New York - UNCLE

Features04.2604.26Market Gallery: The Chinatown Apartment Gallery in a Rooftop Shed

Limitations have been acknowledged to assist creativity, almost to the verge of cliché. But such sentiments resonate because, at one point, or in some circumstances, they are true. Sometimes the best camera is the one in your hand.

The New York loft jazz scene of the 1970s offers an example. As the formal jazz economy stopped making enough room for serious avant-garde players – clubs, labels, studios and the wider commercial circuit no longer reliably sustaining that work – musicians began building their own spaces instead, using lofts, apartments, factories and warehouses across Lower Manhattan.

There is something of that lineage in Market Gallery, the Chinatown project founded by Adam Zhu. “Market Gallery is a gallery staged in a shed on my rooftop,” he says. Accessed by walking through his apartment and onto the roof, the space sits above Market Street and has become one of the more distinctive small galleries in downtown New York. That unusual route is part of the point.

“It’s not like I’ve had the doors open to what you might consider the establishment of the art world,” he says. “There’s a difficult space for the middle ground right now. You have your blue-chip galleries and your small galleries, and creating space for artists to express themselves without the pressures of the market is not so easy to come by.”

New York City might feel endless, but despite having a similar-sized population, it actually covers half the size of London. Different cities, different densities, but close enough to make the pressure on space in New York easy to feel. Zhu feels it too. “Space is hard to come by in Manhattan,” he says, “so I knew I needed to take advantage of it.”

That sense of resourcefulness runs through the whole project, but so does the quality that comes from that intimacy. The shed is not being presented as some charmingly ramshackle anti-space. Zhu renovated it properly: white walls, wood floor, a real gallery built from what was available rather than delayed until something bigger or more official came along. Artists including Andrew Kass, Rachel Simon, Lorenzo Amos and Marcus Jahmal have all helped define what the space can do, often whilst Adam is grilling food for guests nearby.

Market Gallery may be hidden above the street, but it has always been shaped by the city below it – by Chinatown, by New York, by the pressures of downtown life, and by an art world in which visibility is never evenly distributed. With UNCLE, work exhibited in the rooftop shed now comes back down onto the street, extending the gallery’s reach without losing the spirit that made it worth paying attention to in the first place.

Because sometimes the best gallery is the shed on your rooftop.

FIRST OFF, COULD YOU INTRODUCE MARKET GALLERY TO SOMEBODY WHO’S NEVER COME ACROSS IT BEFORE?

Adam: It’s an apartment gallery where you have to walk through my apartment to a back roof area, where there’s a shed that we’ve converted into a gallery. The space is in Chinatown and has been a creative space in my home for the last ten-plus years. In summer 2024, I decided to renovate it into a gallery. It was previously a studio, a music studio, storage — it was used for many different things over the years — and kind of got rotted out and fell apart. The recent version is the most elaborate one, where it feels like a gallery: white walls, wood floor.

HOW DID MARKET GALLERY ACTUALLY COME TO BE? WAS THERE A PARTICULAR POINT WHERE YOUR APARTMENT, THE SHED, AND YOUR WIDER CREATIVE WORLD CLICKED INTO SOMETHING THAT FELT LIKE A GALLERY RATHER THAN JUST YOUR OWN SPACE?

Adam: It kind of snowballed. It’s always been a creative space, my house, and the question of what to do with that space started more as: I have to renovate the shed or demolish it, because it’s falling apart and in disuse. My friends who were using it were in a jazz band called Onyx Collective, and they had stopped using it because they had other studio space, but also because it had become quite mouldy and the floor had caved in. I hadn’t personally used it in quite a while and came to this realisation: if I fix this up, what do I do with this space?

I’d always curated shows, and it actually isn’t the first time I’d done something like an art show using my space out there. It kind of became okay, maybe we can have gallery shows out there. It really started as something I thought could be cool for 20 people to 50 people — my friends, basically.

Once I was investing in the construction, it wasn’t until it was nearing completion that I was like, oh — this is real. For me, it was the fact that I have this beautiful space now — and space is hard to come by in Manhattan — so I knew I needed to take advantage of it. Creatively, I was at a crossroads, and I thought this was a great platform for my friends, my community, but also an extension of my practice — something to keep me creatively stimulated, working with artists.

RESOURCEFULNESS FEELS LIKE A RUNNING THEME HERE. MARKET GALLERY CAME OUT OF MAKING SOMETHING SERIOUS AND THOUGHTFUL FROM A RELATIVELY SMALL, UNCONVENTIONAL SPACE. IN NEW YORK, IS THERE PRESSURE TO MAKE EVERY BIT OF SPACE COUNT? HOW MUCH HAS THAT SHAPED THE WAY YOU THINK ABOUT BUILDING A GALLERY?

Adam: I think growing up, even the curations I’ve been a part of, a lot of the shows I’ve been a part of have been on the fringe of DIY or using space in unconventional ways. One of the first group shows I was in was in an abandoned building.

That sensibility of always being like, okay, I have access to this space — how do I use it? — is always how I’ve gone about doing stuff in the creative world. It’s not like I’ve had the doors open to what you might consider the establishment of the art world. This has always been my way of doing things, and it’s how me and my friends do things too: if we have access to a raw space, or a studio, or something, that’s when the ball gets rolling on, okay, let’s do something with this space.

I think that’s a huge part of being a New Yorker and being young and creative when you don’t necessarily have access to real gallery space. My outlook on starting this was definitely from that perspective — how can I do something in the spirit of what we’ve always done, which is just use space, but maybe elevate it a bit and give a real gallery setting within the context of something that is more on the fringe of what that traditionally means, and without the barriers that we typically see in trying to enter those spaces in the art world.

ONE OF THE STRIKING THINGS ABOUT MARKET GALLERY IS THAT IT DOESN’T FEEL OVER-PROFESSIONALISED OR OVER-SANITISED. IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE BEING INVITED INTO SOMEONE’S LIVING ROOM. HOW IMPORTANT IS THAT INTIMACY TO WHAT YOU DO?

Adam: It’s basically integral to it. I always find it important to distinguish that it feels different from your typical small Chinatown gallery, because by nature the experience becomes quite a large part of what the gallery is. You have to go through my apartment, and you end up on my roof area. The gallery itself is quite small, but there’s quite a bit of space to mingle outside, so in that sense it feels more like a happening in a different way than other galleries, where you see the art and mingle under bright lights and end up on the sidewalk.

In this circumstance, you’re in my space. I’m normally cooking or grilling. It has a completely different energy than a lot of stuff I’ve been to, and I think that’s why people have gravitated to it in the way they have, and artists have as well, because it has this element of community and authenticity that is just palpable in the setting itself.

YOU’VE WORKED WITH ARTISTS THROUGH EXHIBITIONS AND RESIDENCIES. ARE THERE ANY PARTICULAR COLLABORATIONS OR SHOWS THAT FEEL ESPECIALLY IMPORTANT IN THE STORY OF MARKET GALLERY SO FAR?

Adam: Every single artist that I’ve included on the posters is an artist that we’ve done solo shows with. Although I’ve curated two other big group shows under Market Gallery, these artists are integral to the narrative because we’ve done solo shows. I could go through each one of them and their importance.

Andrew Kass was the first artist to exhibit there, but he also did the renovation that turned the shed into the gallery, so he’s actually the contractor as well as an artist. Zora Sicher is a very close friend and collaborator over the years — hers was the first winter show, and it showed me that despite the weather we could still make it work out there. We had soup and a fire going.

