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"Almost two decades have passed since this war was decreed. Despite the considerable economic and social resources the rule makers have invested, despite the enthusiastic support of these policies by both official and volunteer rule enforcers, despite the continued support of the graffiti eradication programme in the press and on television, the war has not been won. Instead, it has become institutionalised" (Cavan 1995; 2).
Graffiti in its most uncomplicated form is outlined by [name removed], a writer who has been involved with graffiti for twenty two years and now sells Banksy, D*Face and Modern Toss prints for hundreds of pounds (www.picturesonwalls.com):
"At the end of the day it's not a particularly serious crime, all you're really doing is changing the colour of something. And you know sometimes you're making a mess, sometimes you make it better, whatever" ([name removed] 31 July 2006)
Why then does graffiti, which can be trivialised to the mere changing colour of something by a long-term enthusiast, merit its position as a significant feature of academic interest? The importance of graffiti is not solely granted on the basis of content or style, but what it is associated with symbolically, as we have seen with its cultural implications. Graffiti is rejected on the basis of two negative symbolic associations: by being metaphorically "matter out of place" (Douglas 1966) in mainstream society, and by representing mysterious other places occupied perhaps by more dangerous people (Cresswell 1996). In misunderstanding their endevours, the public is encouraged by the authorities to condemn graffiti because "in the rhetoric of the ruling class, graffiti symbolises anarchy, its very presence an unquestioned threat to social order" (Cavan 1995; 3).
Although this study aims to be a contemporary UK specific account, it is noteworthy that in New York in the 1970's the presiding Mayor of the time, John Lindsay, persistently made public statements about the pollution "of mind and eye" by waging "an all out war on graffiti" (Castleman 1982; 136). Ten million dollars was spent on tougher policing policies, new graffiti removal technologies and militant security measures around train lines, controversial in that the city was at the time in fiscal crisis. Because graffiti was enjoying its successes while New York simultaneously fell into disrepair, it is arguable that the stigma attached to graffiti today is produced by the legacy of attacking the signs of disorder rather than the disorder itself (Smith 2006). Removing graffiti according to Mayor Lindsay had a "positive psychological impact" (Castleman 1982; 178). Similarly, Tim Otoole, Manager Director of London Underground, has famously referred to graffiti as the "psychological mugging" (Harry 2005) of the British public. Because graffiti has historically been condemned as disorder that merited considerable attention and preventative investment, when arriving on British land its reputation and rejection was to some extent predetermined.
In reaction to graffiti, penalties throughout the UK can vary from £50 on the spot fines introduced as part of the 'Antisocial Behaviour Act 2003' to £5,000 fines under the Criminal Damage Act 1971 (Crown Prosecution Service 2006), although some can reach £27,000 and three years imprisonment according to interviewees. What gives graffiti its 'place' and subsequent stigma in society is the geography of its removal. Graffiti happens everywhere in the city, across the most prestigious streets and expensive houses. The difference is that it is removed almost immediately as local authorities are responsible for removing graffiti from privately owned businesses and residencies (BBC Action Network Team 2006). In poorer areas, competing council priorities means graffiti is left to stagnate, lose colour, and depreciate the environment as it is drawn or tagged over multiple times compounding a sense of disorder and dirt.
This chapter will pursue notions of place – how it is constituted, perceived, governed and transgressed. Feminist geographies have sought to understand how power relations operate through place and the ways in which everyday practices create and reinforce marginality and difference (Nagar in Staeheli et al 2004), which will addressed in the rhetoric of the "graffiti wars" (Cavan 1995). Because the world to each individual is constituted by what they deem to be normal and "in place" (Cresswell 1996), I ask; where, if anywhere, does graffiti belong in contemporary UK society? This assists in composing the idea that graffiti is as diverse and heterogeneous as any culture and that it is actually composed in part by malevolent behaviour as well as "folk heroes" (New York Times 1971), contrary to previous authors conceptions.
