The Graffiti of China
Tucked in the corner of the Chinese coastal city of Qingdao, a sprawling group of buildings tagged from head to toe sprouts out of the grey world around it.
You'll find hundreds of pieces scattered across the six blocks of the square. All of which culminates in the heart of the Qingdao graffiti scene: two stone sarcophagus-like buildings connected by a sky bridge. Just a glance at the building tells a plethora of stories.
I learned about this place through my friend Art4Brains, a long-time established artist. He invited me to accompany him for his first time working with wall-scale graffiti.
A vibrant community of creators and nonconformists convene within these tangled streets. But one name is found on the face of the broadest building, Ice, a leader of the SDF crew. The group has nine members who call the Textile Valley home.
Ice, a hero to the community as proclaimed by SDF member Louie, discovered the “Textile Valley” in 2017. In danger of being torn down, he contacted the owners of the compound and convinced them to allow him to create the decrepit building into a graffiti art district.
The Textile Valley grants artists a safe space to create without worries of repercussion or judgment. Areas like these are invaluable to the art scene of China, as graffiti and the Middle Kingdom have a checkered past.
“I discovered “Textile Valley” in 2017. It felt like the street had a unique architectural style, a bit like a bankrupt Detroit. I wanted to keep it from being torn down, so I contacted the owners of Textile Valley. Finally, they agreed that I would turn it into a graffiti art district” — Ice
Qingdao is just one city of thousands in China. It is relatively small compared to Tier 1 cities like Beijing, Shanghai, or Chengdu. Yet despite Qingdao’s size, Ice and his team continue to foster a creative and exciting community. However, most cities do not have the luxury of having an open compound to practice their craft.
You can’t find graffiti in places you’d typically expect in China. Going downtown or in popular shopping areas, murals and basic tagging are nonexistent.
Why is it so hard to find graffiti in China?
As a superpower society, China has instilled surveillance throughout its homeland. According to Paul Bischoff of Comparitech, there are 415 million CCTV cameras throughout all of China as of May 2021. This restricts the opportunity to tag freely in open space, as fines and repercussions for being caught can be pretty hefty.
Fines vary depending on severity. There are official fines like the Great Wall at $30-60 dollars if caught, but now more than ever, a punishment is decided at the authority’s discretion. This is the most significant deterrent for graffiti in public spaces, as one’s fate will be determined based wholly on the officer’s mood and opinion.
An example of authority moving against graffiti is seen before the 2014 APEC economic summit in Beijing. Over a week’s time, virtually all street art, even in sanctioned areas, was painted over in an attempt to clean the city’s image, as described by Lance Crayon.
These efforts have remained strong and have surpassed just the streets of Beijing. On a national level, defacing public property is often described as tuya (涂鸦) or a child’s scribbles. This word is typically switched out through translation to the English “graffiti.” Used to describe any defacement, not just murals or artistic expression.
The news will blare and official WeChat accounts will condemn as expected but will tie it all to the relatively-stagnant graffiti scene. This rapport paints an immeasurably negative picture of the ordinary person in graffiti's artistic expression.
According to Crayon, the time has passed since the “Silver Age” of China graffiti, approximately 2009–2013. The public image, surveillance, and restriction of canvasses have minimal artists' opportunities to put their work out into the world.
This public shutdown makes way for more community projects and areas, including Beijing’s 798 district, Shanghai’s M50, Guangzhou’s Redtory, and Qingdao’s Textile Valley. These spaces allow aspiring artists to hone their craft without fear of fines or repercussions. Although few and far between, these spaces should be celebrated for opening avenues for artists to explore their creativity in a “non-traditional” setting.
China’s Graffiti History, Then and Now
China has a long cultural tie to graffiti. The art form took its initial shape in China as the “Red Letter Era.” As described by the director of the documentary Spray Paint Beijing, Crayon explained how in the 1920s, red lettering would be displayed across neighborhood walls to broadcast communist ideals. This use of paint on walls to spread information and cultural ideas set its roots early on and still survives today.
Things have changed in the graffiti scene and China over time. While there are still examples of political expression in the background, see ABS crew’s 2011 pig (view The Guardian's great collection here), it is without a say riskier to speak out through your art as you run the high chance of having your work being covered.
Most work displays China’s extensive 3,000-year culture while steering relatively clear of political ideology. Beautiful murals illustrate each artist’s ideas of their own identity. Once artists have established themselves thoroughly, they tend to find work in contracting positions to paint murals on business walls. This, along with other facets of graffiti contracting, extends a fiat hand to burgeoning artists.
Most artists of the new generation can lend their growth and start to artists of the past, including WRECK, ZATO, China’s “first graffiti artist” Zhang Dali, and the prolific DALeast. Aspiring graffiti artists have a plethora of history to learn from and burgeoning communities to be a part of.
During my time in Textile Valley, I saw the passion, fire, and unbridled joy within these artists to achieve their goals. The SDF crew continues to push the envelope and create on their terms.
My experience thus far has been just one city of the thousands out there. I can say that I will be returning to Textile Valley and making my way to more spots to continue to follow this scene’s growth.
Although the history of graffiti in China is primarily bleak, time shows that there will always be barrier breakers and nonconformists that will continue to share their vision with the rest of the world. The least we can do as viewers is to lend them our eyes to see their story unfold.
For more in-depth culture through breakdowns of food, music, drinks, and history, check-in on both my Instagram and LinkedIn.