Every single artist has been important, and they’ve all shown me how they can utilise the space differently. Tucker did a video installation where there was a screen in the back wall that was completely seamless, so there was video and sound. Marcus Jahmal was the first to exhibit sculpture. Amanda Ba kind of reflected the ethos of the space because she showed paintings that were more personal and stylistically different than what she exhibits with bigger galleries.

Then somebody like Alix Vernet — the source material of her work was the actual rooftop floor. After ten years of living there, the floor was caked with tags and layers of paint, and she used resin to actually lift up those layers. That was a milestone in terms of interaction with the space. Rachel Simon, who does the Spider-Man drawings and paintings, was another where I was closely involved in every aspect of the creation of that. Lorenzo is on such a meteoric rise, and is able to link his paintings to a New York lineage. Every single artist has been dear to the narrative of the space, and all of them have shown me what the possibilities are.

I’ve only done solo shows at the shed — the group shows have always been somewhere else — so the chance to work so closely and in-depth with each person has been the best experience of all of this.

IS THERE A PARTICULAR ETHOS OR INSTINCT YOU LOOK FOR IN THE ARTISTS YOU WORK WITH? NOT NECESSARILY IN TERMS OF MEDIUM OR STYLE…

Adam: Beyond my taste in artwork, of course, I’m inviting you into my home, into my space, so there’s something really personal about that. A few things have to align — not only my taste in the work, but also an organic connection. Every single person I work with, I have a personal connection with, which is of course strengthened through the show and working together, but always it’s personal.

I think that’s the through-line: there’s an organicness and a sense of a real relationship between the gallery and the artist. When people ask me, “How’s it going? Collectors, this and that,” the best litmus test of what’s working is my relationship with the artist. The other stuff is not really my forte, though I’m learning. But as an artist, the greatest metric to me of the growth of the gallery is my relationship with artists, and the artists that I respect and admire gravitating towards wanting to work with Market Gallery.

CHINATOWN FEELS CENTRAL TO THE IDENTITY OF THE PROJECT. HOW HAS BEING BASED THERE SHAPED THE ENERGY OF MARKET GALLERY? MORE BROADLY, WHAT DOES CHINATOWN MEAN TO YOU IN 2026? IT’S SUCH A MYTHOLOGISED PART OF NEW YORK, BUT ALSO A REAL NEIGHBOURHOOD UNDER PRESSURE — WHAT KEEPS IT CREATIVELY ALIVE FOR YOU?

Adam: I’ve been living in Chinatown since 2015, but I grew up in the East Village, the Lower East Side, so Chinatown has been part of my life my whole life. Being half Chinese and speaking the language and spending time here has been integral to my identity.

In the ten years I’ve lived in Chinatown, it’s changed quite drastically. My building is almost entirely Chinese still, and the fabric just a few blocks away is now what people call Dimes Square. Obviously, gentrification is felt in the area and has made its way down towards my street, which is Market Street. But there still is a real Chinese community here. The community towards my area of East Broadway is more Fujianese — it’s less touristy. It’s not like Mott Street or west of here. The area here is a deeply rooted community. It’s not just Chinese restaurants — it’s a real community of people that live here.

FROM YOUR PERSPECTIVE, WHAT ARE THE BIGGEST CHALLENGES IN THE CITY’S ART WORLD RIGHT NOW?

Adam: I still consider myself to be an art world outsider for the most part. I think there are a lot of barriers to what might be considered the art world here in New York, and I think Market Gallery is born out of trying to erase some of those barriers between the artists and the gallery.

In the art world at large, there’s a lot of talk about challenges, sales, all these things, and a big need for decentralisation from the establishment. There’s a difficult space for the middle ground right now — you have your blue-chip galleries and your small galleries — and creating space for artists to express themselves without the pressures of the market is not so easy to come by. That’s pretty central to the mission of Market Gallery.

AND ON THE FLIP SIDE, WHAT ARE NEW YORK’S STRENGTHS AT THE MOMENT? WHAT STILL MAKES IT WORTH MAKING WORK THERE?

Adam: New York is historically and currently one of the most special places creatively. What makes New York uniquely special is how interconnected and interactive it is — how you walk out your front door and you’re exposed to all different cultures, walks of life, and the melting pot that it is. It creates a less insular environment and allows for expression and creativity.

One of the biggest threats to that is gentrification and rising prices for everything. Artists can’t survive, really, and even big establishments are struggling, so you can only imagine how artists are doing. That’s kind of the struggle of creating in New York — how much you might have to compromise to have success commercially. But what’s great about New York is the sense of community and the creative spirit, and the resourcefulness — within those constraints, the creativity that comes from that is also incredibly special.

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE THE WORK OUT OF THE GALLERY AND ON THE STREET WITH THIS COLLAB?

Adam: It’s really special, and I think it reflects the ethos of the gallery very well, because the way we go about things is not like a traditional gallery. It aligns super well with the way that we have this adjacency to the street, and even street and graffiti culture, which has been part of my space since I moved there.

There’s something guerrilla about the way we do things in the first place, so this street-level visibility — especially considering we are invisible at street level, we’re not a storefront gallery — is always a special opportunity to take. Being a New Yorker, and with a lot of the artists I’ve shown being New Yorkers, that presence streetside is always something striking. It would be unconventional for a typical gallery, but it aligns well with what we’re doing at Market.

WHAT’S THE LONG-TERM VISION FOR MARKET GALLERY?

Adam: It’s a difficult one. I’ve actually been struggling with this question myself, because as it grows, I’m not sure it can, in five years, exist purely in my space or in the shed. That being said, I don’t necessarily see myself opening up a typical brick-and-mortar gallery, but you never know — maybe that is the path.

Or maybe it is continuing to grow the different aspects of it: the branding aspect, the print aspect, the remote ways of doing shows abroad or in different spaces. I’m always eager about growth outside of my apartment, and what that might look like in five years is very unclear, but I’m open to wherever this project takes me, because it’s become my sole focus basically. What’s clear is that it needs to grow past the confinement of my apartment, which it has already, but in what capacity is still unclear.

“Finish this sentence: I take photos because…”

While the photographers, tempo and locations change from episode to episode, this is the one line you’ll always hear in Walkie Talkie — the street-photography YouTube series founded by Paulie B, real name Paul Baldonado.

Born and raised in Washington D.C., Paulie grew up as the kid who excelled in art class — always drawing, always seeing visually. He started taking photos in the Tumblr era, borrowing his sister’s DSLR before falling deeper into photography during a nine-to-five job in his twenties. After moving to Chicago, he made a rule for himself: take one picture every day for a year. That discipline — paired with the city’s architecture and rhythm — shaped his eye. But it was New York’s unrelenting pace that really pulled him in. The move in 2019 gave him what he calls “the energy my shutter finger was searching for.”

What makes Walkie Talkie unique isn’t just what comes out of it, but the honesty with which it’s shown. There are no guarantees of “the shot.” Some days yield nothing, some days give everything — but the cameras keep rolling. As Paulie puts it, “this is what it’s really like being a street photographer in New York and having conversations with this community that I have.”

Through a new collaboration with UNCLE, that same community is taking over the streets once again — or more precisely, the walls. As Paulie rolls out a rebrand for the channel alongside a new run of videos, work from Walkie Talkie-featured photographers has been wildposted across New York.

