My daughter was in Los Angeles last week. Like so many people who visit the City of Angels, she was struck by the sheer volume of graffiti. Graffiti looks different in different places; itâs not common where I live, but my brother in San Diego regularly cleaned it from the apartment complex he managed.
There are Roman examples of graffiti from 2500 years ago, mostly of the sexual or scatological variety, although the Kilroy was here kind also popped up regularly. If youâre willing to argue that art without words is also graffiti, itâs far older than written language: as old as the oldest cave art.
People do graffiti for lots of reasons, including a desire to mark territory, to shock, to rebel, or to state membership in a group. Then thereâs the simple desire to create beauty. I come down firmly on the âgraffiti is vandalismâ side, but my Australian cousinâs florist shop was proudly decked out in graffiti.
I think graffiti on a bridge overpass is annoying, but the Viking mercenary runic inscription in the Hagia Sofia is awe-inspiring. Yes, Iâm being hypocritical, but ask me again in a thousand years.
There is a storyâperhaps apocryphalâthat an American reporter discovered this inscription on the wall of a Verdun fortress in 1945:
Austin WhiteâChicago, Ill.â1918
Austin WhiteâChicago, Ill.â1945
This is the last time I want to write my name here.
If so, nothing could have expressed war-weariness better.
Creative expression
Spray paint hit the American market in the 1950s but it wasnât until the late 1970s that a product specifically designed for graffiti was introduced. Americaâs youth never looked back. Graffiti was influenced by nascent hip-hop culture. From there it was only a hop, skip and a jump to graffitiâs commercialization. Banksy (whoever he really is) is now a graffiti-millionaire, and global brands use graffiti for marketing. So much for rebellion.
Although there are times when middle-class kids make feints at being graffiti artists, itâs more commonly seen in poorer neighborhoods. Thereâs always been a gap in lower-income education in the arts, and No Child Left Behind made it worse. Where do you go if you havenât had the opportunity to learn traditional art? Even I can be seduced by my local hardware storeâs paint department, and I have a whole studio of materials to pick from.
That graffiti is a learned art can be read from its stylistic disciplines. There are wildstyle, bubble (bloated), tag, 3D, stencil, streetart, character and many more. Kids are not learning them in art class, but they are demonstrating that the human mind longs for beauty and will work hard at developing the chops to create it. If creative expression is shut down in traditional channels, it will find its way in train yards, empty factories, bus depots, and water towers.
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I grew up riding the NYC subways in the 70s when many (most?) cars were covered with graffiti on the outside especially. Much of it was beautiful, much of it not. The problem wasn’t so much the graffiti as the overall sense that the subway system was not in good repair nor particularly safe and graffiti became the symbol of that. Eventually the city got its act together and graffiti became much less common. And the subway system became safer (we’re talking 80s and 90s–I know nothing about today). But it always seemed to me that something was lost as well–the beautiful graffiti. It would have been better if that could have been retained even though I understand that it was never in the cards.
I always enjoyed reading the graffiti painted on box cars when stuck at a railroad crossing by a passing train. There are far fewer trains and much less graffiti these days.
Interesting that you write of a non-traditional art form such as graffiti. I have been questioning the value of a “formal” art education. When I went to school in the late 70’s, I studied fine art. I felt like this art education contained a sprinkling of traditional art foundation with a predominance of subversiveness and rule-breaking. The problem for me was, how do I translate this very creative approach with the need to make money and have a career. I found out that it is not so easy to just start being a successful artist. Hence, my working career began as a dish washer. I appreciate the subversiveness of graffiti artists up to a point. They find a way to express themselves in a world that values property ownership over human rights. When the art becomes just marking one’s territory, I’m not as accepting. Having lived in San Francisco for many years, I loved walking Balmy Alley in the Mission district which is adorned with street murals depicting the lives and struggles of Mexican-Americans. Graffiti and street art can reach a wider audience than the fine art gallery for sure.
My son was a graffiti artist. He did foray into the thrill of getting into forbidden places to leave forbidden marks. He had a tag, HEVS, which stood for âhaving epic visionsâ. He was one of those middle class kids trying to find his voice. A lot of his work was in his studio practice. He marked hats, sneakers, and pocketbooks. He also created signs for local shops and many canvasses as well. His sketchbooks are filled with words and phrases of hope and despair. He was a gifted artist who chose spray paint and markers as his medium of choice.
Daniel Wormell Mussen 1983 – 2012. He left an indelible mark on my heart.
Oh, Lynda. That is the one experience nobody should have to go through. I’m just so very sorry.