Phil Buehler’s Wall of Shame
Presented by Radio Free Brooklyn
4 July – 31 July 2025
12 Grattan Street
Brooklyn, NY 11206
On July 4th, in the heart of Bushwick, artist Phil Buehler and the team at Radio Free Brooklyn unveiled Wall of Shame, a striking outdoor installation that confronts the legacy of the January 6 Capitol insurrection. Installed along a 50-foot stretch of chain-link fencing outside Pine Box Rock Shop, the project presents a sobering archive of over 1,500 individuals involved in the riot, many of whom have since received pardons or had their sentences reduced.
From a distance, the mural recalls a deconstructed American flag. Up close, it reveals hundreds of individual portrait cards, each printed on vinyl and fastened directly to the fence. The portraits include mugshots or video stills, accompanied by names, a summary of actions, and sentencing information. The color-coded backgrounds—red for those charged with violent acts, blue for property damage, white for other offenses—create a fractured visual rhythm. With no added slogans or commentary, the piece lets the imagery and facts speak for themselves.
Wall of Shame follows two previous installations by Buehler and his collaborators: Wall of Lies (2020), which displayed thousands of falsehoods told by Donald Trump, and Wall of Liars and Deniers (2021), focused on election deniers and misinformation. Those works leaned into satire and textual density. This new iteration is quieter, more somber. When Wall of Lies was defaced by far-right protestors, the artists responded by restoring the piece and adding hand-drawn heart stickers—a gesture of defiance that became part of the visual vocabulary. While Wall of Shame has not faced this level of vandalism, that ethos of reclamation remains embedded in the work.
“It’s crucial to reflect on what accountability means in our democracy,” says Rob Prichard, co-founder of Radio Free Brooklyn. “This mural serves as a visual reminder of the events that challenged our democratic institutions and the subsequent pardons that followed.”
Equally important is the installation’s placement. Situated in a neighborhood known for its cultural activism and rapid gentrification, Wall of Shame occupies public space with a purpose. Prior to the opening, organizers held discussions with local residents to explain the intent behind the project and to ensure it would be received in the spirit of accountability rather than provocation. Community members expressed strong support, emphasizing the need for public art that addresses current social and political realities.
There’s a subtle physicality to the experience. The vinyl portraits ripple in the breeze, producing a soft rustling that recalls both protest banners and temporary memorials. During a visit, passersby moved slowly, quietly reading the charges—“pushed a police officer over a railing,” “charged the Capitol with a flagpole,” “destroyed government property.” The mural doesn’t ask viewers to judge. It forces them to bear witness.
“A red hat, white skin, and blue jeans don’t make you a patriot. But storming the Capitol makes you a traitor,” Buhler stated in installation press release.
Wall of Shame resists spectacle. It does not seek to sensationalize or editorialize. Instead, it offers a stark, unfiltered reflection of a nation’s unresolved crisis. In doing so, it turns a street corner into a platform for civic engagement—a space where history, art, and accountability intersect.