Politicians and Police are eager to correlate an attack on graffiti as being an attack on antisocial culture and everything that this encompasses thus drawing parallels with more serious crimes (Ferrell 1995). The rhetoric of 'war' over place has been imparted throughout the world since Lindsay's commanding speeches declaring the fight against graffiti, and to justify the mobilization of community resources in eradicating this public threat (Castleman 1982). Graffiti is, essentially, a conflict over place. The UK government, in seeking to take control and manifest politics in space wants graffiti to be seen by as few people as possible (BBC Action Network Team 2006). Taken for granted, however, is the sub-political power functioning as part of UK graffiti culture which means writers want to be seen by as many people as possible, in as many places as possible (Paul 107 2003). Ironically, graffiti is dependent on its illegality for writers to maintain the excitement, the 'buzz', inherent to bombing. Because this war is not one that can be, or requires to be, won it has been suggested that the war has become institutionalised (Cavan 1995). Graffiti, in being placed within community projects and legal walls, is gradually being manipulated into conforming to mainstream expectations (Powers 1996).
The question as to where graffiti 'belongs' is a contested notion which supplies ample ammunition for the war dialogue. For example, if graffiti in Edinburgh is restricted to a wall near the university away from residential areas and the main road, then the authorities have proved victorious in containing this apparent disorder. If graffiti in Edinburgh exists, as it does, throughout the city streets as tags in public areas, the graffiti writers have succeeded in the deregulation of dominant ideologies. Writers are of the opinion that "graffiti is vandalism. If it becomes too legitimate, it loses part of what it's about in the first place" ([name removed] 15 November 2006). One writer at the Lovebox festival, standing back and looking at his graffiti with crossed arms said that graffiti didn't "belong in this place", confined within the festival arena. It belongs "out there" he motioned with a hand in no particular direction, implying that anywhere in London would suffice. [name removed], commented that:
"It doesn't belong in a controlled, sterile environment. Graffiti's all about freedom and impulse and movement… For me it kind of belongs on the side of a train. Same as advertisers, advertisers want to get the prime positions…" ([name removed] 31 July 2006)
Power in place is associated with "control, authority or the ability to govern or rule" (Staeheli et al 2004; 165). Government regulation is designed into place. For example, legal graffiti walls are designed to keep deviance to a minimum in a place and so penalties against illegal graffiti are unforgiving and preventative budgets proliferating (MacDonald 2001). This is not a case of democracy, as the majority of the public have largely glossed over the manifestation of graffiti in society (figure 4.4), but a case of control and who exerts the most symbolic control in public places (Cavan 1995). A worthy argument is that the "sense of losing control", in this case over place, "is exacerbated by processes of globalisation in which decision-making seems increasingly removed from locales and the "average person" (Staeheli et al 2004; 165). Indeed the punk subculture appeared to be a result of post-world war two deprivations, emerging as a representation of "noise as opposed to sound" and offering a "symbolic change to the symbolic order" (Hebdidge 1983; 87). Furthermore, we have seen graffiti's popularisation came from an era of instability in 1970's New York (Castleman 1982). As the UK society is submitted to the uncertainties connected with a globalising world, an interesting question is solicited: Are graffiti writers striving to keep control over what they still can? As officials try to structure society to make it less threatening and more predictable (Cohen 1980), perhaps graffiti is a means of doing likewise.