Across its run, Walkie Talkie has featured a wide cross-section of photographers shaping the medium today — from Trevor Wisecup to Martha Cooper, to Jas Leon, Mark A. Portillo and Kazu Nakajima who all feature in the wildposting campaign. Each brings their own rhythm, philosophy and city soundtrack to the frame, turning the series into an evolving record of street photography’s present moment.

For Paulie, that moment has come full circle. The work born on the streets finds its way back there, free of galleries and glass. It’s an affirmation of what Walkie Talkie has always stood for: photographers who keep shooting, and keep showing up on the street.

In conversation with UNCLE, Paulie B reflects on the making of Walkie Talkie, the philosophy behind it, and why, even after all these years, the answer to that familiar question still feels the same.

WERE THERE ANY EARLY INFLUENCES — PHOTOGRAPHERS, ARTISTS, OR EVEN FILMS — THAT SHAPED HOW YOU SEE THE WORLD THROUGH A LENS?

One of the first big influences for me was actually a film — the Vivian Maier documentary. I remember watching it and thinking, oh, this is something that’s been done before — people have been out there, documenting life, photographing strangers, just observing the world as it is. It gave me a sense of history, that what I was doing was part of a much bigger story.

From there, I started digging deeper, meeting other photographers, and learning about figures like Fan Ho and Gary Winogrand. Early on I was really into Fan Ho — the way he used light and geometry, how every shot felt so deliberate. But over time, Winogrand became the main influence for me. He’s been a constant ever since I discovered him.

At first, it was about the images themselves, but now it’s more about his philosophy — his attitude towards taking pictures. He just wanted to be outside shooting, every day, without overthinking it. There’s a relentlessness in that approach that I really connect with.
Winogrand talked about how you should risk failure every time you take a photo, and that stuck with me. Most of what I shoot doesn’t work out — there’s a lot of “crap,” as he would say — but that’s part of it. You’re supposed to put yourself in a position to fail a little bit every time, because that’s how you grow. That mindset really shaped how I see photography, and it’s what keeps me out there walking and shooting every day.

LET’S TALK ABOUT WALKIE TALKIE. HOW DID THE IDEA FIRST COME ABOUT, AND WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO BRING STREET PHOTOGRAPHY TO YOUTUBE?

Street photography videos already existed on YouTube, but Walkie Talkie really came out of what was already happening in my life. I’d spend miles and miles walking every day through New York City with other photographers, having conversations — sometimes about photography, sometimes about life in general. I thought, it would be interesting if people could listen in on that. It’s kind of like a podcast, but visual, and grounded in the streets.

For me, New York has always felt like the mecca of street photography, but the stuff I saw online didn’t reflect what I was actually seeing and experiencing here in real life. The culture, the people, the rhythm — it was all different. So I wanted to bring that authenticity online. This is what it’s really like being a street photographer in New York and having conversations with this community that I have. It’s my way of showing people the energy and honesty of what’s happening here every single day.

WHAT DOES THE ACT OF WALKING MEAN TO YOU IN RELATION TO YOUR WORK? THERE’S SOMETHING MEDITATIVE ABOUT YOUR VIDEOS — HOW DO WALKING AND SHOOTING CONNECT FOR YOU?

For me, walking is the whole thing. The way I practise street photography, it’s a game of effort. Most of what you shoot isn’t going to work out — that’s just how it is. So the more you walk, the more you see, the more chances you give yourself to make something.

If you take a hundred photos in an hour, ninety-nine might be bad. But if you walk for two or three hours, that’s a few hundred chances instead of a hundred. It’s not a perfect ratio, but the effort compounds. The more you put in, the more you get out. You have to be outside, you have to make yourself available, and you have to be willing to accept whatever comes your way. Some days nothing happens, some days you find magic — but you won’t know unless you keep walking.

DID YOU EXPECT IT TO GROW INTO SUCH A BIG, LONG-RUNNING SERIES, OR DID IT START AS MORE OF AN EXPERIMENT?

I had a feeling it would do well. Obviously I had doubts, but I also had this gut sense that it was going to connect with people. Like we talked about, New York is the mecca of street photography, and people everywhere are interested in what’s happening here — not just in photography, but across all creative practices. So giving them a peek behind that door felt like something that would resonate.

Early on, I was getting maybe a thousand views per Walkie Talkie, two thousand, three thousand — but I just knew. I had to keep that mindset, even through the ups and downs of YouTube. One thing I’ve learned from listening to successful people in other fields is that they all share this undenying thought that they’re going to make it. They don’t hope; they know. That really stuck with me.

So even when the numbers were low, I just kept telling myself, I know this is going to work. People probably think I’m raking it in, but I’m really not — I’m still convincing myself it’s going to work. But I have to keep that faith. You make a decision, and then you make it right. That’s the mindset. It’s all going to work out.

YOU’VE SAID BEFORE THAT YOU’RE AS INTERESTED IN THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE CAMERA AS THE IMAGES THEMSELVES. WHAT KIND OF CONVERSATIONS DO YOU TRY TO HAVE WHEN YOU’RE OUT FILMING?

I think Walkie Talkie really brings forward the person behind the camera more than anything. It shows the thought and the work that goes into taking a picture — because in some episodes, you’ll notice there aren’t that many photos being taken. That’s not because someone isn’t a good photographer; sometimes there’s just nothing happening. We don’t control that. We can’t control when good photos or interesting moments appear — we all just start walking, and whatever happens, happens.

What speaks to one photographer might not speak to another, and that’s part of what I love showing. It highlights how different people respond to the same city in completely different ways. It also shows how much work it actually takes — it can take days, even months, to get one photo you’re proud of. I’m only filming for a single day, so I hope Walkie Talkie helps people see that process — the mindset, the work ethic, and the thoughts behind taking pictures.

HOW DO YOU ACTUALLY FIND THE PHOTOGRAPHERS YOU WORK WITH — AND WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR WHEN DECIDING WHO TO FEATURE NEXT?

There are a couple of ways I go about it. When I travel to a new city, I’ll usually reach out to photographers I already know there and ask them to name three people who really represent the community right now. I’ll do that with five or six people, and once I start seeing the same names come up, I know who to reach out to. That overlap usually tells me who’s active, respected, and pushing things forward.
Here in New York, it’s a little different because I’m so embedded in the scene. I’m out on the streets a lot, watching who’s around, whose work keeps showing up, who’s putting in the effort day in and day out. Over time you develop a sense for who’s genuinely dedicated — the people who are doing it for the love of it, not just for likes or followers. I like to feature people who’ve been out there for at least a couple of years and still have that fire. Street photography can be really cyclical; a lot of people drift in and out. But the ones who stay consistent are the ones I want to spotlight.

THERE’S ALSO A BIT OF EMPHASIS ON THE GEAR PEOPLE USE — THE CAMERAS, THE LENSES, THE SETUPS. WHAT’S YOUR TAKE ON THAT SIDE OF IT? DO YOU BUY INTO THE IDEA THAT “THE BEST CAMERA IS THE ONE IN YOUR HAND”?

Honestly, I only started asking about gear because people in the comments got mad that I wasn’t. Personally, I don’t care that much. Most of the time people are using similar cameras anyway, especially in New York, and that’s usually because they’ve tried something a friend uses and it just works for them.

