We are sad to mark the passing of B. Hive. We didn’t know he was even feeling bad…indeed we didn’t even know he was, at all. So imagine our surprise when his epitaph rolled by at 60 m.p.h.
It was accompanied by a burst of color and images surpassing the mundane suburban gallery it rolled through. Of course there was the benign graffiti debasing private property, but beyond that were startling images and script transforming the rusted hulks into a rolling installation.
We know Banksie and his transformational art, but the movement of these efforts past our sight at high speed creates a dynamic we were unprepared for, a kaleidoscopic treat for those stranded at railway crossings, who wait and watch.
