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Five books on graffiti, from the photographs that saved the painted trains to the histories that trace the form from Philadelphia to today.
In this article
Graffiti is easy to see and hard to read. A wall of tags, throw-ups and pieces looks like noise until someone teaches you the vocabulary, and then it begins to look like what it is: a lettering culture with its own rules, rivals and masters. In our guide to graffiti, from Pompeii to Port-au-Prince, we followed that culture from a teenager’s nickname on a subway platform to the courtrooms and museums that still argue over it. The five books below let you go deeper, and most of them were made by people who stood close enough to the walls to hear them.
This list is built around three kinds of reading. The first is the photographic record, because the painted trains of the 1970s and 1980s were scrubbed away and the pictures are often all that survives. The second is the early reporting, by a novelist and a researcher who went looking while the culture was still new. The third is the histories, which pull those threads together and follow them to Philadelphia, to the freight yards and to the cities that now commission what they once prosecuted. Each book is linked below, and each gives a different answer to the same question: what exactly did these young people make?
If you read only one book on this list, make it this one. Martha Cooper and Henry Chalfant spent years photographing the painted trains of New York, and Subway Art, first published in 1984, gathered the best of those pictures just as the cars were about to disappear. Writers around the world still call it the bible of the form, and it is easy to see why: it was the first book many of them ever held that took their work seriously.
What makes it more than a picture album is how much it records besides paint. There are portraits of the writers, glimpses of the yards where the work was made, and enough captions and context to teach a newcomer the difference between a tag, a throw-up and a piece. The trains themselves were cleaned or scrapped, so these photographs are the archive. It is a record and an education in a single volume, and it is the best place to start training your eye.
Norman Mailer wrote this essay when the culture was only a few years old, and he did something few established writers of his standing would have done then: he took it seriously. Paired with Jon Naar’s photographs of New York walls and trains from the early 1970s, the essay is a time capsule of the moment when the city began to realise that its surfaces were being claimed, one nickname at a time.
Mailer’s reading is personal and openly argumentative, which is part of its value. He treats the act of writing a name as a kind of faith, a young person’s insistence on being counted, and that idea has been argued over ever since. The book is short, and Naar’s pictures show the form in its early years, before the elaborate lettering of later decades, which makes it a useful companion to the larger archives that came afterward.
Craig Castleman’s study is the book that explains how the culture worked from the inside. He spent time with writers and let them speak, and the result is a close account of how a young person became a writer: how names were chosen, how skills were handed down, how crews formed, and how the rules of style and respect were kept by other writers rather than by anyone with official authority.
It also takes the opposing side seriously, following the transit officials and politicians who saw painted trains as proof of a city out of control. That tension runs through our own guide, from the Clean Train program to the day the trains died. If Subway Art shows you the work, Getting Up shows you the world around it, and the two read best side by side.
Roger Gastman turns the clock back to the years before the subway golden age, when graffiti was erupting in Philadelphia and New York and nobody had yet decided what to call it. The book gathers photographs and context to show how spray paint, a marker and a nickname became a movement in the late 1960s and early 1970s. It is the best way to meet Cornbread, Taki 183 and the writers who followed them, the names our guide begins with.
The subtitle gives away the tone. This is graffiti before the gallery shows, the arrests and the arguments hardened into positions. Gastman is curious about the technology that made fast, portable colour possible, about the social upheaval of the period, and about the teenagers who saw a city full of blank surfaces and a chance to be known. It is a large and handsome book, and its pictures reward slow looking.
Where Wall Writers lingers on the beginning, this book tells the wider American story. Gastman and Neelon follow the form from its earliest tags through the subway era, the war on the trains and the rise of regional scenes in cities far beyond New York, with photographs, interviews and a clear sense of how each place developed its own dialect.
Because it covers so much ground, it is the book to keep nearby while you read the others. It puts the New York story in perspective, shows how writers in other cities solved the same problems with different means, and carries the history close to the present. For a reader who wants a single volume that links the subway yards, the freight trains and the legal walls that now dot almost every city, this is the one to choose.
Read together, these five books give graffiti the full hearing it rarely gets. Cooper and Chalfant preserve the work, Mailer and Castleman explain what the early writers were doing and why, and the two Gastman histories place it in time and across the country. Along the way they back up the argument at the heart of our guide: graffiti is a form of calligraphy invented by teenagers, in public, without permission, and it deserves to be read as carefully as any lettering tradition.
Start with the photographs and let them train your eye, then move to the reporting and the histories as your questions grow. The next time you stand in front of a painted wall, look for the name, the outline beneath the fill and the rhythm of the letters. If you want to follow the urban arts a step further, our companion reading lists on street art and guerilla art carry the story from letters to pictures to unannounced interventions.
About the author
CreARTivity Recreational Team
The Recreational Team runs Fanarts Corner, CreARTivity's space for readers who make things: creative tools and software, books worth owning, and contests and opportunities worth entering. Recommendations are chosen on merit, and where a link earns a commission it is disclosed. Edited by Marie Juliane David.
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