Gear matters to a certain extent, but I think what people really mean when they say “the best camera is the one in your hand” is that you need to find what works for you. For some people that’s a rangefinder, for others it’s an SLR, or even medium format. You just have to find something that doesn’t get in your way — a camera that feels natural, that lets you shoot without overthinking.

For me, it’s about what’s effective and efficient. Effective meaning it gives you the kind of image you want, and efficient meaning it reduces friction — it lets you move and react without hesitation. Budget’s part of that too. Some cameras are expensive, but if it’s the one that fits your flow and makes you want to go out shooting, then it’s worth it.

AS WELL AS COMMENTS ABOUT EQUIPMENT, A LOT OF COMMENTS UNDER WALKIE TALKIE TALK ABOUT HOW INSPIRING THE EPISODES ARE — PEOPLE CREDIT YOU WITH GETTING THEM OUT SHOOTING AGAIN. HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL?

That feels amazing, honestly. There’s this Kobe Bryant quote I think about a lot — he talks about how greatness isn’t just about what you achieve, it’s about your ability to inspire others, who then go on to inspire even more people. So when I see comments from someone saying they picked up their camera again because of Walkie Talkie, that really hits me.

It’s wild to think that someone could watch a video, go out that same day, and take the best photo of their life — and that maybe, in some small way, I helped spark that. That’s the kind of ripple effect you dream of. You put this work out into the world, not really knowing who it’s going to reach or how it’ll land, and then you start to see it actually motivate people to create. That’s the best feeling there is.

YOU’VE BUILT THIS ENTIRE PLATFORM AROUND THE STREETS — AND NOW YOUR IMAGES ARE LITERALLY GOING TO BE ON THE STREETS THROUGH THIS UNCLE WILDPOSTING CAMPAIGN. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO SEE WALKIE TALKIE PLASTERED ACROSS THE SAME KIND OF WALLS WHERE SO MUCH OF YOUR WORK BEGINS?

It feels really natural — almost poetic. The work was made on these streets, and now it’s being put back into that same environment. It’s not hanging in a gallery or someone’s living room; it’s out in public, part of the city again. These posters could get torn down, tagged over, or end up in the background of someone else’s photo — and I love that. That’s what street photography is. You never know what’s going to happen out there, and that same uncertainty is what makes it exciting.
So to have Walkie Talkie plastered across New York feels right. It closes the loop. It’s like the series is returning to where it came from — the walls, the pavements, the chaos, the energy. It’s all part of the same story.

NEW YORK PLAYS SUCH A HUGE ROLE IN YOUR VIDEOS — NOT JUST AS A BACKDROP BUT AS A CHARACTER. HOW DO YOU SEE THE CITY TODAY AS A PLACE TO LIVE AND CREATE? DO YOU THINK IT STILL HAS THE SAME ENERGY THAT MADE IT THE CAPITAL OF STREET PHOTOGRAPHY, OR HAS THAT CHANGED?

New York will always be a breeding ground for creativity. It’s still the epicentre — always ahead of the curve. When I see trends starting here in the photo community, I know I’ll see them popping up in other cities two or three years later. Everything happens a little faster here. The pace, the density, the diversity — it forces you to adapt, to stay alert.

That said, it has changed. I don’t know if it’s me getting older or just the times, but pre-COVID New York felt a bit more random, more eclectic. You could turn a corner and stumble into something special. Now it feels a little more contained, even though the foot traffic’s back. But the diversity is what keeps it interesting — you can walk one block and hear five languages, see ten different worlds intersecting. That constant shift is what keeps the city alive, and it’s what makes it the best place in the world for street photography.

THE SERIES OFTEN HIGHLIGHTS NOT JUST ART, BUT SOCIOLOGY — WHO OCCUPIES PUBLIC SPACE, HOW PEOPLE INTERACT, WHAT THE CITY GIVES BACK. HOW CONSCIOUS ARE YOU OF THAT SOCIAL LAYER WHEN YOU’RE FILMING? AND WHAT’S YOUR TAKE ON THE WIDER MOMENT STREET PHOTOGRAPHY IS IN RIGHT NOW?

When I’m filming Walkie Talkie, I’m usually focused on the flow of the conversation, not tripping over myself, keeping the person in frame — all those small things that make it work. So in the moment, I’m not always thinking about the sociology of what’s happening around us. But when I go back and watch the footage, I notice how much those layers matter — who’s in the background, what they’re wearing, what’s being built or torn down. It’s all a reflection of the city as it is right now.

That’s why I’ll take photos of things like construction sites or people on their phones. It might not seem interesting at the time, but years from now, that stuff will tell a story about how we lived. Everyone’s always chasing “timeless” photos, trying to make something that looks like it’s from another era — but I think everything becomes nostalgic if you give it time. You just have to document what’s in front of you, because in fifty years, those moments will be the time capsule.

As for the wider scene, I think it’s shifting. A few years back, everyone was obsessed with making everything candid — no eye contact, no interaction — but now people are more relaxed about that. There’s less gatekeeping about what “counts” as street photography, and that’s a good thing. The only real frustration I ever hear is people worrying too much about what others think. My attitude’s always been: just go have fun, take the pictures you want to take.

And when it comes to photography in the bigger picture — in this digital, algorithm-driven world — I think it comes down to why you do it. For some people, it’s about validation, likes, engagement. But the ones I connect with are the ones who do it because they have to — because if they don’t, they feel off balance. I think those are the real photographers.

We don’t know what will tell the story of our time — maybe it’ll be the artful street photos, maybe it’ll be TikToks and day-in-the-life videos — but that’s not the point. The point is to make work because you need to. To go out, walk, and pay attention. To me, that’s what keeps the whole thing alive.

WHAT’S NEXT FOR YOU AND WALKIE TALKIE — WHERE DO YOU WANT TO TAKE IT FROM HERE?

We’re rebranding everything with new visuals, new logos, and there’ll be things that branch off from it — merch, zines, other projects that build around the community. The core of it will always stay the same though: conversations with photographers, out on the street, in the places where the work actually happens.
New York will always be the home base because that’s where it was born, but I’m also continuing the “around the U.S.” version and growing the global side. I’ve already done places like Rome and the Philippines, and next year I want to hit four or five international cities. It’s just hard to travel as much as I’d like now that I’ve got two small kids — but I still want to keep pushing it forward and showing how different cities live and breathe through photography.

COMPLETE THIS PHRASE: I TAKE PHOTOS BECAUSE…

I take photos because it fills my cup. Every time I hit the shutter, it’s like taking a sip of water — it keeps me alive. When I’m not shooting, I feel empty, restless, almost dehydrated. I don’t know if I could live without it at this point.

There’s also another side to it that’s a bit more personal. When I first started out, I told a friend I wanted to be one of the greats — not even really knowing what that meant yet. I just knew I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, something that lasts. Photography, and now Walkie Talkie, gives me a way to do that. It’s how I leave an imprint — on people, on culture, on the world around me. That’s why I take photos.

Missing teeth. Devil horns. Moustaches. SUBWAYMOUTHS.

For most, the graffiti’d advertisements of the New York City underground is just vandalism, often rejected and dismissed. For Gabriel, who has spent the past decade or so documenting these #SUBWAYMOUTHS, they offer insight into New York City’s attitude.

Born in Mexico City, and now a resident of New York, Gabriel has always “gravitated in the art orbit”. He describes his childhood-home as being full of objects made by hand, with a camera always close by.

