Graffiti Essay (Cannon)
An essay by Christopher Swift
Graphic design is often understood as a neutral or even
positive influence on the world (see AIGAs Design for Good[1]),
when it is harmful it is not really graphic design, it is something else, it is
propaganda, or it is being misused by a marketing department for suspect
reasons. Design is seen as a positive influence on the commercial world, and
that is assumed to mean it is a positive influence generally. Designers
themselves tend to think of themselves as being and doing “good.” I think this
is one of the reasons that graffiti is so often ignored and overlooked by the
design industry generally and design history specifically. Graffiti is seen and
described as a crime, it negatively affects a community or neighborhood, it is
a “broken window,” and this is not what “we” as graphic designers do, our work,
our billboards, posters, window treatments, storefront signs, these are a
positive to the community and are doing good, or at worst they are neutral.
This contrast, when considered with an open and critical mind, brings into high
relief, the assumptions we make about the positive impacts of our work, and the
negative impacts of graffiti. One is seen as property crime, and the other is
studied in schools and rewarded with money and literal awards.
The addition of graffiti as an area of study in graphic design history would be a great step towards a history that viewed graphic design and graphic design history as a more than a simple narrative of always forward progress. The inclusion of graffiti to our design history could present a complex, messy, interesting, and rich mixture of histories, cultures, ideas, and people; it could focus on a wider range of artists and designers than those that have been traditionally considered to be important. Almost every aspect of graffiti contrast what we are taught to think of graphic design as, it is non-commercial (it is in most cases illegal), it is inherently political, it exists outside of traditional models of commercial value, it does not follow the rules of “good” design, and is it created by poor people of color.
When graffiti is discussed in our design histories, the names that you are most likely to read about are Shephard Fairey, Banksy, or Keith Haring. None of the work of these three artists is what would be generally understood as a graffiti writer. From the choice of tools such as wheat pasting posters or stencils used by Banksy, to the content of the Obey project by Fairey, to the style of Haring, these three white men that have been celebrated in art and design history present a version of graffiti that is palatable to a graphic design view of the world. The vast majority of graffiti is still created by young, poor men of color using cans of spray-paint, and when they are caught painting, they are arrested, the work is not considered thoughtfully, it is not written about, is not celebrated.
Graphic design has struggled to define itself for years, the range of skill sets, types of work and the varied outputs of this loosely defined group have been debated in AIGA and GDC meetings for at least the 20 years I have been watching, but to look at our history books you find an incredibly narrow view of who we are and what we do. History may be conservative structurally, and some very good design history books have given voice to underrepresented groups, but a full embrace of this very American, very political, and very challenging art could test our assumptions about who we are, what we are doing, and what we want to be doing. Modern graffiti as an art style was invented and defined in urban centers across America by poor, young people of color[2]. It has its roots in the rise of hip-hop as one of the pillars of that style and culture. To continue to exclude and ignore graffiti as a legitimate and important art style from our history and study as graphic designers reinforce our narrow understanding of who we are, it limits our range of understanding, of technique, of tooling, and of meaning. Graphic design could have larger impacts on the world if it could view itself as something other than commercial art.
I think that graphic design history and education has ignored modern graffiti because it fundamentally does not understand it. The language, meaning, motivations, techniques, and tools are complex and require effort to learn, the structures and knowledge of graffiti are not a simple translation to those of graphic design. In an attempt at inclusion or possibly just an attempt to define what was acceptable to the larger art and design world the new term “street art”[3]was applied to some graffiti writers, marking them as something else than a criminal or vandal and granting them entrance to “high art.” It is not a term used by graffiti writers. The ideas behind “getting up,” which is a large motivation in graffiti writing[4], are complicated. These motivations can be about making a personal impact on the world in a system that has atomized the poor and has taken away many of the levers of power an individual has, it can be personal and civil disobedience against a set of rules you find yourself living inside of that seem arbitrary and cruel, it can be about achieving success in the eyes of people that you respect, but it is not about money, it is not about a career, it is not about being valued by the rich, the powerful, or the elite (academic or art or other).
