As a city grows, its citizens are increasingly disconnected from both their environment and each other. The larger a city becomes, the more difficult it is for people to both relate to their environment and to others. Some attribute this to advertising, others to city businesses. The question then becomes: Is it justifiable for the citizens of a city to alter their environment — illegally mind you — to counter the dehumanizing effect of growth and general urban saturation?

Modern graffiti art began in late 1960s New York, where a handful of pioneering youth decided to write their own monikers on walls, streets and subways, essentially turning the entire city into a canvas. This act of writing all over the city triggered the creation of a highly competitive subculture that attracted urban youth at an increasing rate. Due to the competitive nature of the culture, the way in which the monikers were written became highly stylized. The letters grew increasingly abstract and colorful, which contrasted heavily with the stark, grey, urban world of metal and concrete.

The New York graffiti movement was ended in the late 1980s when the city government reinforced train yards with barbed wire, began washing and buffing train cars when they left the yards, and removed train cars from circulation that had been tagged. The city government held that graffiti is merely a destruction of property and a sign of urban decay. This has become the established stance of most city governments across the world. However, is graffiti really a sign of urban decay or just a response to it?

In order to better discuss this, let us look at Madison.

Madison has a population of approximately 200,000 people. It’s a small city, a capitol city, a city that is often ranked highly as a city to live in. It is a city with a top-tier university and yet, even here, in such a glorious place to live, one finds graffiti. On the sidewalks and walls of the university, stencils dominate. On many metallic surfaces on State Street, stickers dominate. On walls further away from student life, spray paint dominates. Madison has a comprehensive and diverse graffiti subculture, so does this insinuate that Madison is in a state of urban decay? I don’t see it.

One would also be hard-pressed to make the argument that advertisers and businesses are ruining the Madison urban environment; if anything, one could say that Madison is a good example of how business, advertising and citizenry maintain a healthy balance. Since that is the case, what does the proliferation of graffiti in Madison suggest?

I believe that more than merely a reaction to perceived urban decay or a process of urban reclamation, graffiti allows for an intimate connection between the artist and the viewer. Graffiti overall, but specifically in Madison, seeks to convey a state, a message: whether it be humor, lamentation, pride, sadness, anger or revelation; it is constantly seeking to capture the viewer, to stop someone from merely passing by, and to ask, “What do you think?”

Graffiti, no matter where it is, cannot be attributed to any one motive. It is not always a sign of urban decay or always a sign against it. It is not always an attempt at reclaiming the urban. It is not always a destruction of property. Graffiti all over the world and in Madison is more a process of humanizing the urban, of creating attachments and sentiment in odd places. So, is it justifiable for the citizens of a city to illegally alter their environment to counter the dehumanization of growth and general urban saturation? Yes. It’s the human touch that makes a city really shine… and Madison is shining bright.

Wasim Salman ([email protected]) is currently a senior majoring in international studies.