Graffiti; More than just illegality

November 9 2025

Encyclopedia Britannica defines graffiti as a “form of visual communication, usually illegal, involving the unauthorized marking of public space by an individual or group (Fig. 1.).”[1] While this definition is serviceable for many, it ignores the complexities of graffiti as an art form. Furthermore, the cultural aspects of this practice see the same fate, a facet that is arguably the core of the term and associated artwork. Continuing from this point, the following text aims to delve into these unmentioned aspects, particularly the culture and the artists who create it.

Fig.1. Hope169. Graffiti Cow. 2000. Paint on plastic cow.

For a more comprehensive look at the culture of this portion of the art world, it is important to be aware of significant terminology that directly relates to the subject at hand. One such term is writers. In the context of graffiti culture and in this text, writers refer to the artists themselves.[2] As for another significant term, tags are in reference to an artist’s name as it appears in the work (Fig. 2.).2 Typically, tags are created with the intent to represent the letters in a creative manner, showcasing the writer’s style while simultaneously being a self-contained piece of art.  This can be considered akin to the signature of the corresponding writer. Additionally, graffiti has the unique quality of being temporary, as it is either cleaned off or worn away by natural elements. Such gives it a fleeting nature, a part of the experience writers accept, taking it as part of the art.

There is debate over whether graffiti is street art, whether these terms refer to the same art form, or if they are distinctive enough to be separate. For the purposes of this discussion, the interpretation of how these terms relate is as follows: Graffiti is a form of street art, but not all street art is to be considered graffiti. To distinguish work as graffiti, it may be helpful to consider the subject matter, as it is typically of words or an artist’s tag, although this is not always true. Additionally, this work is an unsolicited, frequently illegal form of self-expression.^[3] This facet of illegality will be further discussed as this text continues, as it is a point of major significance regarding this discussion. For clarity’s sake, graffiti will be the terminology used to refer to the art focused on, and it is considered a specific kind of street art.

Fig. 2. Quiñones, Lee. Year of the Dragon. 1979.

            Graffiti itself has a history of being considered unserious or “low-brow” by the general public, and part of this may be due to the typical locations in which such art is found. That is, graffiti is typically on display within urban areas, its presence often being associated with gangs and criminal activity, a view that continues to be perpetuated by outsiders to the art form. In these more urban areas, graffiti is often considered more undesirable than instances of it in more upscale environments despite it originating from lower-income areas. Ismael Illescas sees this sentiment as a result of systemic racism, stating in an interview, “You have some people who are more prone to being criminalized and severely punished for a very similar act, and that punishment falls mainly on young Black and Latino men.”[4] 

            This public perception of graffiti continues to make itself known with the removal of such masterpieces, particularly those painted on trains and subway cars. Many within the graffiti scene consider these mobile canvases to be a right of passage for writers, as it has become a staple of the art form (Fig. 2.). Artist Lee Quiñones, referred to as LEE within graffiti art spaces, has spoken on the personal experience of tagging these mobile canvases. He remarks, “A short while after I started painting on the trains, I realized I was doing it for myself and for the masses of people who rode the trains. I did it for New York. I was communicating to the city and trying to reach the normal, so-called well-adjusted people, the people that weren’t expecting something like this to come into their lives. I was trying to reach them in an intimate way.”[5] Quiñones continues to state that utilizing this particular form of canvas is, in his eyes, a way to bring a touch of abnormality to the daily lives of those taking these modes of transport. He remarks, “They make you start to think, ‘well, who is normal?’ Is it the ones that are painting the trains who are really expressing themselves and able to be free to do something like that in such a molded system?”[6]

