top of page
Image by Nathan Riley

GRATITUDE AND GENTRIFICATION: AN ODE TO THE GRAFFITI CITY

Is Bristol’s graffiti culture evolving?


“Can I get your name?” I ask.


“What? my graffiti name?”


“Yes.”


“Nah, I’m sorry I can't give you that”.


Reece Jones is the graffiti artist refusing to give me his tag. Perhaps this is down to the legality of his work, yet artists like Reece represent an integral part of Bristol’s culture. The graffiti city has dominated street art in the UK for the past forty years. The hiss of spray cans can be heard from Totterdown to Easton, and while it’s easy to mistake these sounds for nos canisters (drug abuse being another popular pastime in Bristol), it is hard to ignore the hold on which graffiti has on the city. This art form has seeped into the hearts of many Bristolians, for example, any generation X father seems to know who Banksy is. My dad believes they met at a house party in Totterdown in the nineties. Bristol’s relationship with street art and graffiti is one of love, but is this relationship changing?


Graffiti art has its roots in hip hop and skating culture and first emerged as a sub-culture in New York and Philadelphia in the 1970s. Punk bands and their fans also adopted a love for spray cans and their ability to promote anarchy and anti-establishment rhetoric. Hardcore, American punk band Black Flag and their fans were known for stencilling the band’s logo at any given opportunity. For Reece and fellow artist Ollie Gillard, Hip Hop and Skateboarding were their main influences. “The world which I grew up in was very much skateboarding and hip hop. It was a subculture I fit into,” says Ollie. “All the punk music, clubs and squat parties and skaters brought it to Bristol. The music scene is very connected.” Ollie refers to the “Massive Attack era”- a period in the late eighties where band member 3D (real name: Robert Del Naja) was a prominent graffiti artist and member of the Bristol Collective ‘The Wild Bunch’. “He was one of the first people to be doing graffiti in Bristol,” says Reece. By the time Banksy emerged in the late nineties, Bristol was already established as the graffiti capital of the UK.



Forty years later, some feel Bristol’s graffiti culture has been tainted by gentrification. Chris Howker is a street artist originally from Manchester and is pleased with how widely accepted graffiti is in Bristol. “It’s used in advertising and is all over the TV,” he says. “Doing things illegally, doing things in the cover of darkness, in the early hours when the police shifts change over is something I’ve never gotten into.” Chris would rather paint legally. He usually paints advertisements, including brands such as Heineken and Budweiser. For street artists like Chris, the gentrification of street art is positive. He can partake in an art form he loves and be paid to do it.


However “if you just do stuff legally you're seen as a bit of a wet wipe,” says Reece. It seems there is a decision between being cool and getting paid.


For Ollie, “street art is a conversation, it’s not about ads.” He says graffiti advertising is useful for small businesses such as bars, whereby colourful spray paint can brighten dreary shutters yet when “big corporations get involved it does start to kill it”. Graffiti is a huge part of many underground subcultures and perhaps it is exploitative for corporations to use a culture whose sole purpose is to push back against the mainstream. 


Bristol is also home to Upfest; Europe’s largest street art festival and another reason for street art’s gentrification. In May, around 250 artists from around the world paint spots around Bristol. Paul works for the festival, describing Bristol as a “Mecca for people wanting to come to the city and paint on its walls.” The gentrification of street art has normalised graffiti art. It has given artists a platform. 


“The Instagram boom has also changed street art,” says Ollie. “It’s harder to discover things on your own and it takes away the hidden part of it.” The normality of street art has come at a price. While far more accepted, it has lost its shock value. It feels tame.


Despite this, graffiti art feels vital to its artists. “It’s about keeping yourself sane, man,” says Reece. “I’m a big advocate of mental health. I think street art’s one of the only things that kept me alive during bad periods.” For many, graffiti is escapism. It’s a push back against the boredom of everyday life. “Especially when you're doing it illegally,” says Reece. “When I’m doing it illegally I won’t think about anything except what I’m doing.” Graffiti art remains significant. It’s incredibly important to those that participate, suggesting that while Bristol’s graffiti culture is evolving to be more commercial, its illegal underground sibling will never die. 


So, what is the future of the Graffiti City? 


“Graffiti is part of the identity of the city. It has always been a rebellious and creative city,” says Ollie. “It’s something Bristolians are proud of.” Graffiti culture in Bristol will not die.  It’s “integral to the tapestry of the city,” says Paul. “It may move underground again at some point in the future but there will always be people doing some sort of graffiti or street art within Bristol for sure.” Recce agrees. “The current mayor hates it, but at the same time he wants tourism from it,” he says. “Some people love it and some people hate it, but too many people flock here for it and it’s what the city’s known for.” 


Spray cans will continue to hiss from Totterdown to Easton. Your dad will still claim to know who Banksy is. The Graffiti City will not die.


 Like what you see? Why not try graffiti art for yourself with our tutorial:  

Learn More
Gratitude and gentrification: an ode to the Graffiti City: Welcome
bottom of page