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Around the world, graffiti is seen as protest art, a form of rebellion. But its legitimacy over the last decades has shorn it of its fangs, as in much of the West it has been subdued into merely another form of art practice. That's hardly surprising given how the "underground" is often coopted into the mainstream - whether by the state, or by promoters - in an attempt to make it sterile. It isn't just graffiti that has been subverted though; graphic art which has had dark, strongly gothic origins, has become popular as an art form too, a sure way of flattening the edgy nature of its excesses.
Graffiti came late to India - too late, some might say - to have spurred an artistic revolution. It began in the suburbs of Bandra in Mumbai as an attempt at "beautification", hardly ideal for creating rebel art. Amidst the Bollywood stars and pretty fish and trees, a few zombies did pop up - but it was more comic book than sparky. It spread through the country, most noticeably in Delhi where it found some permanence in Hauz Khas village, among other places, but it was more amusing than dangerous. It had arrived in a morphed form; now it was simply an extension of the prescribed agenda.
So when a tony shopping mall organised a festival of graffiti as a public art project, one had to wonder: Has it been completely legitimised and further coopted as an alternate art practice? In moving it from the street's sidewalks and tunnels to the basement parking of the high-end Select Citywalk, had it been appropriated by corporati? Was the management - or, actually, promoter and art collector Arjun Sharma - finding a way to popularise it: It will be lacquered and retained on the walls for a period of at least a year. I would have liked to ask him too whether he hoped in the course to find or engage exciting new talent, but Sharma had to leave the city on urgent work.
With nearly 200 contesting teams, there was more than enough enthusiasm; rock music belted from giant speakers, turning the venue into a festival. Contestants wore their grubbiest T-shirts and Art in the City aprons. Paints - but not spray cans - had been provided. The mall must have lost considerable parking revenue on the day, calculated upwards of several lakhs according to one official. Certainly, drivers taking their cars down to the lower basement parking appeared amused at the diversion.
The artists had been provided a theme; there were certificates and prizes and the razzmatazz of any competition; but in the end, what of the art? Was there a work among the almost 200 entries - and that's a lot of wall space - that stood out? Was there anything that stunned with its intellectual honesty? I would have to say no. The artists all seemed to have played safe. The symbols they used were banal and commonplace. Were they conscious of the fact that families including small children would be viewing these works, or were they simply incapable of seizing the moment and creating a catalytic moment for the graffiti movement in the country?
Whatever the perspective on the argumentative nature of the art, that a large corporate entity should support such a venture is itself commendable. That the promoter is a premium shopping mall is the more welcome, for it would have every reason to be suspicious rather than supportive of such a venture. Perhaps it was Arjun Sharma and his mall, then, that showed the grit and edginess that the artists should have had the spine to capture.
Kishore Singh is a Delhi-based writer and art critic. These views are personal and do not reflect those of the organisation with which he is associated
