Although graffiti writers and street artists are central to shaping the urban visual landscape, they don’t act alone. Behind the scenes is a network of typically low-visibility individuals and organizations that enable or obstruct these visual interventions.

While considerable attention is paid to the forces that attempt to prevent and abate graffiti and street art (e.g., public works crews, anti-graffiti ordinances, real estate developers, and private property owners), less is understood about the people and mechanisms that enable it.

Among the empowering mechanisms are street photographers, social media, community members, and graffiti and street art tour guides.

The Topography of Graffiti and Street Art Tourism

In recent years, a growing number of individuals and companies have begun offering guided tours centered on graffiti and street art. These typically last a few hours and involve walking through urban neighborhoods where graffiti and street art are especially concentrated. Guides lead small groups to selected walls, alleys, and buildings, and may offer commentary on the works’ history, the writer or artist, the artistic style, cultural context, or political message.

According to Giulia ‘Blocal’ Riva, who is a well-respected street art guide, “these types of tours help people engage more actively with public space, to notice what they would otherwise overlook. They also help decentralize tourism. I live in a city affected by overtourism, and this can be a big pro, both for the city and for the visitors, who get a more authentic experience of the place.”

Graffiti and street art tours are commonly found in large global cities with well-developed tourism infrastructures and visible street art scenes (e.g., New York, Berlin, London, and Paris). Smaller or less globally prominent cities often lack such offerings, even if they have vibrant graffiti and street art cultures of their own.

Finding a tour is relatively straightforward. A quick Google search typically produces a handful of options for local guides or businesses. Platforms like Airbnb Experiences and TripAdvisor also list street art and graffiti tours, often with user reviews. However, the availability, quality, and cultural depth of these tours can vary widely.

As graffiti and street art have become more embedded in urban tourism, questions arise about authenticity, commodification, and control. While some tours help demystify graffiti and street art and connect audiences to local histories, others risk turning “subversive practices” into sanitized attractions (e.g., places where tourists can take their Instagram photos).

Also, tour guides vary considerably in background and expertise. Some are current or former graffiti writers or street artists with firsthand knowledge of the scene; others are enthusiasts or entrepreneurs responding to tourist demand. The quality of the tours tends to reflect this range: while some offer nuanced, in-depth engagement with the local graffiti and street art scene, others deliver more superficial overviews shaped more by spectacle than substance.

Thus, understanding who is curating these experiences, and for what audience, is key to understanding the broader politics of graffiti and street art in the city.

‘Blocal’ Rivas asks, “Is the guide genuinely engaged with street art or graffiti? Do they have a blog, a podcast, a YouTube channel, a newsletter, or some other project that reflects a deeper interest in the scene? Or is it a generic tour sold through platforms like Airbnb or TripAdvisor, which can sometimes be a red flag?”

She adds, “This isn’t just about expertise versus superficial knowledge; it’s also about ethics and respect for the artists, the art form, and the neighborhoods being visited.”

The Limits of Graffiti/Street Art Tourism

I’ve been on a handful of these tours in different cities in North America, Europe, and South America. Guiding tours seems like a tough gig. And it takes more patience than I probably have, especially when it comes to handling repetitive or basic questions from guests.

In fairness to the guide and the patrons, I usually don’t disclose my academic specializations.

I don’t want to disturb the flow of the presentation or make the guide nervous or have a singular conversation with them while the experience unfolds. I prefer to hear their unfiltered version of things and pay close attention to the tourists’ questions, too.

Some of these tours have been excellent, while others have been poor. The great tours are given by people who have a deep knowledge of graffiti and street art. Not only do the guides understand the subject at a deep level, but they are also aware of neighborhood dynamics. Guides adeptly answer the patrons’ questions. Good tours are dynamic and interactive; it would be very weird if the guide were the only one doing the talking. Good tours are more like a dialogue, an exchange, rather than a lecture.

However, the limitations of some tours are worth noting. Many restrict themselves to sanitized, downtown areas. They avoid the so-called “bad neighborhoods,” where some of the most authentic and politically impactful work appears. In these cases, this kind of graffiti and street art tourism isn’t just failing to tell the full story; it’s reinforcing spatial segregation and aesthetic gentrification. Then again, taking a large group to a disadvantaged area is potentially invasive and uncomfortable, not just for the people accompanying the tour guide, but for the residents of these areas, too. These types of tours can also quickly devolve into a form of middle-class voyeurism.

Although I’m not sure why, the tours tend to lean heavily on street art over graffiti.

Gatekeepers, Guides, and Gaps

Tour guides can play a unique role in shaping their customers’ understanding of graffiti and street art. Some are genuinely knowledgeable and embedded in the culture, while others repeat misinformation or simplified narratives.

With the bad tours, the information conveyed usually does not get much deeper than what one might encounter reading a Wikipedia entry; light on details, strong on reification and spectacle.

And I often find myself wincing at inaccuracies conveyed by the tour guide, but I try to remind myself that these tours are more about increasing public access than conveying expertise.

I also suspect that most tourists on these walks just want a broad introduction to the major walls and iconic pieces and would be bored to death with the kind of scholarly analysis that appears in academic journals.

The tours also offer an entry point into a world that’s otherwise difficult for most people to penetrate, especially if you don’t have direct contacts in the graffiti/street art community in a particular city.

And if you are thinking, wouldn’t it be better to have actual graffiti writers and street artists show you around? Perhaps. But many practitioners are rightly suspicious of outsiders. Many practitioners remain justifiably wary of outsiders. Their work often involves real risk, ranging from legal consequences to reputational harm, and they are frequently misread by law enforcement, the public, or even well-meaning cultural intermediaries.

The idea of giving strangers, regardless of their role in the graffiti and street art ecosystem, a backstage pass can be or feel dangerous to them. Plus, many graffiti writers and street artists are often overly biased. They like to think that they or their crew were the first to do something and spend a lot of time shit talking others. Thus, it’s doubtful that they would highlight works by ‘rival’ crews on their tours, even when those pieces are politically or historically significant.

A Call for Deeper Engagement

Undoubtedly, graffiti and street art guides are part of the urban tourist economy. They compete with other niche tours (e.g., celebrity homes, grave sites, or other kinds of dark tourism).

If we want to appreciate graffiti and street art, we need to look beyond the visible and ask: Who enables this work? Who suppresses it? Who frames it for public consumption? And who gets left out of that story? This also involves understanding local issues that touch upon gentrification, voyeurism, or the commodification of everyday life.

Understanding these contextual issues is important. It reveals the tension between creation and erasure, visibility and invisibility, recognition, and marginalization. It also highlights the fact that for every artist celebrated in a gallery or online post, dozens of others don’t get the attention that they rightly deserve.

(special thanks to Gulia ‘Blocal’ Riva for comments on an earlier draft)

Illustration note

A Japanese tourist consulting a tourist guide and a guide book from Akizato Ritō’s Miyako meisho zue (1787)