Anarchy Within Boundaries: Exploring Street Art & Cultural Expression

Published on 01 March 2025

I recently visited the UK and spent a heady weekend dosing up on culture in London.

With its potent mix of so-called high and low culture, an undisputed cultural hotspot is the stretch of the Thames Southbank between the Westminster and Blackfriars bridges.

At the eastern end you’ll find Leake Street Arches, a mecca for street art, while at the western end lies the imposing Tate Modern. Housed in the giant Bankside Power Station which closed in 1981, the building opened to the public in 2000 as one of the largest museums of modern and contemporary art in the world. 

The contrasting value sets attributed to the art presented in these two locations is what fascinates me. I shuffled past a Picasso in the Tate, barely giving it more than a 2 second glance – I’d seen it in books before. Meanwhile, in the Leake Street Arches, where hundreds of murals, stencils and graffiti tags adorn the walls and ceiling, I found myself seduced into lengthier contemplations.

I studied the Philosophy of Art at university and can expound myriad criteria by which that Picasso has amassed both cultural meaning and market value within the art world and wider public sphere. There are, however, plenty of criteria by which street art is just as significant and valuable.

Street art connects with people in a way that few other art forms do. It exists in public spaces, grabbing attention and inviting interaction with viewers. Artists treat the outdoors as their canvas, creating pieces that mirror everyday life and respond to current events. Street art also plays a role in revitalizing urban spaces, presenting learning opportunities through workshops and boosting the visitor economy through tourism. 

Halfway between the Tate Modern and Leake Street lies the Southbank Centre’s Royal Festival Hall, completed in 1951. Beneath its brutalist concrete architecture was constructed an extensive under croft that became an unintended gift to skateboarders and BMX riders. This spot is widely recognised as the birthplace of British skateboarding and has provided a rain-protected playground for boarders, riders and graffiti artists for the past 40 years. It is plastered in street art expressing the cultural and social concerns of its users. 

It’s a space in which forms of artistic and physical expression are intimately entwined and created in real time. You don’t have to buy a ticket to view it. It’s ephemeral and visceral and exists in stark counterpoint to the more formalised performances and exhibitions housed in the buildings standing directly above. Rarely is the notion of an arts ‘underground’ so neatly encapsulated than in this particular riverside setting.

The space is not without its critics and has courted controversy, largely because some of those who frequent these spaces are dealing with personal issues, sometimes using drugs and alcohol to self-medicate. This is representative of society as a whole, in which people existing in lower socio-economic circumstances can struggle to access the services they need to recover. They may not be paid for their art, but they are nonetheless creative beings, as are all us humans.

So finally, back to Leake Street Arches, where I witnessed a large group of young people engaging in a mural painting workshop. There, I spoke with a painter called Mark who turned out to be an artist in residence at Leake Street. He showed me a stylised painting of a red squirrel he had completed to raise awareness of endangered species – search online for The Ark of Extinction.

Mark then pointed out what he considered to be the most interesting wall in the arches. It was painted black and situated just beyond the final arch. “That’s the boundary”, he said. “Every piece of art in this tunnel is temporary and can be painted over at any time. None of it is ‘owned’ or protected. It’s anarchy contained by boundaries – that black wall in fact”.

I’m fond of this idea of ‘anarchy contained by boundaries’ as it invites all stakeholders in public art – creatives, the wider community, property owners and local government – to consider the journey from conception to presentation of art.

In April 2024, Bellingen Shire Council commissioned a mural to cover over some scrappy graffiti on the Memorial Hall carpark walls and in January 2025, Camp Creative approached Council to add works to the western walls as part of its 2025 program, albeit within the boundaries of facilitated workshops.

The ‘rules’ around the permanence of such artworks are up for discussion, though I hope we can find an arrangement that allows the anarchic spirit of artistic self-expression to flow within acceptable boundaries, just as it does in performances contained within the Memorial Hall’s walls.