In the same way the design historians may exclude graffiti due to a lack of knowledge; the graphic design studio classes ignore its tools and techniques as well. Tagging (the very fast writing of the writers’ name usually with a marker or spray paint) is what many tend to think of when discussing graffiti, but tagging is only one of a number of outputs such as black books, stickering, throwups, wheat pasting, and pieces, each of these has a range of styles and techniques. The techniques employed in even the most basic output of tagging have an exponentially complex variety of paths to take, the writer can pick from various styles of type illustration matched with a choice of marking tool from off-the-shelf markers to homemade “drippy markers” to cans of spray paint, to much more exotic homemade tools, the technique, the style, and the tools are then matched with a substrate. The visual styles of graffiti are also concerned with very different things than graphic design. Ideas of legibility and readability, of audience, of scale, of reproducibility all exist in various ways in graffiti, but they have such different end goals that they consider to be important than graphic design that those same terms become exploded and full of very different meanings.
A historical or technical study of graffiti could also have a great impact on type illustration. Jessica Hische, Laura Worthington, and Marian Bantjes are three of the best-known type illustrators and hand letterers in current graphic design and while Bantjes work is extraordinary and challenging Hische and Worthington produce beautifully designed historical restorations that focus on traditional calligraphy and Edwardian pen arts styles. Graffiti is primarily about type illustration; it is focused on letters, whether complex handwritten letterforms or huge highly designed murals that are full of color, shape, and texture similar to those found in devotional works like the Book of Kells. A study of these artists and the various styles that have been developed over the past 40 years could modernize type illustration and type design in mainstream graphic design. Understanding and authentically incorporating these new ideas and techniques into our traditional ideas of graphic design would at least delight audiences with something new.
For many designers like myself, graphic design was the culturally and economically safe way to be creative for a career. The majority of the work we studied in school was smart, challenging, bold, and exciting, but it was also almost invariably tied to a product or a war. Graphic design was a way to communicate your client’s message, and that message was to buy a product or service. Design does not challenge the system; it is the language of the system. An inclusion of graffiti into our studies could show us an entire ecosystem of artists, styles, tools, and techniques that have no interest in commercial matters, is intended to rock the boat, is inherently political, and shows what we could also be doing as graphic designers.
It is at best a mistake to dismiss graffiti as not worthy of study; it is arrogance to think it has nothing to offer because we don’t understand it; it is something worse to choose to ignore it once we know who the artists are the incredible skills they have. Graffiti is an American invention that should be celebrated like hip-hop, jazz, or abstract expressionism. It has a compelling history and narrative that highlights the struggles of poor communities without a voice, and that only seems more and more relatable to a large audience as time passes. An inclusion of graffiti into graphic design studies and practices could free designers to think about their work in new ways, to explore ideas that are not in service of capital, to create work that might run counter to commercial interests, but that might speak for communities, that might push back against the system that graphic design has so come to rely on.
[1]“Design for Good.” AIGA, https://www.aiga.org/design-for-good
[2]Roger Gastman and Caleb Neelon, The History of American Graffiti (New York, NY: HarperDesign,
2010), 48.
[3]Street Art citation needed
[4]Getting up citation needed
The addition of graffiti as an area of study in graphic design history would be a great step towards a history that viewed graphic design and graphic design history as a more than a simple narrative of always forward progress. The inclusion of graffiti to our design history could present a complex, messy, interesting, and rich mixture of histories, cultures, ideas, and people; it could focus on a wider range of artists and designers than those that have been traditionally considered to be important. Almost every aspect of graffiti contrast what we are taught to think of graphic design as, it is non-commercial (it is in most cases illegal), it is inherently political, it exists outside of traditional models of commercial value, it does not follow the rules of “good” design, and is it created by poor people of color.
When graffiti is discussed in our design histories, the names that you are most likely to read about are Shephard Fairey, Banksy, or Keith Haring. None of the work of these three artists is what would be generally understood as a graffiti writer. From the choice of tools such as wheat pasting posters or stencils used by Banksy, to the content of the Obey project by Fairey, to the style of Haring, these three white men that have been celebrated in art and design history present a version of graffiti that is palatable to a graphic design view of the world. The vast majority of graffiti is still created by young, poor men of color using cans of spray-paint, and when they are caught painting, they are arrested, the work is not considered thoughtfully, it is not written about, is not celebrated.
Graphic design has struggled to define itself for years, the range of skill sets, types of work and the varied outputs of this loosely defined group have been debated in AIGA and GDC meetings for at least the 20 years I have been watching, but to look at our history books you find an incredibly narrow view of who we are and what we do. History may be conservative structurally, and some very good design history books have given voice to underrepresented groups, but a full embrace of this very American, very political, and very challenging art could test our assumptions about who we are, what we are doing, and what we want to be doing. Modern graffiti as an art style was invented and defined in urban centers across America by poor, young people of color[2]. It has its roots in the rise of hip-hop as one of the pillars of that style and culture. To continue to exclude and ignore graffiti as a legitimate and important art style from our history and study as graphic designers reinforce our narrow understanding of who we are, it limits our range of understanding, of technique, of tooling, and of meaning. Graphic design could have larger impacts on the world if it could view itself as something other than commercial art.
