible to “those on the frontlines (who) are best equipped to understand how to use them”[20].


This model of an art collective is similar to the one used by Taring Padi, a movement of creative resistance in Indonesia. They also mostly avoid ascribing artworks to individuals, focussing on Seni Kerakyatan, or “people’s art”, which seeks to prioritise the social messages in the art over the individual popularity of the artist. However their relationship to the gallery world is more complex, as the employment of strategies of resistance in their artistic process is more flexible and changeable than the Beehive Collective’s.

Image 7: Street installation of Taring Padi posters, Jogjakarta, Indonesia.

Image 8: Taring Padi work in banner form at protest, Indonesia.


Image 9: Taring Padi Collective, Farmer Solidarity, Silkscreeen poster from linocut image, 15” X 18”, unsigned/unnumbered. The text reads “Agrarian reform which supports farmers now!” and ” The water-spinach sways, at the edge of the stream, if the farmers are bankrupted, then we won’t have rice to eat”.

Perempuan Merdeka (Freedom For Women)

Image 10: Taring Padi Collective, Perempuan Merdeka (Freedom For Women), Silkscreen poster from linocut image, 15” X 18” , unsigned/unnumbered. The text reads “Freedom For Women! Women of the world, unite and move forward!”

save our earth

Image 11: Taring Padi Collective, Save our Earth, Silkscreen poster from linocut image, 15” X 18”, unsigned/unnumbered. The text reads “Greenhouse effect. Hot!!!”, “Stop stupid industry”, “Make our forests green again”.

Taring Padi create art that deals with issues such as organic farming, farmers’ rights (Image 9), land rights, biodiversity, government complicity in illegal logging, the rights of non-male people (Image 10), environmentalism (Image 11), police brutality and many more. Their works range from traditional gallery exhibitions of printed works to street installations, culture jamming, murals, organisation of protests, participatory works, street performance and whatever approach best suits the specific issue that they want to address; as their artistic processes cannot be separated from their ideology.

While the aesthetics of the group appears to favour primarily print based works, their strategies of exhibition are not limited to traditional gallery spaces. Often their works appear as large black and white woodcut prints installed in the street, subverting the messages of the corporate and political advertisements that they are plastered over (Image 7) or as large banners to be carried during protests or marches (Image 8). They have also printed their work as stickers in the size of the small matchboxes used by vast amounts of people, which they have clandestinely affixed to the matchboxes in kiosks before they are sold. This process allows these small works to be viewed by large amounts of people who might otherwise have limited access to the art world. This is possible through the appropriation of capitalist apparatuses to disseminate their own message. They have also worked on more participatory projects such as the establishment of “posko” or distribution points for food, construction materials and medical supplies in the wake of the devastating earthquake in May, 2006, or the squatting of the former campus of the art school, Intitut Seni Indonesia, creating a living space, community centre, workshop, garden, printmaking studio and gallery space. These projects are good examples of how artists can establish networks of mutual support outside of corporate or state institutions, create communities within which people can feel empowered and have access to the resources necessary for resistance, self expression and self actualisation. In addition to these projects they have also been involved in replanting areas of Java disturbed by deforestation, working with organic farmers on a scarecrow festival, and engaging in the painting of Warung Nasi (food stalls). These stalls would normally feature images of the contents of the menu, and Taring Padi replace these with motifs and information about social justice issues, historical issues and the hidden things of daily life, creating visibility for every day people and bringing these things “back into the open by displaying them on the walls of places people eat every day”[21].


Another model for art as creative resistance is manifested in the art of Australian artist, Yhonnie Scarce who “uses her glass works to tell stories and bear witness”[22]. Her work focuses on the historical and contemporary issues surrounding the ongoing process of colonisation in Australia, including “the trauma of displacement and relocation, the effects of genocide and the social and political effects of colonisation on Indigenous people in Australia”[23]. Her works Weak in Colour But Strong in Blood (Image 12) and Blood on the Wattle (Image 13) deal with mourning and death. They act as memorials to two aspects of Australia’s colonial history that do not feature in mainstream discourses of Australian history, bringing visibility to events that have been rendered invisible by a society desperate to forget its actions and therefore absolve itself of responsibilities and guilt.

Weak In Colour But Strong In Blood

Image 12: Yhonnie Scarce, Weak In Colour But Strong In Blood, 2013–14, blown glass and found components, dimensions variable.

