Embracing Ornamentation: Street Art in Barcelona
In Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter a ceramic tile sits unobtrusively, decidedly camouflaged to match the coursing of the historic brick façade (figure 1). Around the corner, a diorama depicts an airplane crashing into a body of water with a poem that describes the feeling of an unanswered telephone call (figure 2). Treasures like these reward the urban flâneur with a new kind of street art, emerging in response to increasing government control and corporatization of Barcelona’s graffiti scene. This new street art is characterized by the proliferation of installations: the ceramics, sculptures, mosaics, poems, collages, and dioramas that now decorate the streets of Barcelona.
Street art emerged in Barcelona in the late 1970s after the repressive Franco era. By the turn of the millennium, the city held the unofficial title of “street art capital of the world” recognized for a colorful, playful, and cartoon-like aesthetic known as Barcelona Style (figure 3). This recognition attracted international graffiti artists to the city, adding to an already established and rapidly growing subculture. Linking graffiti with crime and urban decay, the city increased control over street art and graffiti, imposing new legislation in 2006. It became illegal to graffiti building facades. Doors and shutters of privately owned businesses were exempt from the restrictions, being regarded as the property owner’s prerogative.
Thus, Barcelona’s facades reveal an active painting subculture largely confined to the shutters and doors of private businesses, disappearing during the day when shops are open. Some owners prefer to leave their shutters as an overnight canvas, while others attempt to control the appearance of their closed shopfronts by commissioning artists with curated graphics that complement the identity or brand of their business (figure 4). Even so, this practice has been regarded as “anti-social behavior” that is visually degrading to the urban fabric: more than 160 shop owners were fined by local authorities in 2010. Meanwhile, a discernable dichotomy is reinforced by the city’s graffiti removal task force, which ignores shutters and doors, yet covers up wall graffiti with a neutral color palette of beige (figure 5).
Increasing government control has pushed some street artists to rely on corporate entities to provide free legal walls for painting. Founded in 2012 in collaboration with Barcelona’s city council, Wallspot aims to regenerate urban areas by encouraging street art to occur in prescribed locations. Jardin de les Tres Xemeneies–Gardens of the Three Chimneys–is one of five urban parks designated for graffiti in the city (figure 6). Corporate entities make room as well: the Arnau Gallery, for example, dedicates over thirty square meters of mural space for the collaboration of both local and international artists.
Perhaps as a response to its illegality, graffiti in Barcelona has captured the imagination of corporate advertisers who appeal to a younger generation by capitalizing on the culture of tagging. Collaborating with Mango Man, Andre Saraiva is seen on a bus shelter advert promising an exclusive new collection, a meet and greet, and customizable graffiti garments (figure 7). Establishing a reputation in the 1990s for his kooky character known as Mr. A, Saraiva is one of the many artists to have successfully made the shift to the museum and gallery art world, away from illegally tagging. On his website, Saraiva describes this transformation in terms of location instead of legality, shifting his art from “the wall[s] of the street to the walls of clubs.” Perhaps unwittingly, Saraiva is fueling a correspondence between graffiti as tagging and corporate ads as tagging public space.
Some artists choose to exist in the commodified art world while continuing to illegally paint the streets. El Pez, known for his smiling blue fish, began tagging Barcelona in the 1990s, transitioning into gallery work in the last decade (figure 8). With his art for sale in Base Elements, a gallery proudly showcasing the work of “some of the most iconic names,” El Pez is uniquely positioned between an underground movement and an increasingly commodified genre. Now residing in Bogota with his wife and kids, El Pez makes a conscious effort to tag Barcelona’s streets annually, making sure to leave his impress.
In face of legislation and the graffiti clean-up crew, graffiti artists have increasingly turned to installations that decorate Barcelona’s facades. Noticeably different from traditional spray-can graffiti, installations are unique in terms of style, materials, and process. Smaller in scale and rich in detail, they are often prepared off-site, brought to a specific location, and installed in broad daylight. A plaque placed discreetly above a shop’s entryway reads “Will Coles Installation Artist was here 2017” featuring an English Heritage logo, imitating the recognizable blue plaques found in London (figure 9). Another by the same artist displays a relief of a bumblebee with the words “you need us more than we need you,” accompanied by five ceramics, one painted cardboard box, and a diorama (figure 10).
The government’s willingness to countenance installations while actively removing traditional spray-can graffiti speaks to a changing relationship between licit and illicit spaces in Barcelona. The corporatization of the subculture has transformed how graffiti artists interact with the built environment, providing a longer lifespan to graffiti as installation. On the façade of a popular tourist street, beige paint hastily applied to the intricate contours of a light pink creature is an indicator of this changing dynamic, intentionally preserved along with four other neighboring installations (figure 11). A few blocks away an impressive collection of ceramics, mosaics, and images printed on laminated cardboard has survived years without intervention, quietly garnering attention with local artists positioned next to a piece by the notorious Invader (figure 12).
Two decades since Barcelona held global recognition for its unique street art style, the subculture has radically changed. It now embraces ornamentation through a new decorative style that enhances the artist’s ability to communicate their place within the urban landscape. As opposed to graffiti as a large-scale means of claiming public space, installations assert ownership politely. Typically positioned above eye-level, this new street art type avoids confrontation while often presenting provocative messages and meanings. Graffiti as ornamentation rewards the casual observer and flaneur who happens to notice.