            This messaging is inherently connected to the writer’s chosen canvas. While not all instances are directly tied to this particular instance, the act of leaving a message in itself is significant. Such significance is prominent to the degree that graffiti is inherently an art form that conveys something, not only in the more expected manner of the writer's intention but in providing a snapshot of the very location in which it is created. This phenomenon has been referred to as “illicit cartography,” describing the work as “a cultural map of the city.”[7] Such a description relates to the messages left by these creations, as it gives writers a voice that may not otherwise be heard and often speaks to the happenings of the area. One such instance can be found within Quiñones’ work, Howard the Duck (Fig. 3.) as it conveys messaging regarding the opposition towards graffiti, having text that reads, “Graffiti is a art, and if art is a crime, let god forgive all.” Robin Gunningham, known as Banksy, also leaves behind messaging in the work shown below (fig. 4.). Although the intended narrative is less evident, it seems to reference the idiom of “the rat race.” David Zinn, known as Boom in the graffiti scene, remarks that “graffiti is a poem the city writes to itself,” emphasizing the relation between the art and the location.[8]

Fig. 3. Quiñones, Lee. Howard the Duck. 1978.

Fig. 4. Gunningham, “Banksy” Robin. Untitled. 2008. Paint on wall.

In addition to illicit cartography, it is common for writers to mark territory with their work. This is primarily done through the tag, as the nature of such a signature inherently assigns the writer to their work. There is no indication that this claim of a space is intended to exclude other writers; instead, it is merely that particular ones have prominence within the area. Such a presence comes with the title of a king. To be considered a king by those in the scene, a writer would have to approach “a particular subway line by tagging with the most frequency and distinctive style.”^[9] There is a culture surrounding a king's work that comes from this respect and admiration, which is the avoidance among writers of defacing, covering, or otherwise altering the piece in a way that does not support the original vision.[10] This can go as far as to restore parts that have been weathered. Although subway lines are discussed in this example, this is not a requirement, and other works are acceptable, such as murals (Fig. 5.). Additionally, works placed in more challenging to tag or areas that may have a greater level of risk to them, are generally considered with more notoriety.

Fig. 5. Quiñones, Lee. The Lion’s Den. 1982

In contrast, those who have yet to have a reputation within the scene are given the title of toys by those established. Richard Goldstein, an advocate enjoyer of graffiti, points out that another way toys are separated from other writers is through the way they treat the art form, commenting that “Some kids do write to deface—to “bomb” a car, as they say; but the wholesale obstruction of windows and maps is a sure way to perpetuate your status as a novice.”[11] However, these novices are not shunned by other writers as the culture promotes collaboration and training of toys. Seeking out more experienced writers, toys seek to learn style and develop their own identity through a unique tag. Of course, they do not start by creating a tag for themselves, more so by executing a design planned by the experienced writer with their supervision. This can be executed in various ways, although the general concept remains the same.

The idea of a writer working with another does not cease with toys, as this phenomenon also occurs with writers collaborating in groups, referred to as crews.[12] Interestingly, these crews typically have intersections, meaning a writer is often part of several.11 Each crew is identified by a unified style composed of contributions from each individual and a title encompassing the whole of those involved.11 Members can leave or join a crew without a name change taking place, resulting in an evolution of a collaborative style for each crew. In addition, crews typically utilize an acronym, such as CIA, standing for Crazy Inside Artists (Fig. 6.).

This culture of tagging, whether collaborative or individual, has the sentiment of “I was here” or “We were here” for solo writers and crews respectively.^[13] This can be pushed further with more risky locations, with the supplement “and you are not and will not be.”^[14] Not only is this sentiment a core aspect of the scene, but it also draws back to early cave paintings(Fig.7.). While this may seem insignificant, it is argued that these factors relating to the two speak to a collective expression of the human experience, one that is not limited to a particular period and can give an individual an independent voice through art. This connection is further argued with the sentiment that “Prehistoric paintings and contemporary graffiti can be considered a communicative act of artistic expression, in which the painter conveys, through an image, a message to the public. In both groups, the context of the environment and the circumstances of the workmanship are extremely important for the nature of the appearance, quality, and significance of the image.”[15] In this way, both denominations of art share a quality of pure human expression, one that has proven to last in this form for a vast expanse of time. One can be so bold as to consider these early cave paintings to be the birth of graffiti as a form of self-expression and the first instance of pictorial creativity.