Blood on the Wattle

Image 13: Yhonnie Scarce, Blood on the Wattle, 2013, blown glass and perspex, 210 X 70 X 60cm.

Image 14: (detail) Yhonnie Scarce, Weak In Colour But Strong In Blood, 2013–14, blown glass and found components, dimensions variable.

There are “somewhere between 4,000 and 5,000 public memorials in Australia dedicated to offshore wars and fallen soldiers”[24], and our cities are occupied by statues of white, male, colonial figures such as Captain Cook, Arthur Phillip and Matthew Flinders. In stark contrast, there are only two artworks in public spaces that specifically commemorate Aboriginal massacres or the “forgotten war” of white colonisation of Australia’s original inhabitants. One of these artworks, Fiona Foley’s Witnessing to Silence only came to fruition because she assured its commissioners it was dedicated to sites affected by flood and fire because, in Foley’s words, “most people don’t want to acknowledge these things took place.”[25]

In contrast to this, Scarce’s work, Blood on the Wattle (Image 13), is a memorial to a specific massacre of Indigenous Australians in Elliston, South Australia in 1849, as well as to the incomprehensible number of Indigenous deaths at the hands of European colonisers since 1788 as a result of “disease, displacement, drugs and alcohol, along with massacre, eugenics, violence, deprivation and passive genocide”[26]. The work is physically comprised of a life size perspex coffin holding nearly 300 blown glass black bush yams, representing the dead, “because all bush food makes reference to the body, so the yams represent the elongated form of a corpse”[27].

The work Weak in Colour But Strong in Blood (Image 12) functions similarly as memorial and place of mourning. The installation is about how Western colonisers have “applied inhuman ways to control and speed up the elimination of a ‘primitive’ race such as early 1900’s scientific practices performed by white anthropologists and ethnologists on Indigenous Australian people” [28]. The juxtaposition of the sinister medical equipment with the apparent organic softness of the black fruit (Image 14) evokes the horror of the treatment of these humans as if they were flora or fauna, a consistent theme in both Scarce’s work and the history of Australia.

This practice of creative work as space for memorial, mourning, and education about history forms an important part of the healing process necessary to address some of the damage done by white colonisation. In the words of Tony Albert, a Brisbane artist and Indigenous person it “gives an opportunity for healing and understanding of real history… (and) there’ll be a lot of guilt and hurt that comes along with understanding the massacres that happened here, but that comes along with understanding”[29].


Yet another model of creative practice, comes in the form of the decentralised collective from Sydney in the 1980s known as BUGA UP, or the Billboard Utilising Graffitists Against Unhealthy Promotions. This was “one of the earliest examples of culture jamming in the world, and certainly in Australia”[30]. Through their innovative and humourous creative alterations of tobacco and alcohol billboards (Image 15 and 16), they were a major contributing factor to the banning of billboards advertising tobacco in September 1994[31]. Their model was simple and effective. The collective was completely decentralised, meaning that anyone who creatively altered a billboard and signed it “BUGA UP” was a member, making it impossible for even core members of the movement to know who was creating works, or “hits”, other than those who existed within their immediate social circles. This made it extremely difficult for corporate or state structures to co-opt or infiltrate and disrupt the movement, while making it extremely easy for the movement to grow exponentially, with members spanning many classes, backgrounds and walks of life (Image 17).


Image 15: BUGA UP, Altered Winfield billboard, 1979-1995.


Image 16: BUGA UP, Altered Benson and Hedges billboard, 1979-1995.


Image 17: BUGA UP, Public Billboard Refacing, Saturday, 11am, 1983


Image 18: BUGA UP, How to build a spray can extension rod, http://www.bugaup.org/howto.htm