In the 80s, Gabriel and his cousins would send letters to the all-American corporations such as Coca Cola, Pepsi, The Dodgers, asking for any kind of “advertising swag”. Most wouldn’t reply. But every now and then, he and his cousins would receive stickers in the mail that they would trade between one another. One day, a red Marlboro cigarettes trucker hat showed up. Jackpot.

Now a professional in branding, photography, and design, it’s those stories, he tells UNCLE, where it all began.

Before FIVEINCHMONSTERS, there was #SUBWAYMOUTHS, a project that began the day Gabriel moved to New York City. Twelve years on, it continues as both a daily artistic practice and a documentation of the city’s collective consciousness.

What follows is a conversation with Gabriel, to coincide with the emergence of these FIVEINCHMONSTERS – out of the subway and into the streets of New York, thanks to UNCLE.

CAN YOU INTRODUCE YOURSELF IN YOUR OWN WORDS?

Mexayorkino since 2005, profesional del branding, fotografía y diseño. Descubridor empedernido de los detalles urbanos y obsesionado con los tratamientos e intervenciones espontáneos naturales y provocadas que suceden en día a día en las superficies de NYC. Por último self-proclaimed Transcultural visual Translator – Traductor visual transcultural – this last has to do with my eternal love of my mexicanidad, mis moles y mis mezcales.

Mexayorkino since 2005, a professional in branding, photography, and design. A tireless discoverer of urban details and obsessed with both spontaneous and intentional surface treatments and interventions that occur daily across NYC. Lastly, a self-proclaimed Transcultural Visual Translator — a title that speaks to my eternal love for my Mexican heritage, my moles, and my mezcales.

YOU REFERENCE NEW YORK AS A SOURCE OF INSPIRATION. CAN YOU TOUCH ON THIS AND HOW IT DIFFERS FROM MEXICO CITY?

I don’t think I could say in good faith that I know the CDMX of the NOW the way I live and Respiro my NYC. Nueva york es complejo y candido. Romantico y Salvaje, Demandante y Dadivoso. Nueva York te quita y te da! NYC is the city that you go to reinvent yourself and for many the city where you left your other self before reinventing the one that leaves the city happy knowing how much it learned on its way out. If you ask me what the difference is, I will say: “EVERYTHING… as it should be!”. I am ever grateful to have lived in both cities during different formative times in my life. Mexico nurtured me and Nueva York allowed me to be the human that I am.

New York is complex and candid. Romantic and wild, demanding and generous. New York takes from you—and gives back!

CAN YOU TELL US A BIT ABOUT YOUR BACKGROUND AND HOW YOU FIRST GOT INTO ART AND DESIGN? WHAT WERE SOME EARLY INSPIRATIONS OF YOURS?

I have always gravitated in the ART orbit. There was always a camera and photos being taken, just documenting life. My home was a ‘DIY-everything’ type of home. So, it was never strange to make things out of random objects. We travelled a lot by car, and I was able / forced to see the world differently, time elongates and warps when you are a kid in a truck for twenty-seven hours. Details become stories and you create full universes in your head. My mother’s side of the family lives in Culiacan Sinaloa and that is also part of my (norteño) history. I don’t think I ever said this out loud, but a defining moment was in the early 80s – my older cousins sent letters via snail mail to corporations like Pepsi, Coors, the Dodgers, the USA Olympic Committee 1984, asking for any kind of swag. Apparently, this was a thing with all their friends. There was a paragraph in English that was passed along, transcribed letter by letter, and FYI, no one knew English. So, this makes it even more Mexican – if you know, you know – and the result was that months later, from the dozens of letters you sent, one will send you back the wildest most American advertisement swag. From the highly valuable and tradable stickers to crazy things like a Marlboro cigarettes red trucker hat. I mention all of this because your question makes me realise this is where my love for branding design and advertising started. They had the door of their room covered with stickers and I always thought that was the coolest thing on earth. Years later I discovered by mere casualty the beginnings of what became El Sensacional Mexicano project.

I found myself in a underground parking lot in CDMX then DF, looking at people hand painting rótulos of Mexican slang phrases, this was right around my first years studying graphic design and it changed everything and allowed me to see the same design and work that I admire on the stickers from Culiacan but now in my own city and in my own language with the strength that only hand painted letters can achieve. This allowed me to develop my own graphic style and pay my education doing silkscreen jobs and wearables. Fast forward a few years, this took me to the FWM (The Fabric Workshop and Museum) apprenticeship in Philadelphia and eventually to live in NYC.

HOW DID FIVE INCH MONSTERS BEGIN? DO YOU REMEMBER THE FIRST #SUBWAYMOUTHS YOU PHOTOGRAPHED?

It began the moment I moved to NYC. It was the first thing I noticed going down the stairs to the subway station. The #SUBWAYMOUTHS were impossible not to notice. Larger than life, right at the height of your face. Purposely designed to hit that stop of attention, whether you wanted it or not.

FIM took a little longer to collect. Every day observing, analysing my surroundings, everything was new and needed something to make sense of it. FIM had a few transformations from products (toys) to silkscreen fashion ideas – to become the artistic daily practice of documenting “the everything” around me.

WHAT DO THESE DRAWN MOUTHS, OFTEN ANGRY, GROTESQUE OR PLAYFUL, SAY ABOUT THE ATTITUDES OF NEW YORK?

This is something that I am constantly aware of but I don’t think it has a final answer; the #SUBWAYMOUTHS are always ever-changing. They do show a snapshot of the time we live in, often political and highly socially conscious. I would describe them as never-ending New York attitudes, Nueva Yorks has too many personalities to pigeonhole it into one.

THE PROJECT IS ALMOST LIKE A VISUAL DIARY OF THE CITY’S COLLECTIVE SUBCONSCIOUS. WOULD YOU AGREE?

It is and documenting it has always been its intention. I was and still am mesmerized by what it communicates in silence, in your face, with their unapologetic truths. And seeing them all together for the first time printed at the CHOLITA cafe show in June 2025 gave them the collective freedom that allowed the connection with UNCLE. They now peek out of their long-term-residency with Instagram.

WHAT THEMES OR PATTERNS HAVE EMERGED OVER TIME IN THE MOUTHS THAT PEOPLE DRAW? CAN YOU DRAW PARALLELS WITH THE ‘MONSTERS’ AND WHAT IS HAPPENING AROUND THE WORLD?

Patterns are everywhere and #SUBWAYMOUTHS are not an exception. The black tooth, dick on mouth, ripped-torn-scratched-destroyed-bullied-empty surfaces… It all sounds familiar and to me, it resembles and describes the social problems of major metropolitan cities.

DO YOU SEE THIS AS AN ART MOVEMENT, SOCIAL COMMENTARY, OR BOTH?

FIM is my personal artistic daily practice. But I am sure as the posts in the subway disappear, these may one day be studied, and their messages will be louder and amplified. Years ago, a friend of a friend of mine, a teacher, gave a class at an NYC university and used FIM as a reference of continuity and longstanding urban documentation and art practice.

WHAT HAS IT BEEN LIKE TO WITNESS THE PROJECT’S EVOLUTION ACROSS SO MANY YEARS? WHAT HAS IT TAUGHT YOU ABOUT NEW YORK, OR ABOUT PEOPLE IN GENERAL?

People throughout history like leaving their mark and people get bored quickly. As for FIM, there is an expiration date, the boards are being removed as I write this and their day as #SUBWAYMOUTHS are numbered. I probably need to look UP again.