I think that graphic design history and education has ignored modern graffiti because it fundamentally does not understand it. The language, meaning, motivations, techniques, and tools are complex and require effort to learn, the structures and knowledge of graffiti are not a simple translation to those of graphic design. In an attempt at inclusion or possibly just an attempt to define what was acceptable to the larger art and design world the new term “street art”[3]was applied to some graffiti writers, marking them as something else than a criminal or vandal and granting them entrance to “high art.” It is not a term used by graffiti writers. The ideas behind “getting up,” which is a large motivation in graffiti writing[4], are complicated. These motivations can be about making a personal impact on the world in a system that has atomized the poor and has taken away many of the levers of power an individual has, it can be personal and civil disobedience against a set of rules you find yourself living inside of that seem arbitrary and cruel, it can be about achieving success in the eyes of people that you respect, but it is not about money, it is not about a career, it is not about being valued by the rich, the powerful, or the elite (academic or art or other).
In the same way the design historians may exclude graffiti due to a lack of knowledge; the graphic design studio classes ignore its tools and techniques as well. Tagging (the very fast writing of the writers’ name usually with a marker or spray paint) is what many tend to think of when discussing graffiti, but tagging is only one of a number of outputs such as black books, stickering, throwups, wheat pasting, and pieces, each of these has a range of styles and techniques. The techniques employed in even the most basic output of tagging have an exponentially complex variety of paths to take, the writer can pick from various styles of type illustration matched with a choice of marking tool from off-the-shelf markers to homemade “drippy markers” to cans of spray paint, to much more exotic homemade tools, the technique, the style, and the tools are then matched with a substrate. The visual styles of graffiti are also concerned with very different things than graphic design. Ideas of legibility and readability, of audience, of scale, of reproducibility all exist in various ways in graffiti, but they have such different end goals that they consider to be important than graphic design that those same terms become exploded and full of very different meanings.
A historical or technical study of graffiti could also have a great impact on type illustration. Jessica Hische, Laura Worthington, and Marian Bantjes are three of the best-known type illustrators and hand letterers in current graphic design and while Bantjes work is extraordinary and challenging Hische and Worthington produce beautifully designed historical restorations that focus on traditional calligraphy and Edwardian pen arts styles. Graffiti is primarily about type illustration; it is focused on letters, whether complex handwritten letterforms or huge highly designed murals that are full of color, shape, and texture similar to those found in devotional works like the Book of Kells. A study of these artists and the various styles that have been developed over the past 40 years could modernize type illustration and type design in mainstream graphic design. Understanding and authentically incorporating these new ideas and techniques into our traditional ideas of graphic design would at least delight audiences with something new.
For many designers like myself, graphic design was the culturally and economically safe way to be creative for a career. The majority of the work we studied in school was smart, challenging, bold, and exciting, but it was also almost invariably tied to a product or a war. Graphic design was a way to communicate your client’s message, and that message was to buy a product or service. Design does not challenge the system; it is the language of the system. An inclusion of graffiti into our studies could show us an entire ecosystem of artists, styles, tools, and techniques that have no interest in commercial matters, is intended to rock the boat, is inherently political, and shows what we could also be doing as graphic designers.
It is at best a mistake to dismiss graffiti as not worthy of study; it is arrogance to think it has nothing to offer because we don’t understand it; it is something worse to choose to ignore it once we know who the artists are the incredible skills they have. Graffiti is an American invention that should be celebrated like hip-hop, jazz, or abstract expressionism. It has a compelling history and narrative that highlights the struggles of poor communities without a voice, and that only seems more and more relatable to a large audience as time passes. An inclusion of graffiti into graphic design studies and practices could free designers to think about their work in new ways, to explore ideas that are not in service of capital, to create work that might run counter to commercial interests, but that might speak for communities, that might push back against the system that graphic design has so come to rely on.
[1]“Design for Good.” AIGA, https://www.aiga.org/design-for-good
[2]Roger Gastman and Caleb Neelon, The History of American Graffiti (New York, NY: HarperDesign,
2010), 48.
[3]Street Art citation needed
[4]Getting up citation needed