Since the movement’s inception, many groups from around the world have appropriated the model, strategies, and tactics of BUGA UP in recognition of their impact. Their practice allowed them to create visibility for the issues of tobacco and alcohol’s devastatingly detrimental effects on the body and people’s lives, made invisible by the huge advertising budgets of the alcohol and tobacco industries. Their model, though decentralised, did establish a network of mutual support in the practice of offering funds to anyone caught and prosecuted for a work signed “BUGA UP” to pay 50% of fines with money raised by the movement.[32] The movement rejected the legitimacy of the authority of tobacco companies to dominate public discourse on cigarettes purely on the basis of economic power, and so undermined this domination by subverting the narratives disseminated by these advertising campaigns with their own perspectives, using humour to further disrupt the authority of the billboard. By doing this, they also had the secondary yet significant effect of showing the audience that the objects that represent corporations, and therefore the corporations themselves, were not untouchable. This opened up countless possibilities for creative resistance in the minds of the audience of these works: they could “break down the power of the billboard by answering it”[33]. The possibility of rupturing dominant narratives prescribing the kind of action everyday people could actually take was realised in the practice of BUGA UP, which was extremely empowering. In addition to these strategies, the decentralised nature of their movement made it unlikely that their artworks would be co-opted and recuperated because they did not engage with art markets or galleries, traditional aesthetics or produce art objects that could be sold. Furthermore, by initiating skillshares and workshops and publishing “how-to” manuals (Image 18) in their publications and on their website they empowered others to create the works, equipping them with tools necessary for resistance and self-expression and creating a legacy of art as a form of resistance and a way of “jamming” corporate and commercial culture.


In contrast to this collectivist approach, the work of Chilean American artist Alfredo Jaar is confrontational in a different way. His 1999 work, Lights in the City (Image 19) was primarily a work of visibility. In this installation, approximately a hundred thousand watts of red lights were installed in the Cupola of the Marché Bondecours, a landmark monument in Montreal, while “detonating devices”[34] (Image 20) were placed in the Accueil Bonneau, la Maison Eugénie Bernier and la Maison Paul Gregoire, homeless shelters located within 500 yards of the Cupola[35]. This meant that every time a homeless person entered any of these shelters, they were able to make the huge red light in the Cupola come on. This action was simple and poignant, and shows how artistic choices can unsettle without resorting to direct confrontation. The success of this work in making visible the invisible and undesired, and thereby subverting the dominant narrative espoused by society from which these people are excluded, is evident in the intervention by the commissioning authority in their insistence on premature removal of the work from public space[36]. For the time that it was installed, however, certain people who are made invisible and excluded society had an opportunity to create visibility for themselves, which is a powerful thing for a person who is not supposed to exist.

Image 19: Alfredo Jaar, Lights in the City, 1999, installation in public space, Montreal, Canada.

Image 20: Switch for Lights in the City placed in homeless shelters.


It is interesting to observe how those who are invested in the maintenance of the status quo, and those who benefit from it, become so afraid and angry when it is disrupted. It can be seen in the violent repression of the youth in North America who were part of the “writing” culture of the late 20th century. Youth, especially those from non-white and working class backgrounds, were denied visibility, mobility, power, identity and even acknowledgement in nearly all aspects of society, so they used the inscription of their names upon public space to reclaim those things that were denied them[37]. Accordingly, the state swiftly sought to crush the movement by naming it “vandalism”, increasing security in public spaces, encouraging police violence, especially towards people of colour, and releasing numerous propaganda campaigns seeking to demonise this practice in the minds of the public[38].

The aggressive repression from state, religious and corporate powers of such artists as Pussy Riot, The Yes Men, and ACT UP (The Aids Coalition to Unleash Power) among countless others is a testament to the power of art to rupture, subvert, and dismantle aspects of structural oppression that result from society’s fundamental hierarchies that favour elite groups over the majority of the population. In consistency with the history of state, religious and corporate powers violently suppressing art that resists the status quo, the current regime that presides over the world today continues a long legacy of inadvertently acknowledging the immense power of art as resistance. Just like when Al Gore assured the public of America that the US Chamber of Commerce’s changed position on the threat of climate change was “nothing to do with the Yes Men,”[39] or their powerful performance art piece two weeks earlier, recognition from structural powers in the forms of repression or denial is just a sign that it is working and that it makes them afraid.


The possibilities for creative resistance to the destructive and oppressive structures of power in contemporary Western society are as infinitely diverse as the manifestations of power that it seeks to resist. We have been shown countless times that art is a powerful tool; the challenge only remains to ensure that we are forever critical and self-reflexive, and at least as adaptable, tireless and cunning as those we oppose. In the words of Pussy Riot’s incarcerated but inexorable Nadya Tolokonnikova, “we are jokers, jesters, holy fools”[40].



