IT’S election time, and the Election Commission is monitoring political graffiti. And the question rages again, is it vandalism, or is it art? Art is at its best if it is feared; revolutionary when disguised, and avant garde if on the run. Modern street art, since its emergence in the 1920s, has been targeted as vandalism; that many countries across the world have created policing departments to curtail it is illuminative of the effect it can have over society. In a significant turn of events, “Crayon cops” sat with their nemesis at a New York conference to discuss the impact of graffiti, thereby shaking modern art discourse.

Contemporary modern art challenged the thesis of classical vs non-classical art; art’s role in society was once considered to be a medium of knowledge: specific in its message, aesthetically obvious and defined. Then came Marcel Duchamp’s famous urinal in 1917. This piece of work was, for its audience, at once both distasteful and dynamic. Critics were keen to point out that art no longer conveyed knowledge, thus arguing that it had diminished in value.

Alongside, the graffiti movement was developing through the works of Seen UA. His art, akin to Picasso’s famous “Guernica”, mirrored the tragedies of war. Art through graffiti challenged state policy and carried with it a staunch anti-war stance. British graffiti artist Banksy’s message was a powerful impetus behind the anti Iraq War youth rallies held across Europe. Works were concurrently destroyed, walls painted over and the message hidden. The fact that artists who were traditionally on the run are intermingling with those who were keen to put them behind bars indicates that we are moving closer to an acceptance of public opinion and speech. It is perhaps through the power of imagery that future political upheavals might be avoided.