WHY DO YOU THINK THE SUBWAY, AND NOT THE STREET, IS SUCH FERTILE GROUND FOR THIS KIND OF ARTISTIC EXPRESSION?

This happens everywhere, I just happened to narrow it down to the subway as a documenting subject, as their size and form were more standard and the encounters were inevitable. Capturing this on the street is more about timing. And as you guys know well, this is the bread and butter for wildposting in NYC.

THIS WHOLE PROJECT SEEMS QUITE POETIC. FROM TRADITIONAL ADVERTISEMENTS IN THE SUBWAY, TO NOW BEING FLYPOSTED ABOVE GROUND THROUGHOUT NEW YORK. IS THIS WHAT YOU ENVISIONED OF THE PROJECT WHEN YOU STARTED DOCUMENTING IT BACK IN 2013?

In all honesty, this is just magical and has allowed me and the #SUBWAYMOUTHS permission to dream bigger. So, I see this just as the beginning.

VIDA ETERNA A LAS SUBWAYMOUTHS! And many more reinventions for FIVEINCHMONSTERS GRACIAS TOTALES.

www.ggvz.nyc
www.instagram.com/fiveinchmonsters

How Bushwick’s Zodiac-Themed Bar Embodies New York Nightlife

Plenty of places throw parties, plenty more serve drinks. But the ones that matter – the ones that actually feel like they belong to a city – are something else entirely. Maybe it’s the music, or even the lack thereof. Maybe it’s the faces behind the bar, or the heads that turn towards the door when you walk in. Or maybe it’s something less tangible – a feeling that this place isn’t just a setting, but an active part of the experience itself.

Mood Ring – a ten-minute walk from the centre of the Bushwick universe, Myrtle Ave and Broadway – is one such place. Open since 2017, it’s carved out its own space in New York’s nightlife, balancing the intimacy of a neighbourhood bar with the energy of a club that feeds the underground.

The zodiac-themed cocktails are the initial hook. “Virgo seeks discounted drinks from August 22nd to September 23rd.” But astrology alone doesn’t keep people coming back. What does is a space that constantly shifts with the city – a venue shaped by the people who run it, rather than a corporate identity rubber-stamped across multiple locations.

That flexibility allows it to be reactive in ways larger venues can’t. Its recent Valentine’s event, for example, a staple in their calendar as the bar’s theme and recent wildposting campaign with UNCLE would suggest – raised funds for those affected by the LA fires. They don’t have to wait for approval from a boardroom to make things happen. They’re defined by the people who fill them, from the DJs on the decks to the regulars perched at the bar, and the connection they foster extends far beyond a transaction.
There’s also the bigger picture – the role that a venue like this plays in a city’s ecosystem. “If the only places to play are massive clubs with big fees and bigger expectations, you’re skipping a whole part of the process,” says co-founder Bowen Goh. Mood Ring, like other small venues, is where artists cut their teeth, where new sounds emerge, and where a DJ can experiment with an audience that’s open to the unexpected. Without places like this, the grassroots pipeline collapses.

And yet, in a city where rising rents and shifting trends force independent venues to fight for survival, Mood Ring keeps evolving. Like its ever-changing cocktail menu, the space adapts to the season, the moment, and the people who walk through its doors. Call it fate, call it intuition – whatever it is, it’s working.

Can you introduce yourself and Mood Ring?

Bowen Goh: I’m one of the founders of Mood Ring. We opened in 2017, and over the years, we’ve evolved into a bar and club that’s home to a lot of New York’s underground and up-and-coming artists. We started out with more of a house music focus, but as the scene has grown, so has our programming. We try to be a dynamic space—always shifting with what the city and its people want.

What was the original vision for the space, and how has it evolved?

We actually didn’t set out to open a club. The initial idea was a small restaurant, but my business partner was really involved in the underground techno scene. We took a trip to Berlin, and after a few nights out there, the idea of opening a club just felt right. Back home, there was a gap in Bushwick for something on the lighter side of the dance spectrum—not full-on heavy techno, but something with a bit more house music. We saw that opportunity and ran with it.

At first, we didn’t even plan to throw as many events as we do now, but the demand was immediate. We got a little press early on because of our astrology concept, and from there, things snowballed. The DJs came, the crowds followed, and we kept making improvements—better sound, a proper booth, more intentional bookings. Mood Ring just grew into itself.

Mood Ring has a strong astrology theme. What inspired that?

Astrology was just something that felt natural to us. Before we even opened, we saw how much people loved talking about it—especially in nightlife, where you’re constantly meeting new people. Asking someone their sign is an easy icebreaker, and we wanted the space to feel like that—somewhere you can strike up a conversation with a stranger without it feeling weird.

It also gave us a way to keep things fresh. We have a rotating cocktail menu based on the zodiac calendar, and over the years, we’ve constantly updated the space’s look and feel. We even put out an astrology-themed cocktail book, which was a fun way to extend the concept beyond the bar.

And how does the astrology theme influence the overall atmosphere at moodring?

The theme was never just a gimmick—it became part of the culture of the place. You’ll see people asking each other about their signs within minutes of meeting. It’s funny because, even if you don’t care about astrology, someone in the room will. It creates this shared language that people can tap into, whether they take it seriously or just use it as a fun way to connect.
Beyond the cocktails, we’ve always treated Mood Ring as a space that shifts and evolves—kind of like how people see astrology as being tied to cycles and change. We update the decor, switch things up seasonally, and try to keep the energy feeling fresh. I think that’s why people keep coming back—there’s always something a little different, even if it’s subtle.

Mood Ring has become a hub for djs and electronic music. What’s your approach to programming and curating events?

Bowen Goh: From the start, we wanted to offer something different from what was already out there. Right across the street, you’ve got Bossa Nova Civic Club, which has been a staple for heavier techno. So, when we were setting up Mood Ring, we leaned toward the other end of the spectrum—more house, something a little lighter, more groove-driven. At the time, there wasn’t much of that in Bushwick, and it just made sense to carve out that space.

Over time, we’ve expanded to include club music, Latin nights, and other genres that reflect what people in the city are gravitating toward. But we always keep the core of it intact—it’s about energy, movement, and making sure the space stays fresh.

Mood Ring feels like an incubator for up-and-coming artists. Do you see it as a stepping stone for djs on their way to bigger venues?

Yeah, that’s something that’s just naturally happened. We’re a small venue, so we’ve always attracted underground talent—DJs who are on the come-up, trying things out, and building their following. Some of the artists who’ve played here have gone on to much bigger stages, but a space like ours is where they get that first real connection to a crowd.

I think a lot of people don’t realize how important that is. If the only places to play are massive clubs with big fees and bigger expectations, you’re skipping a whole part of the process. Small venues like Mood Ring are where DJs test out new sounds, build a vibe, and figure out who their audience is. We’ve had plenty of nights where you just know someone’s about to blow up. It’s a good feeling, seeing that progression and knowing we’re part of that pipeline.

How do you balance keeping things fresh while staying true to the space’s original vision?

We try to keep our ear to the ground. As much as we have our own tastes, it’s about what people in the scene are excited about. Some of the best nights we’ve had have come from just trusting the right people—whether that’s resident DJs who understand the crowd or collectives that bring something new to the space.

At the same time, we don’t want to overextend. We built this space with a clear vibe in mind, and while we’ve branched out, we always come back to the idea that Mood Ring is meant to be intimate, energetic, and a bit different from everywhere else. That’s what’s kept us going all these years.