Fig. 6. A work created by the crew CIA (Crazy Inside Artists)

Fig. 7. Left wall of the Hall of Bulls. c. 16,000-14,000 B.C.E. 11 ft. 6 in.

Writers themselves connect with this sentiment of pure human expression. They find it a way of expressing not only their voice but also their beliefs, experiences, and sense of self through it. One description reads, “The idea is to impose yourself on an entire car,” a way of expressing one’s spirit pictorially for the world to see.[16] Another harkens to the ability to provide “First-hand reports of life in the urban trenches.”[17] Writer Ellis Chris, known as DAZE within the graffiti scene, encompasses this sentiment with a self-portrait entitled Transition (Fig.8.), which represents himself in a way that has a sense of realism narratively as a working artist participating in a form of self-expression that crosses the border of illegality.[18]

Fig. 8. Ellis, “DAZE” Chris. Transition. 1982. Acrylic paint on canvas. 68.5 x 122 cm.

            Fred Brathwaite, or Fab 5 Freddy, among writers, remarks that “Graffiti art is either accepted as a valid art form or is entirely dismissed as a passing fad doomed to failure by its lack of art historical footing.”[19] This is perhaps a pure summarization of the perception held by nonwriters regarding the art form of graffiti, a mixed perception that includes recognition and appreciation, as well as disdain and rejection. Generally, the negative perception of this art form is the most prominent vocally, as the creation of such works faces illegality and subsequent removal in most instances. Perhaps this illegality is a core contributor to the negative perceptions that are held.

In a space such as this, where the art form is legally oppressed, it begs the question of whether this oppression is justified or if such pushback is doing a disservice to the masses. Ultimately, this conversation is one that is to be had on a case-by-case basis. An argument is formed that graffiti is only considered morally permissible and therefore accepted if it is created “to express political dissent, as long as it is justifiable to reasonable persons.”[20] Such an approach considers writers' work as applicable to free speech. This does beg into consideration where this line of dissent lies. However, those who advocate for and remove graffiti under the guise of legality do not consider this factor. Instead, there is an emphasis on the work as a violation of property owner rights, a form of property devaluation, and the writer’s work as detrimental to the visual appeal of the location and the canvas written on.[21]

While the push to keep graffiti illegal is prominent, it is not without opposition. For instance, a warehouse in Long Island City, Queens, was designated as a space where graffiti could be written legally (Fig. 9. & Fig. 10.), “christened 5Pointz in 2002.”[22] The existence of this location “furthers the idea that street art is to be cherished and protected, not destroyed,” as stated by Eric Baum, a lawyer for the writers of the works in this location.22  This legal status is significant as the agreement for such a space to remain legal for graffiti writers saw violation from Geral Wolkoff, who initially created this safe haven. Despite previously supporting writers by allocating the space, Wolkoff planned to demolish the area to build luxury apartments. While this intent is not directly an infringement of the agreement, the following actions taken are.

 Fig. 9. 5Pointz in 2010 before being painted over and subsequently destroyed.

Fig. 10. 5Pointz in 2010 before being painted over and subsequently destroyed.

With no notice, Wolkoff painted over the work of writers who had tagged 5Pointz, an action that resulted in various writers pressing legal charges. The result of the following case found that Wolkoff had violated the Visual Artists Rights Act (VARA), which enacts protection for artwork created during or after June 1, 1990, for the duration of the artist in question’s life.[23] Additionally, the work of 5Pointz reached recognized stature, a status necessary for certain protections under VARA. Such a status was simply due to the work's presence at a major site “that is seen and appreciated by the public and the art community.”[24] In this particular instance, the violation of protection is in regard to “the right to prevent any intentional or grossly negligent destruction of your work if it is of recognized stature.”23

Due to the condition that, for works of recognized stature, an owner must notify the artist of removal within 90 days not seeing compliance, the verdict was reached that Wolkoff was under gross negligence. Such negligence resulted in the judge issuing the maximum fine of “$6.75 million in statutory damages to 21 aerosol artists whose works were destroyed without prior notice by the owner of the building where the artists had been authorized to create for a decade.”24  Although the artwork was inherently unrecoverable, Marie Cecile Flageul, spokeswoman for the 5Pointz artists, remarks that this was “a victory for visual artists and their moral rights.”[25] While in 5Pointz’s place lie the aforementioned luxury apartment buildings, this case is significant as an instance of graffiti being adequately recognized as an art and not merely a violation of law.

