Simon Horsford visits prolific local graffiti artist, muralist and graffiti workshop facilitator Tommy the Vandalist in his Somerset studio for a masterclass in the culture and history behind street art, and a deep dive into Bristol’s role in empowering the people behind the spray cans
Given their roots in 1970s New York, graffiti and street art have always had distinctly urban associations. So it’s quite the contrast to be deep in the Somerset countryside on a frosty winter morning and be surrounded by a collection of spray-painted and graffiti-strewn old cars, buses, shipping containers and even a boat. Whitelake Park is a creative space and “artists’ playground” in Pylle, near Shepton Mallet, where, behind a sliding black entry gate, lies a colourfully alternative environment (it’s also one of the entrance points for the Glastonbury Festival). I’m here to meet the graffiti artist and muralist Tommy the Vandalist. No surnames in this world.
Tommy has a studio here, a large, converted, former NHS x-ray truck and more recently the crew lorry for a marquee company. It’s cold and condensation drips from the ceiling as I survey his lair: trays of spray paints and paint pens in a variety of colours and lots of paint masks. Tommy is both an artist – his work can primarily be seen at various AirHop trampoline park venues (such as at Bristol, Blackpool and Warwick) and he collaborates with the Carhenge team at Glastonbury (of which more later) – and a graffiti teacher, who runs classes for kids and adults in Bristol and at Whitelake.
First off, I want to grasp the difference between street art and graffiti. “Graffiti and street art are two separate things,” says Tommy, “graffiti started in 1970s New York with the rise of the hip hop movement. The four elements were: graffiti, break dancing, rapping and DJ’ing. And graffiti artists were very much into that. Then people like Banksy and other artists and muralists [came along] and they would consider that [version] to be street art and not graffiti, because it doesn’t stick to the values of what that [particular] underground movement considered graffiti. They would consider graffiti as tagging, throw-ups or pieces [these denote and are defined by the size and intricacy and complexity of the lettering, which, in turn, would be a particular artist’s stylised signature].
“It’s all about the characters and being as prolific as possible,” says Tommy “and creating a name and styles within letters and even letter styles themselves. There are rules to it.” Essentially street art is seen as being more formal and can utilise a variety of mediums, whereas, Tommy adds: “the legality of it comes in to the mix too with graffiti tending towards the illegal” – so spray-painting in an unauthorised location.
Sub(way)culture
In many ways, the art form gained initial prominence with the publication of the seminal photographic book Subway Art by Martha Cooper and Henry Chalfant in 1984. It documented numerous aspects of the art on the New York subway system – its origins and history, styles and techniques, vocabulary and conventions. Often referred to as the “bible of graffiti”, it is claimed that at one time, it was one of the most frequently stolen books in Britain.
The book, adds Tommy, was one of the reasons, apart from the music (from the likes of Grandmaster Flash, Run DMC and Public Enemy) that graffiti and street art crossed the Atlantic.
And Bristol played a key part in that transfer with many, Tommy says, tracing the roots of the city’s – and Britain’s – street art scene back to John Nation’s Art Project at Barton Hill Youth Centre in the mid Eighties. Nation was a youth worker at the centre, known as the “Dug Out”, and he encouraged budding artists (including the likes of Banksy, Inkie and Cheo) to spray paint its walls. The centre (most recently a boxing club) is now up for sale, but it’s still home to what is said to be the oldest surviving Banksy, Poodle Bulldog. Nation now runs the Where the Wall tours around Bristol.
It was, adds Tommy, 31, and so too young to be part of Barton Hill, “a cultural hub where people would come and draw and paint.” He also taps into what it is about graffiti that gives it a rebellious feel. “It is a way for youth to feel heard and be creative, while being a bit anti-establishment.” For some men too, adds Tommy, it is a way to be artistically inventive but also “cool and masculine.” He adds, however, that it is far from exclusively male, as Tommy references numerous female graffiti artists, including in Bristol, RBF, an all-girl crew.
