Enticed by the city's pulsating hub of artistic achievements, Tuis, a 30-year-old, self-made Chilean artist whose real identity remains a guarded secret, navigates the challenges of surviving as a working creative in London’s competitive industries. “Art should be reflective or an analysis of life, you do not need to go to a place, you just need to be in your mind”. Broadening his international reputation, Tuis provides an insight into the evolution of graffiti acceptance, once regarded as a clandestine artwork, now appreciated across various cultures as an empowering tool for expression through colour explosions and raw emotion.
“Graffiti found me”
Growing up in Santiago, renowned for its art-saturated streets and for pioneering the history of political expression through murals, Tuis’ first exposure to the graffiti style was as a 14-year-old in a math class, in 2007. “My mate in a math’s class showed me how to draw letters with volume”. Ignited by the desire to express himself through art, Tuis had found a new passion and something to call his. Indicative of his humble upbringing, the lack of access to luxury technologies and sharing a room with his sister is reflected by his hard work and passionate efforts, “Even my room wasn't mine, so when I found graffiti, I was like, wow, this is cool, you know?”
Tucked beneath a railway bridge in Tottenham, North London, the legal graffiti walls nestled inside Markfield Park stand as a celebration of creative freedom, where the hum of trains passing by meets the collective ambiance enlivened by the kaleidoscope of murals and tags that adorn the skatepark. Well acquainted with the scene, Tuis invited me to the spot for a one-to-one intimate graffiti workshop. Enlightening me on the unwritten codes that artists follow to respect fellow creatives on the streets, the artist mentioned how “others will not like what you paint”, emphasising the thick skin and resilience that must be obtained to learn from bad experiences and challenges that come with limited wall space on the streets of London, emulating the competitive nature behind the scenes.
Offering me a visual demonstration of his style with a tag of his crew, Tuis began sketching the letters “S M O”. Enthusiastically, I enquired the meaning while simultaneously balancing on the edge of the concrete skate bowl where I was perched. Studying his art process, I noticed the fastidious attention given to perfecting his throw-up; the act of writing a complex name or piece and then ‘throwing’ it onto a surface as quickly as possible. Spectating the progress, I found an acquired joy in listening to the hopeful rattle inside the can, praying that the paint had not yet dried. Reminding me of the eagle, with eyes like precision instruments, capturing minute details, Tuis maintained utmost vigilance toward perfecting his art, rewarded by the completion of his masterpiece. Concluding the tag with an outline is a skill that requires a fine line of paint motion that ultimately separates the amateurs from the experienced professionals.
Uncovering how he became a member of SMO, Tuis depicted the sombre scene of him moving to London and feeling alone as an immigrant artist, “I didn't have any friends because I arrived alone”. Luckily his determination led him to socially gain from his talents, appreciating graffiti as “the door that opened; A step inside for knowing how big London is and meeting the talented people who surround this place”. Alluding to the multiple meanings of SMO, Tuis revealed how his crew has various meanings for the acronym, the current one being the cheerful phrase “Smile More Often”, representing the diverse group of talented graffiti artists in the UK who collaborate and uplift each other's artwork. “Graffiti helped me make friends”, leveraging his skills as an advantageous breach inside the scope of inner street art cultures. Opportunities for collaboration brought Tuis companionship among fellow artists. Specifically, in befriending other migrating creatives who align intending to successfully represent their cultures through powerful political messages often inspired by the fomentation of radical social change. Close friend and fellow crew mate, Sorres, met with Tuis and invited me to watch an improvised graffiti collaboration at Markfield Park. Honourably accepting, I took mental recordings of the effortless demonstration of two proficient artists being receptive and open to each other's ideas and styles, the final piece was inspired by a love of the nostalgic 2009 video game, Angry Birds. Wondering how graffiti shapes his identity as a man, Tuis replied, “In a complete way, it's my life, it's my style.” The overrepresentation of male graffiti artists raises the question of why men are so passionate about rebelling against the dominant and industrialised portrayals of masculinity, indicating that one of the reasons graffiti is made public is to evoke the advocation of individual perception, no matter what race, gender, social status or age.
The inspiration behind ‘Smile More Often’ acts a commemoration to front-line workers during the peak of the Covid virus. In Chile, he shared the significance of acknowledging the “foncineros los publicos”, translating to the public/ civil workers of the state. As witnesses of the powerful acts that civilian workers risked keeping their jobs, the ‘smile more often’ phrase painted across buildings, symbolises the message of being presently grateful, sparking a motivational lift and a deserved sense of importance in spiritual oneness, a noticeably absent factor during the period of isolation from other social beings. As someone with limited knowledge of graffiti culture, I was amazed by the collective altruism the art form can represent, as often urban citizens negate the common themes that are represented throughout street art; connection, a sense of belonging, opening people's eyes on different perspectives to prominent issues, the pure delight in witnessing a piece you’ve never seen before, and the unpredictability of when it may be covered up and gone forever.
“You can have pieces that stay up for 3 years in Chile and no one's going to touch it; there’s a bit more respect. Here, it’s more difficult, but the scene is much better.”
Like many people in artistic professions, particularly those whose arts disseminate throughout cultural capitals, the intensity of experimenting with your unique perspectives while self-disciplining and remaining unfazed amidst rivalry and jealousy can pose quite a challenge. Tuis delineates the differing factors that separate illegal graffiti from street art, arguing that “people don't want tax in the streets: nice murals bring tax”. The economic development that murals and public art generate overshines the art of “real graffiti artists”. He claims, “Before, graffiti was at a middle point; people paint and they don't cover each other, it was more respectful at the beginning”, comparing it to the current conditions which have immensely changed, making the game more difficult for better and worse. “It was clear what was graffiti, now it's more complicated; street artists, muralists and even graffiti guys who want to do more professional things like characters, have more opportunities, people are paying more and understanding the opportunities to have their artwork in a shop, or on a canvas in a frame”.
According to research from the California Centre of The Arts, “The presence of public art can attract creative individuals and businesses to a community, contributing to the growth of the creative economy.” Concurrently, Shoreditch is regarded as a notable tourist discovery and the cultural haven of street art in London. With many of his pieces stapled across the streets behind Brick Lane, the “land of no one” homes myriads of ever-changing graffiti landscapes that transport the mind of visitors into adopting a more colourful and fantastical way of perceiving life around them. Competing to be the best is not something Tuis fears, the artist declared, “I like the competition, it's a way of being better”, divining how challenges create a positive impact for artists in the long term.
Reflecting on society's changing attitude around the topic of street artists, the temporal shift in the debate surrounding the celebration or condemnation of graffiti has sparked lively discussion and possibly reached a consensus. The latest YouGov poll conducted in February 2023 identifying whether the British public considers graffiti to be art or not. The poll revealed that a resounding 67% of people consider graffiti to be an acceptable form of art. “Graffiti has a different type of law”. Observing the impermanence of some of his artwork throughout the years around the streets of London, Tuis adds: “I don’t take it personally”. Claiming he has learnt to master the state of “detachment” aiding him to explore the depth behind each of his pieces, fully conveying his feelings through the medium of visual art.
“I’m already in the dream, I’m doing my dream”
“I want to live from this”. Yearning to make graffiti his full time profession through commissions, Tuis suggests intentional thought to beginner painters: “It’s good when you’re not scared about your feelings” inferring that the emotions he allows himself to process are those which he expresses through painting with colours. Encapsulating his goal down to a sentence, he summarises “To make grafitti possible for future generations”.
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