A similar narrative persists within fine art spaces, as although not all recognize graffiti, there are notable cases where it occurs. For instance, Deigo Cortez, curator of an exhibition show sought after work by writers, an excerpt from a statement of his remarking that he sought to “establish a new art that wasn’t even ready for the galleries. I wanted to make the show different from what was happening on the gallery scene.”[26] This sentiment paints writers and their work as fresh and different from what already was shown in galleries, and a sense, this sentiment rings true, as graffiti is not intended to be displayed in this manner. However, it is notable that some writers felt as though there was an underlying sense of the “low-brow” perception that has been a constant regarding how critics view graffiti. Brathwaite refers to this patronizing aspect of many writer and dealer relationships with the statement, “They’re not treated like real artists… it’s like social work.”[27] This sentiment is further held as Quiñones would state that “Dealers and collectors were fascinated by the idea of graffiti, but they were not interested in examining it closely or accepting it as art.”[28]           

While interest in such work rose, it gradually fell, with critics remarking that it “has lost its charm.”[29] Although this sentiment is present among many, there are instances of the opposite being valid. Perhaps the most significant example of this is the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat (Fig. 11.). Originating as a writer under the title Samo, Basquiat saw considerable attention from critics and dealers following his inclusion in an exhibition. Charlie Ahearn, an individual interested in Baquiat’s work, comments that he “became the discovered star in that show.”[30] This attention only increased, but the caveat that the work is on canvas in order to achieve further success is considered a necessary upgrade in sophistication by critics. This path was ultimately one that Basquiat followed, and the label of graffiti resulted in being separated from his work with a growing presence in the fine art scene.

Fig. 11. Basquiat, Jean-Michel. Untitled. 1981. Acrylic paint on canvas. 205.7 x 175.9 cm.

            Other writers would create works within these spaces, even those of great prominence within the graffiti scene, such as Fabara Sandra, known as Lady Pink (Fig. 12), yet the graffiti space continued to remain prosperous as it was not wholly abandoned in favor of fine art. Leonard Hilton McGurr, called Futura in the graffiti scene, considers creating work within the fine art scene vastly different from graffiti, stating, “When you show in a gallery, you are not a graffiti artist. I’ve been aware of this from the beginning in 1979, with Lee; we knew immediately, this is not really graffiti, this is just a painting that I’m making.”[31] This creates a dilemma of authenticity, as a writer creating work within fine art cannot properly label it as graffiti due to the many inherent differences, namely, the permanent nature of a typical canvas.

Fig. 12. Fabara, “Lady Pink” Sandra. Ghetto Pink. 2011. Acrylic on canvas. 48 in. x 72 in.

            Ultimately, graffiti cannot be separated from its place within the city streets, as doing so shifts the form to some other kind of art. The cultural aspects surrounding the scene and its writers are what make graffiti, particularly the temporary nature of the work, the messaging as a look into the location, the community of writers in friendly competition with each other, and the nature of tagging as representing oneself through a signature. Whether the work is the result of a crew’s collaboration or a single writer seeking to make a name for themselves, graffiti holds onto the human desire to make a statement, whether that be as simple as an indication of one’s place in the tagged location, or something more profound. Although illegality is a facet that creates more risk in creating such works, Suzi Gablik aptly concludes that “Paradoxically, the crossing of the border into criminality is required to give graffiti its ethical quality, its note of authenticity.”[32] Although an instance of legal graffiti is included in this text, it is of note that the culture surrounding graffiti, and therefore the nature of it, is one that is rooted in the marker of illegality.