Nightlife and club culture are in constant flux. From your perspective, what’s the biggest challenge for independent venues in nyc right now?

Bowen Goh: The biggest challenge is survival, honestly. Everything keeps getting more expensive—rent, insurance, staff wages, liquor, even just the cost of running a sound system. But that doesn’t necessarily mean more money is coming in. People are going out less often, and when they do, they’re more selective about where they spend their money.

A lot of that comes down to how nightlife changed after COVID. Right after the lockdowns, there was this explosion—people were out constantly, drinking, partying. But then came the backlash, where people started cutting back, drinking less, and being more mindful of how they spend their nights out.

Bushwick has undergone major changes over the years. How have you seen gentrification impact the neighborhood and the nightlife scene?

It’s changed a lot, even just in the time we’ve been here. A lot of people moved here because rent was cheap, and that led to an explosion of bars, clubs, and creative spaces opening up.
Now, it’s shifting again. Rents have gone up, more luxury apartments are being built, and that always changes the kind of people moving in. A lot of the older spots have closed, and you see nightlife becoming more polished—more corporate, in some cases. It’s not necessarily a bad thing to have new places opening, but when independent venues start disappearing, it affects the whole culture.

What’s your favorite thing about New York?

It’s a cliché, but the energy here is unmatched. Everyone’s here to make something happen—whether that’s in music, art, food, whatever. You can feel it when you’re out. People don’t just go through the motions; they’re putting real intent behind what they do. That keeps things exciting, even when the city itself can be exhausting.

What’s one standout night at moodring that has stuck with you?

One that really stands out was right before the COVID lockdowns. We were doing a party with musclecars for their two-year anniversary, and you could just feel it in the air—everyone was in the moment, dancing, balloons flying everywhere, no one worrying about anything outside that room.

At the time, we had no idea things were about to shut down, but looking back, that night feels like a perfect snapshot of what we love about Mood Ring. It’s those moments where you look around and realize you’ve built something that brings people joy. That’s what makes it worth all the stress of running a venue in this city.

Event photo credits David Brandon Geeting & Lina Sun Park.

“Art is our chance to turn intangible things into tangibles.”

What does it take to release 10 albums of music?

It’s not a question we put to MIKE directly, but his latest studio album, Showbiz!, serves as its own answer. Still only in his mid-twenties, the Brooklyn-based artist has lived a lot of life, and his commitment to the belief that music should be a lived experience is a testament to that.

`“It’s like, are you making art, or is art just a part of your life?” he asks. “I think for me, it’s always the second one.”`

Michael Bonema arrived in New York as a teenager. Having been born in nearby New Jersey, he has also spent time in Philadelphia and in London as a child. MIKE’s previously acknowledged that the now-nostalgic staple, Channel U – the British TV channel that platformed a generation of underground rap and grime artists – influenced his wide taste in music, as well as the 2000s R&B his sisters played in their home.

The rap music he makes – particularly when self-produced – has a tendency to pack two or even three different beats into one, sometimes flipping the same sample in two different ways. Something for the subway and something for a dj blackpower set (his producer alias), all within one track. ‘If I’m making a track and I feel like flipping the beat three times, I just go with it. It’s never a forced thing – it’s more about feeling,’ he says, speaking to us candidly from his home, the day after a studio session that went into the early hours of a Tuesday morning. ‘Hip-hop is already a freeform sport – you don’t have to follow rules if you don’t want to, and that’s what always excited me.

His music is shaped as much by the people and places around him as it is by his own creative impulses. Whether it’s his independent label 10k, which has grown from a close-knit collective into a globally recognised platform, or Young World, the free-to-attend New York festival that now belongs as much to the city as it does to him, MIKE’s vision has always extended beyond just making records and releasing them.

His partnership with UNCLE does more than promote this landmark tenth album. It brings 22 collages – one for each song on Showbiz! – onto the streets of New York. These pieces, designed in collaboration with a longtime friend, aren’t just promo, but an extension of the album itself – just as personal and vulnerable as the music. “The collages reflect each song and are very personal to me,” MIKE says. “I feel like the vulnerable nature of my music is something people appreciate, and this is an extension of that.”

This philosophy extends to his touring, too. His upcoming 71-date world tour is more than just his biggest yet – it’s a travelling community effort, bringing at least 24 other artists on stage across various dates, including duendita, Navy Blue, Liv.e, and Maxo, as well as label mates like Anysia Kym, Sideshow, and Jadasea. On stage, MIKE has always created space for younger artists, introducing them to like-minded crowds, while also sharing bills – and a song – with artists like Sister Nancy, the dancehall pioneer, adding an intergenerational essence to his approach.

“Everything we’re doing now is part of something bigger that’s been happening for decades,” he says. “Sister Nancy wasn’t supposed to be who she is – there were barriers, systems that weren’t built for her to thrive in. But she broke through anyway.”

“That’s how the lineage keeps going. If you’re truly part of something bigger, you can’t be scared of new people coming up. You want new contenders, because that means the culture is alive. The real ones always stick around.”

Whilst there’s no single answer to what it takes to release ten albums of music, it seems to be an amalgamation of all the above. And the below…

How long have you lived in New York for now?

The end of ninth grade. I graduated in 2016, and I was in New York from the beginning of tenth grade. So, 2013 – twelve years now.

Do you think moving to New York from elsewhere gives you a different perspective on things?

Definitely, but not in a way where I ever felt too much like an outsider. Nigerians, specifically, have four, five, maybe six home bases where you know you’re going to find a lot of Nigerians. I was moving around my whole life, so coming to New York wasn’t too big of a shift for me – I could already understand what was going on.

I had cousins in the city, and I used to visit them every summer. They were putting me on to what was happening – whether it was the first people to show me Pop Smoke before he was making music, or putting me on to different styles, the way people dressed. I’d be in the Bronx rocking hella Polo because that’s what I was seeing.

When I finally moved there, I was living with those same cousins, so it already felt normal. And I think moving around so much helped me figure out how to exist in different communities. Maybe not for the best reasons, but it gave me a broader understanding of how to find my people. So when I got to New York, it was easy to find my tribe.

Your music always embraces that tribe, and your albums have always embraced featured artists and collaboration. So does this latest, your 10th mike album, feel like as much of a community effort as it does a ‘Solo’ album?

Yeah, I think every project is always a community effort. Even if it’s just me writing or working on something alone, the experiences that shape the music come from the people around me.

I’ve been working on Showbiz! since the end of 2023 and just thinking about how much life has happened in that time – it had to be a collaborative thing. There are people who’ve saved my life in different ways, and I have to credit that. It could be a homie who looked out for me, or just the small moments that shift your perspective. Everything plays a role in the music.

It’s like, are you making art, or is art just a part of your life? I think for me, it’s always the second one. The music reflects what’s happening around me, so it’s always tied to the people, places, and energy that surround it. That’s why every album – this one included – feels like more than just me.

And where does Showbiz!, The name of this project come from?

I think Showbiz! started as an idea while I was on tour. We’ve been touring non-stop for the last three years, and I’ve been making music seriously since 2017. At a certain point, it just felt like my whole life had become this—like I had fully stepped into what it means to be an artist.