Undeniably, graffiti is some form of refusal and embodies the socially unacceptable 'illegal' if it transcends its officially given place. In presenting graffiti images to the public, writers arguably unveil tensions between dominant and subordinate groups which can be found "reflected in the surfaces of subculture – in the styles made up of mundane objects which have a double meaning" (Hebdidge 1983; 2). Graffiti maintains a stigma that associates it with more serious crime which, for some writers, proves a frustrating relationship arguing: "I'm not robbing your television, I'm not getting drunk and running over your kids, I'm changing the colour of something. Sometimes for the better" ([name removed], 15 November 2006). Others feel that the way they are represented is unfair, saying of their negative reputation that:
"…the media always uses Graffiti to their own end; one day it's all trendy yeah look at this, next day its serial graffiti vandals commit robbery.... writers hate being treated harsher than serious criminals who are out to make personal gain from other peoples loss or misery, graffiti doesn't ask for anything. You need to understand something first and then maybe you'll find a solution you know, f*ck the media" ([name removed] 2 August 2006)
Superficially, graffiti when defended in such a way does appear to be suffering at the all too whimsical notions of the media which embellishes graffiti as an embodiment of other forms of disorder in juxtaposition to the trivialising dialogue writers adopt. Graffiti and crime are correlated based mainly on assumption as no correlative accounts exist to prove that those convicted of graffiti crimes are also responsible for further offences. Indeed, the police commented that it was "impossible to say" (Police Constable 23 July 2006) when asked if graffiti was indicative of wider social problems. Imperative to research was recognition that writers are not a homogenous group of individuals and that motivations to graffiti do vary:
"For some it's just for the adrenaline rush, others for the artistic expression, others for the illegality 'f*ck the system' thing. For others it's a whole life thing and other writers becoming like an extended family. Graffiti writers are the most diverse bunch of people I think maybe in the whole history of youth culture or whatever because you have all ages from twelve up to, like, forty hanging out together, from all backgrounds, races, cultures etcetera" ([name removed] 14 January 2007).
[name removed] here illustrates a crucial element surprisingly overlooked in previous literature: diversity. To say that graffiti as a youth sub-culture is not correlative with crime is misleading. Moral panics, according to Cohen (1980), are caused when sub-cultures are associated with drugs, crime and violence. As has been discussed, many authors on choosing graffiti as a subject of study do so because they promote it fervently which overlooks graffiti's criminal or more negative dimensions (Paul 107 2003; MacDonald 2001). A vital question may have been overlooked: are such moral panics justifiable?
In objectifying my research position, I recognise that some individuals' graffiti is a means through which to pursue contra-authoritarian deviance and disrupting the moral order. Those who oppose graffiti do not do so because they are dedicated to metaphorically wiping out deviance, but because they prefer their 'natural' cityscapes. Duncan MacLean from 'Clean Streets' validates this by saying:
"Most graffiti I see isn't attractive; I much prefer to see things clean and smart. I love old stone and wood and I like to see buildings looking their best. People see graffiti as representing vandalism and crime and therefore do not want it where they live and work" (MacLean 1 August 2006)
Furthermore, Randy Cambell, responsible for campaigning against graffiti as a part of 'Nograff Graffiti Networks' deemed the motive of graffiti writers one-dimensional: "Graffiti to most vandals is just an easy way to play 'bad boy'. But laws are getting tough, you are seeing a change in attitude, it is no longer the fun little crime that these wanna-be's were doing before" (Campbell 20 January 2007).
I was under no pretences that the Lovebox was attended by the best International Graffiti writers and that easy to access writers were those who had small graffiti-related businesses or were not concerned at the prospect of being exposed. Furthermore, although they may deny it, friends involved in graffiti do appear to occupy middle-class "criminal fantasy land" (Addley 2006; 45). In meeting so many competent and successful writers, my opportunities to promote graffiti were more than they were to see it as detrimental. To dissipate any bias, I pursued conversations with residents that expressed an interest in graffiti at The Links Project, the drugs crisis centre where I work. They did not describe it in the quixotic manner of established writers I met in London, and I hoped that they may reveal another dimension of graffiti from a new perspective.
