Graffiti and the hidden identity of Iowa City

Iowa City has as much of a personality as the people who call it home, and just like the friends I’ve made here, it seems to get more personal and unique the more time I spend with it.

The graffiti around this city, even if it’s not necessarily supposed to be there, is just another characteristic of this place that is beautiful in its own way.

Just walking to class there’s noticeable graffiti around Iowa City. A skeleton smoking a cigarette in the tunnel by the IMU was eventually covered by white paint that was then plastered with the words “third shift.” Eyes, followed by some figure wearing a crown, peer out at me on my walk to class like they’re making sure I’m going.

As I walk near the English and Philosophy Building I like to ponder the duality to the words “fear naught,” and on my way to the library I always notice the “go hawks” under the bridge by Burlington.

These were the things that inspired me to explore the other graffiti in Iowa City.

And I wasn’t disappointed when I did.

On a gloomy Wednesday, just the kind fit for exploring alleys and braving cigarette laden hidden courtyards, I was introduced to a side of Iowa City that I wouldn’t have known before.

The tiger hawk was quick to catch my eye, but as I went on I started to see Iowa City for more than the people who wear black and gold everyday.

I caught a glimpse in to the lives of those who might not be at tailgate every Saturday in the fall, people that I will probably never know but suddenly felt intrigued and inspired by…

Under the face on the left, in bright red letters, it used to say “Don’t call me Frank.”

My grandfather’s name is Frank. It’s a good name- not for everyone though, I guess. There’s gotta be a story there.

The peeling paper cakes were used to cover up graffiti along this whole wall. This particular section said, “Daddy didn’t hug me so now I tag walls.”

One of our Tab editors angsty fifteen year old sister was showing me the best places for graffiti and I asked her about the cakes.

“No idea” she said, and wandered toward another wall of painted words.

It’s easy to forget, looking at concrete and paint through the screen of my iPhone, that somebody decided to buy a can of spray paint and sneak in to an alley to do this.

Somebody considers themselves a “bandit” and others probably consider them a vandal. I enjoyed simply considering them at all- and maybe that’s all they wanted.

When I first looked back at this photo I was suddenly haunted by the thought that the person who made this had envisioned someone like me stopping to photograph it – like I was working with them to complete the picture.

Questions seem to carry a lot more gravity when they’re under a staircase.

As much as I want to know who killed the world, I really want to know who’s asking.

 

Ever noticed that IC sounds like ‘I see?’

In a few spots it’s hard to tell where graffiti meets street art in Iowa City. Somehow, vandalism has collided with art here, and “tagging walls” verges on professionalism. In debating whether I should limit the photos in this article to more typical graffiti, I became sort of enchanted by the fact that I even had to make such a decision. This city has blurred the lines between trouble maker and artist- a line that probably never needed to exist in the first place. It allows for questions,statements, and expression in ways that most cities try desperately to eliminate, and I fell more and more in love with this place as I saw this new side of it.

Just like the famous sculpture on the T. Anne Cleary walkway, Iowa City acts like a brain- neurons firing and connections being made every second. Most of my time here seems to be occupied with the logical left side of this brain- the university, classes, libraries. But when I walked through the alleys and found myself staring at brick walls covered with ivy and art, I felt like I was hearing the thoughts that occupy the right side of Iowa City’s brain. The creative, intuitive, and imaginative side. A side that we all have, and that deserves attention- even if it only means keeping your eyes peeled and mind open as you exist here in Iowa City.

After all, as a teacher of mine once said, “everything is art if you allow it to be.”