[1] Decker, Scott H., Curry, Glen D. et. al. “graffiti.” Encyclopedia Britannica. August 31, 2024. https://www.britannica.com/art/graffiti-art.

[2] Goldstein, Richard. “The Fire Down Below.” Pp. 55. The Village Voice. December 24, 1980. https://zephyrgraffiti.com/the-fire-down-below/.

[3] Avramidis, Konstantions, Tsilimpounidi, Myrto. “Graffiti and Street Art: Reading, Writing, and Representing the City.” Taylor Francis. Pp. 4. 2017. https://api.taylorfrancis.com/content/books/mono/download?identifierName=doi&identifierValue=10.4324/9781315585765&type=googlepdf.

[4] Soergel, Allison Arteaga. “The writing on the wall: exploring the cultural value of graffiti and street art.” UC Santa Cruz. September 14, 2021. https://news.ucsc.edu/2021/09/graffiti-street-art.html.

[5] Thompson, Margo. “American Graffiti.” EBSCO. Pp. 42. 2009. https://eds.p.ebscohost.com/eds/ebookviewer/ebook?sid=39b78733-25d0-46d1-8b1e-c873e01168a5%40redis&ppid=pp_7&vid=0&format=EB.   

[6] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 38. 4.

[7] Soergel, Allison Arteaga. 4.

[8] Avramidis, Konstantions, Tsilimpounidi, Myrto. Pp. 2. 2.

[9] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 33. 4.

[10] Zagorov, Vasil, Hristov, Hristo. “Contemporary Graffiti as a Tool for Studying Prehistoric Art. A Classification  Attempt.” Pp. 7. Research Square. July 26, 2023. https://www.researchsquare.com/article/rs-3187619/latest.pdf.

[11] Goldstein, Richard. Pp. 55. 2.

[12] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 36. 4.

[13] Zagorov, Vasil, Hristov, Hristo. Pp. 3. 7.

[14] Zagorov, Vasil, Hristov, Hristo. Pp. 6. 7.

[15] Zagorov, Vasil, Hristov, Hristo. Pp. 2. 7.

[16] Goldstein, Richard. Pp. 55. 2.

[17] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 38. 4.

[18] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 152. 4.

[19] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 151. 4.

[20] Theofilopoulou, Areti. “Is Graffiti Ever Morally Permissible?” Practical Ethics. February 29, 2016. https://blog.practicalethics.ox.ac.uk/2016/02/oxford-uehiro-prize-in-practical-ethics-is-graffiti-ever-morally-permissible-written-by-areti-theofilopoulou/.

[21] Erdenedalai, Khulan. “Urban Tapestry: The Evolution of Street Art and Its Cultural Impact.” The Yale Globalist. November 4, 2023. https://globalist.yale.edu/2023-2024-issues/beneath-the-surface-of-brazil/urban-tapestry-the-evolution-of-street-art-and-its-cultural-impact/.

[22] Cramer, Maria. “Artists Have Final Victory in a Case of Destroyed Graffiti.” The New York Times. October 6, 2020. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/06/nyregion/graffiti-artists-5pointz.html.

[23]  Forscher, S. “The Visual Artists Rights Act of 1990.” Pp. 1. City of Albuqureque. 2008. https://www.cabq.gov/artsculture/public-art/documents/visualartistsrightsact_philadelphiavolunteerlawyersarts.pdf.

[24] Carron, Lousie. “Case Review of the 5Pointz Appeal: Castillo et al. v. G&M Realty L.P. (2020).” Center for art law. March 2, 2020. https://itsartlaw.org/2020/03/02/case-review-of-the-5pointz-appeal-castillo-et-al-v-gm-realty-l-p-2020/.

[25] Cramer, Maria.  12.

[26] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 109. 4.

[27] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 127. 4.

[28] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 133. 4

[29] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 110. 4.

[30] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 115. 4.

[31] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 164. 4.

[32] Thompson, Margo. Pp. 167. 4.