For me, Showbiz! is about coming of age, not just as an artist but as a person. In four years, I’m gonna be 30, which is crazy to me because I feel like I’ve already lived so much life, but at the same time, I haven’t done shit yet. That’s what this album feels like—coming into myself, realising that this is what I do, and fully accepting it.

I was talking to my homie the other day about how parents always say, ‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ And we were like – why not? We put all our eggs in one basket because this is the only basket we got. But that doesn’t mean the basket has to be small. It can be as big as we make it. That’s what Showbiz! Is – realising that I’m in this, all the way, and there’s no backup plan.

The album’s once again released on your own label 10K. From the outside looking in, at times 10K has felt like a platform for yourself and friends to release music via. Now it feels like it’s kept that ethos, but evolved and expanded – sonically and geographically – to be a record label that can compete with other indie labels. What’s the vision for 10K?

We don’t necessarily see it as a label—maybe more like a crime organisation. [laughs] But nah, for real, from the start, we always looked at it like a mom-and-pop shop. The idea was to do everything in-house, to build something where we didn’t have to rely on the same industry systems that a lot of people feel trapped in.

A lot of it comes down to figuring out what makes us different. How do we stand next to these other labels that have the resources to do all the crazy industry shit? And I think we found that answer by just staying true to the people around us. We’ve got homies who run venues, people who handle different aspects of music and events, and a network that isn’t just about one scene or one city.

So, the vision is really just to keep building on that – to create a space where artists can drop their art comfortably and do what they need to do without all the extra bullshit. If you prioritise the art and the artist, things can be okay. And I’m grateful to be part of something that pushes that forward.

You’re about to embark on a 71-date tour – your biggest yet. How important is touring for you as an independent artist, and what role does it play in sustaining your career?

Touring is super important. Besides just performing, we’ve been hitting some of these cities for three, four years now, so it’s deeper than just a show – it’s about the people we’ve met along the way. Every time we go somewhere new, it feels like the family gets bigger.

I have this theory that one day all the good people in the world are gonna link up – whether it’s in one big-ass Instagram chat or something, I don’t know. But every time I’m on tour, it feels like that’s already happening in real life. You go somewhere you’ve never been before and realise there are people out there who relate to you, who feel the same way about things. It reminds you that this music, this whole journey, is bigger than just me.

And in terms of sustaining what I do, it’s everything. Touring is how I connect with people, how I keep growing, how I survive as an artist. Performing is one of my favourite things to do – it feels spiritual, like church or something. It’s where I feel the most like myself. On stage, you’re supposed to be the master of the ceremony, creating your own world, and I love that shit every time.

What’s special about new york as a place to come home to after all that touring?

Man, good weather, good gas, good food—that’s what I’m coming back to. We’re about to be in some weird places, so when I get back, it’s just turn-up time. But honestly, even when the world tour stops, we just hit the city and keep it going. That’s how it always is. We go around the world in the first quarter, then do everything we just did overseas back at home for the summer.
New York is special because it’s home, but it’s also not a place where you sit still. There’s always something happening, always somewhere to be. After being on the road, it’s not like I come back and just stop – it’s more like a shift in energy. The movement doesn’t stop, it just comes back to where it started.

And new york in the summer is also the location of young world, the free-to-attend festival that you’ve been organising for four years now. What inspired you to start that festival, and what’s been the most rewarding part of building it?

It actually started as a completely different idea. I wanted to do a series of shows in different warehouses, where all the stages would be set up in the middle and the crowd would circle around. That was the dream at first but figuring out how to actually make it happen led me to what Young World is now.

From the beginning, I wanted it to feel like more than just another show. I wanted it to be something that really brought people together, that felt like it belonged to the city. And over the years, I’ve seen it do exactly that—it’s a space where different generations of artists and fans all come together through hip-hop. Seeing that in real time, seeing how much it means to people, that’s the most rewarding part.

What makes new york the perfect place for a festival like this?

New York is built for something like this. It’s already a place where different generations, different cultures, and different sounds are always crossing paths. That’s what Young World is about – bringing all those worlds together in one space.

Even from the first one, when we had the deal with the art centre in the Lower East Side, it just made sense. The people involved, the energy of it, the way it brought everyone together – it all felt like a natural extension of what’s already happening in the city. When we moved it to the park in Brooklyn, it became even bigger. That was the moment where I really saw how much it meant to the community.

Now there are people who don’t even know me for my music but know me for putting on Young World. I was walking in my neighbourhood, and someone called me “the guy who does the park thing.” Didn’t even call it Young World – just “the park thing.” That’s crazy to me. Or I’ll be in the gym, and one of the security guards who’s been there for years didn’t recognise me at first, then he’s like, “Oh, you’re the guy from Young World?” That’s wild because that means it’s reaching people beyond just the ones who listen to my music.

That’s what makes New York the right place for this. It’s not just my thing anymore. It’s something that belongs to the city now.

You’ve been working with a designer to create collages for each song on the new album – these will be seen across new york as part of your collab with uncle. What do these visuals add to the experience of the album?

The visuals are just as important as the music. They tell the story in a way that sometimes the music alone can’t. Every project starts with a loose idea – something that visually sticks with me – and I let it build from there. With Showbiz!, I was thinking a lot about performance, about stepping into a role, and about how real life feeds into that. For example, I say a prayer to my mother before every show – praying that she can see it and that people enjoy it – and so I’ve been able to incorporate that tradition into this album and into the visuals ‘You’re the Only One Watching’.

The collages reflect each song and are very personal to me. I feel like the vulnerable nature of my music is something people appreciate, and this is an extension of that. It’s not just about promotion – it’s about being able to present the art in a different way, separate from the music. Art is our chance to turn intangible things into tangibles, and that’s what these visuals do. They make the emotions and ideas behind each track something you can actually see and experience in the real world.

How do you feel about bridging that gap between the digital and the real world?

It’s exciting because there’s no algorithm in real life. Anyone can walk past it, interact with it, and be introduced to something they weren’t looking for. That’s the part I love – the randomness of it.

It reminds me of how I’ve been put onto things in life. Someone shows you something, takes you somewhere, and suddenly your whole perspective shifts. That’s what I hope can happen with this – people coming across the art in their day-to-day and maybe discovering something that sticks with them.

On the topic of connecting with audiences, how has your relationship with social media evolved, particularly as an independent artist? It wasn’t too long ago that you turned your instagram off private…

Man, I’m about to go back on private. [laughs] Social media sucks, bro. But at the same time, it’s powerful. And anything that’s powerful – if it can be used for good, it’ll also be used against us. Every social media platform now just feels right-wing.

I do be a scroller, though. I rap, and I scroll. That’s really my shit. [laughs] And when you sit back and really look at it, it’s like a hamster wheel. My homies who have kids tell me about Cocomelon – how it’s just playing with their dopamine, messing with their brains. And I’m like… bro, we’re all on Cocomelon too. Social media does the same thing to us, just dressed up differently.

That’s why I try to remind myself – and other artists – that we still have free will in this. You can step away, you can use it how you need to without letting it run you.

Whether they interact with it on the streets or via the music in headphones or at a show, what do you hope people take away from the new album?

I just hope the music gives people a space to feel themselves. I want the shows to be a safe space – somewhere people can listen and maybe connect with feelings they’ve had but didn’t know how to put into words or be able to portray.

Even outside the music, with the collages or seeing it in the street, I just want people to experience something that sticks with them. Maybe it inspires them to look at their own life in a new way, or to reflect on where they are and where they’re going. That’s really all I could hope for.