Bibliography and further reading:


  • Ahearn, C, “Genesis’: In the Hall of Mirrors,” in Born to Use Mics: Reading Nas’s Illmatic, eds. Michael Eric Dyson and Sohail Daulatzai, (New York: Basic Civitas Books, 2010)
  • Art and Activism in the Age of Globalization, ed. Lieven De Cauter, Ruben De Roo, Karel Vanhaesebrouck (Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2011)
  • But is it Art?, ed. Nina Felshin (Seattle: Bay Press, 1995)
  • McIntyre, I, How to Make Trouble and Influence People, (Melbourne: Breakdown Press, 2009)
  • Raunig, G, Art and Revolution: Transversal Activism in the Long Twentieth Century, (Los Angeles: Semiotext(e), 2007)
  • Realizing the Impossible: Art Against Authority, ed. Josh Macphee, Erik Reuland (Edinburgh: AK Press, 2007)



  • Bichlbaum, A, (2009), Yes Men’s Guide to High Level Pranking (Documentary), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhrpSW_pnck
  • Bichlbaum, A, Bonanno, M, (2003), The Yes Men (Documentary)
  • Bichlbaum, A, Bonanno, M, (2009), The Yes Men Fix The World (Documentary)
  • Lerner, M, Pozdorovkin, M, (2013), Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer (Documentary)
  • Milliss, K, (2012), Billboard Bandits (Documentary), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyT23gqjZLU
  • Silver, T, (1983), Style Wars (Documentary)




[1] Meredith Stahl, “Subversive Multiples: A Conversation Between Contemporary Printmakers” from “Realizing the Impossible: Art Against Authority”, p. 104-119

[2] Pete Yahnke, ibid

[3] Meredith Stern, ibid

[4] Roger Peet, ibid

[5] Colin Matthes, ibid

[6] Colin Matthes, ibid

[7] Cindy Milstein, “Reappropriate the Imagination!” from “Realizing the Impossible: Art Against Authority”, p. 297

[8] Meredith Stern, “Subversive Multiples: A Conversation Between Contemporary Printmakers” from “Realizing the Impossible: Art Against Authority”, p. 104-119

[9] Shaun Silfer, ibid

[10] “Who We Are”, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/about-the-hive/who-the-collective-are/

[11] “What We Do”, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/about-the-hive/what-the-collective-do/

[12] ibid

[13] “Free Trade Area of the Americas” Pamphlet: English, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/downloads/narratives/FTAA_narrative-english.pdf

[14] ibid

[15] (Image 1)

[16] “Free Trade Area of the Americas”, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/beehive_poster/free-trade-of-the-americas/

[17] “Free Trade Area of the Americas” Pamphlet: English, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/downloads/narratives/FTAA_narrative-english.pdf

[18] ibid

[19] “What We Do”, Beehive Design Collective, accessed 18/05/2014http://beehivecollective.org/about-the-hive/what-the-collective-do/

[20] ibid

[21] Taring Padi member, “Taring Padi: Under Siege in Indonesia” from “Realizing the Impossible: Art Against Authority”, p.124

[22] “Indigenous Artist: Yhonni Scarce”, Anomoly Photographer

[23] Dione Joseph, “Witness to Our Journey”: Interview with Yhonnie Scarce”

[24] Matilda Surtees, “Lest We Remember”

[25] Fiona Foley, “Lest We Remember”

[26] Yhonnie Scarce, “Yonnie Scarce / Venice 2013”

[27] Yhonnie Scarce, “Witness to Our Journey”: Interview with Yhonnie Scarce”

[28] “Yhonnie Scarce and ‘Weak In Colour But Strong In Blood’, 2014″

[29] Tony Albert, “Lest We Remember”

[30] “B.U.G.A. U.P. Billboard Utilising Graffitists Against Unhealthy Promotions”, BUGA UP, accessed May 05, 2014. http://www.bugaup.org/

[31] Simon Chapman, “Civil Disobedience and Tobacco Control: The Case of BUGA-UP”

[32] “B.U.G.A. U.P. Billboard Utilising Graffitists Against Unhealthy Promotions”, BUGA UP, accessed May 05, 2014. http://www.bugaup.org/

[33] ibid

[34] “Parallels: Alfredo Jaar’s Lights in the City Part 1”

[35] “Parallels: Alfredo Jaar’s Lights in the City Part 1”

[36] Gie Goris, “Looking for Trouble: Appeal for a Radical Activist Art” from “Art and Activism in the age of globalisation”, p.313

[37] Colin L. Anderson, “Going ‘All City’: The Spatial Politics of Graffiti”

[38] “Style Wars”, 1983

[39] “Yes Men Fix The World”, 2009

[40] “Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer”, 2013

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