Posters Plaster City With Rampart Protest

A controversial political artist and dozens of cohorts staged an early morning assault Saturday on city bus shelters, utility boxes and construction walls, plastering the objects with hundreds of posters intended to satirize the Rampart Division police scandal.

Repeating an exercise that has been characterized as either political commentary or just plain criminal mischief, Mar Vista artist Robbie Conal and friends posted the handbills throughout Los Angeles, specifically targeting City Hall.

The posters, whose slick, full-color appearance is reminiscent of ads for movies or video games, are based on the Jolly Roger skull and crossbones motif and are intended as a broad commentary on the deepening Rampart scandal, Conal said. The 2-foot-square posters feature a photograph of an LAPD badge that has been digitally altered to look like a grinning skull. Below the skull, whose eye sockets glow a menacing red, are two crossed and flaming police batons. The posters’ only text: “Dis Belief.”

Residents puzzled over the sudden appearance of the posters Saturday, while the Los Angeles Police Department offered no immediate response.

“I don’t know if there’s been any police action on it,” said Guillermo Campos, a department spokesman. “People plaster stuff all over the city all the time. It all depends on how serious it gets.”

Conal, 55, is known nationally for his satirical posters of political figures, most often conservatives. Often the posters are glued to public property under cover of darkness--a tactic that fans call guerrilla art and critics call vandalism.

Early Saturday, as Conal unloaded buckets of paste and rolls of posters from his station wagon and passed them out to about 40 eager assistants, the artist acknowledged that his periodic “posterings” violate municipal codes and that he and others risk citations from the police.

But Conal said this is the only way for an artist to communicate directly with the public. “What this is, is non-sanctioned public art--it’s really about creativity and communication,” he said.

Conal’s view changed drastically, though, toward the end of his postering spree. After plastering traffic-light switching boxes and bus shelters in Hollywood and Echo Park, Conal and friend Patti McGuire eventually found themselves in front of police headquarters downtown. A look of anxiety spread across Conal’s face just as he and McGuire slathered wheat paste over an LAPD recruiting ad on a construction wall in front of the station.

“This is not too smart,” Conal said nervously as he craned his neck in search of police cruisers. “Right here is definitely not too smart.”

Conal and McGuire avoided detection by police. The same couldn’t be said for their handiwork outside Parker Center, though. It was ripped down within hours.

To the artist’s delight and to the frustration of some officials, Conal has never been arrested during his 14 years of postering--but he has been billed $1,300 by the city for the cost of cleaning up his work.

Conal also weathered a call by county Supervisor Michael Antonovich for prosecution nearly seven years ago, when the artist produced a poster about the anniversary of the Rodney G. King beating. That poster featured a flaming police baton and the words “Dis Arm.”

At the time, Antonovich said the posters glorified violence and were mounted illegally. However, charges were never brought against Conal. On Saturday, Antonovich’s office said the supervisor had not seen the latest poster and could not comment.

Before embarking on their postering spree Saturday, Conal’s helpers gathered at a Fairfax district delicatessen to discuss their strategy and pick up copies of the posters, glue buckets and brushes. The volunteers included a mix of students from USC and UCLA, a smattering of high school students, social activists, actors, artists and longtime friends of Conal.

One of those friends, Jan Williamson, said she has been helping Conal mount his posters for seven years. She has yet to be arrested, and offered this theory as to why: “Because we’re white, middle-class and drive nice cars.”

Many hours later, when the posterers had returned home and the sun had risen, other residents caught their first glimpses of Conal’s latest work. Many were stumped.

“I don’t know what to say,” Keith Murrell said as he waited for a bus near City Hall. “I don’t know. It looks kind of militant, you know. It’s definitely something to think about, I’ll say that.”