That idea of freedom has also been cited by one-time street artist Robert Del Naja, who as 3D went on to be a founding member of Massive Attack giving the art form further reach. In a video interview last year on the art blog Inspiring City, he talked about being rejected by an art school and reacting by “wanting to express myself” but on his terms. Street art and graffiti, he continued, are about “free expression” and can give “an amazing feeling of achievement”. The video includes grainy footage of him in the 1980s creating an image of Robert De Niro from Taxi Driver on Lower Park Row.
Another prominent street artist back in the day was the musician, producer and DJ Goldie, who last year (2024) marked 30 years of his MetalHeadz drum and bass label by bringing together some of the original pioneers of street art from Bristol, New York, London and Paris from the 1980s and ‘90s to paint a 200ft mural by the IKEA car park in Eastville with giant letters spelling out the words Mighty Headz; the work celebrates the label, together with Bristol landmarks and the New York skyline.
Fine-tuning his craft
Born in Frome, where he still lives after a 10-year spell in Bristol, Tommy’s route to graffiti was more conventional – doing a foundation course in fine art at Trowbridge College before graduating with a first-class Honours degree from UWE Bristol. “I was always creative and artistic and drawing even before I picked up graffiti. And that came very much from hanging out at skate parks. I was never any good at it [skateboarding] as I was top heavy”, Tommy says laughing, “but my friends were really good and when we discovered graffiti, it turns out I was quite good at it and it soon became my thing.” He admits they tried to drum out his graffiti tendencies at university, but luckily he persisted and the fine art course allowed him to develop a range of skills, including looking at zen calligraphy.
The “bread and butter work” comes from his commissions at AirHop and he does private work too (ranging from a vintage car restoration garage in Westbury to cartoon characters on kids’ bedroom walls). However another intriguing avenue has been working with artist Joe Rush at Glastonbury’s Carhenge. “I work with him as a painter and there’s crew of about 30. [Last] year was the second year it was built as Carhenge [a version of Stonehenge made up of 24 mutilated classic cars] before that it was Cinema Armageddon and the cars were out in a field with a massive cinema screen and people would sit in them and watch the film. Now they’ve been piled up like Stonehenge. They are all beautiful American cars [Cadillacs and Chevys].” Held together with concrete and metal poles, the whole extraordinary operation is reassembled every year.
Finding your ‘handstyle’
You can sense Tommy’s skill and passion at one of his workshops for adults and kids (my 12-year-old daughter went to one with a friend last year and loved it) and which he has held in St Werburghs, Bristol, for the past three years. I wonder how easy it is to master?
“Not everyone can pick up a can or a pen and do a handwritten word – it’s called handstyle – it’s a craft that takes people years to hone. Picking up a spray can and learning to use it is like learning to draw again with such subtleties as creating thin lines and details [you get varying nozzle sizes on the spray cans depending on your requirements].”
Tommy also runs longer courses at Whitelake Park – “in September, I organised a graffiti festival here for 40 artists.” This year, they’ll be back again going over the work they did last time.
As for influences, Tommy says “American and Canadian were the main ones, such as Cope2 and T Kid. Then there were films like Style Wars (about the birth of hip hop). Locally it would be Goldie, Inkie and 3D.” Outside of graffiti, Tommy mentions the work of Jackson Pollock and Franz Kline, artists who went against the grain.
As to the future, he’s aiming to be in the studio more frequently (he has another workshop at the Welsh Mill Hub in Frome) as he tries to balance doing commissions and just being an artist.
“I think a lot of people in a similar situation struggle to find that balance between supporting a family and staying true to their beliefs as an artist. My most recent work is corporate street art, but my roots lie in the foundations of hip hop and graffiti culture. I aim to explore my own history working in different worlds from corporate and festivals to fine art and graffiti and I’m also expressing this in a new line of work on canvas.”
There’s a sense of fun to Tommy the Vandalist’s graffiti, which steers clear of politics unlike some of his contemporaries (“some people will use it to voice an opinion, there’s a lot of Palestinian work being done in Bristol,” he adds), but that makes his art all the more accessible as an artist and a teacher and what’s more, he’s all about sharing his passion, skills and spraying the word.
Follow Tommy the Vandalist on Instagram @vandalist_murals and for updates on his upcoming workshops, which are available to book via Yuup, follow @theschoolofgraff on Instagram.