The significant interest I received about my researching of graffiti in the centre is unlikely to stem from the cultural advantages of graffiti, or respect for the politics of the graffiti lifestyle. From questioning individuals at the crisis centre, it became evident that graffiti appropriates place for not only graffiti writers but any other individuals that consider themselves on the margins of society. They respect graffiti because it is a sub-culture contrary to authority and the dominant social order (Hall and Jefferson 1976). The initial popularity of graffiti sprang from the "novelty of being produced by poor minority criminals than on any intrinsic artistic value" (Powers 1996; 140). Most interviewees throughout the course of research said graffiti was addictive because it was something to crave, compulsively create but never be entirely satisfied by. Those at the Links Project however did not take it particularly seriously: "I kind of got into it, you know, writing my name about. I never had a proper tag I just wrote my name when I was drunk or whatever else (laughs)… But some guys took it well seriously. I was taking the pi*s and they didn't like it at all" ([name removed] 27 January 2007).
The significance of graffiti as a symbol of crime is indeed embroidered to give a face to the antisocial and to represent the cleaning up of disorder in society (figure 5.3). It is difficult as a researcher, endowed with the responsibility to speak on behalf of graffiti writers, to not become somewhat trapped by an obscure loyalty to disprove myths about graffiti writers as criminals. However, this negative representation is by no means unjustified. The individuals classed as 'toys' that impulsively tag do not always evolve into prolific graffiti writers and so some of the images we consume are experimental ventures by serial offenders (Stewart 1987). Like any subculture, graffiti writers are no homogeneous group with similar backgrounds, claiming 'place' for the same reasons. Only few from interviewing would be cautious of their actions being correlated with the taking of control in an increasingly volatile urban environment. Some are eager to emphatically break the law with little regard to graffiti as a cultural artefact. Graffiti is illegal and perpetrators will be condemned for breaking the law regardless of how trivial a crime they perceive it to be.
Because of the anonymity graffiti writers maintain, the public perception of why these semi-mythical people appropriate our public places is largely left open to interpretation (Hall 1997). Hebdidge suggests that "the intellectual poverty and total lack of imagination in our society's response to its adolescent trouble-makers during the last twenty years, is manifest in the way this response compulsively repeats itself and fails each time to come to terms with the 'problem' that confronts it" (1980; 204). Public responses to graffiti are informed in a variety of ways, for example, imagining the 'anti-social' in policy material is often constructed around the problem of graffiti images (figure 5.3). How the media representation portrays graffiti is a significant force in public perception construction, as Hall notes, "the media play a crucial role in defining our experience for us. They provide us with the most available categories for classifying out the social world." (Hall 1977 in Hebdige 1983; 85). We are also submitted to the image of graffiti as a fashionable product, the consumption of which will ensure social prestige for young people, the most influential and susceptible to pursue graffiti (Figure 5.4). Throughout this study I have referenced a 'Banksy' picture and citation because he is the most popular and well known graffiti writer in the UK today, creating stylistic and hugely popular stencils (Banksy 2006). Conflicting interpretations of graffiti with criminal stigma and popularised style mean that public perceptions are confused. What graffiti symbolises to the public is fundamental in understanding why it is rejected or accepted as part of UK culture.
Sixty people were asked to identify who they thought the bald, topless young man was in the process of creating a piece (Appendix 1). The responses were varied, from eight considering him an 'artist' to others describing him as "A yobbo", "a youth", "a street kid", "an idiot seeking attention", "someone from a deprived urban area", "an anarchist", "a bum". Surprisingly, four respondents associated him with 'gang culture' claiming that he was marking his territory. This view is very much rooted in equating graffiti directly with New York gang violence and thus the public are often cautious of and intimidated by its presence. Graffiti, however, may never have been a gang pursuit owing to the fact that freedom to move around territories to 'bomb' is vital to writers, and they can not afford to limit their range to one territory alone (Castleman 1982). Yes, graffiti gangs do exist and they endeavour to establish the best pieces in the prime positions, however conflicts are rarely, if ever, more violent than 'crossing out' which entails tagging or piecing over another writers work. The public opinion of graffiti is to some extent misinformed by representations of a culture that is too frequently spoken for, and not spoken too. In approaching the dynamics of contemporary UK graffiti, a more truthful and less romanticised representation of graffiti is due.
