Around campus, curious stickers, signs, and QR codes leading to worlds unknown are found dotted amongst our buildings, bathrooms, and walls. All one has to do is take a closer look at these distinct markings and one falls down a rabbit hole. Such are these novelties that they are found in nearly every public space; where the harsh lines of spray paint would immediately be covered, the sticker lives on.
A quick and easy form of graffiti, sticker art emerged in the 1980s, flaunting bright, bold designs. Artists used the now iconic ‘Hello my name is’ tags as well as the United States Postal Service’s Label 228 to create and rapidly spread this emerging style. Now, sticker art can be hand-drawn or printed out, and many artists use it as a simple, convenient and discreet way to tag a location or rapidly spread a message of their choosing. With the benefits of allowing artists to pre-plan their art as well as add more detail and precision to their work, sticker art now grows like vines in most public spaces. Dublin is no exception, and Trinity itself has become a canvas of self-expression for the sneaky sticker slapper. Street lights around and outside campus seem to draw the most attention, their poles covered and over-crossed with stickers. However, some of the most identifiably scholar produced work is located in student hubs such as the Student’s Union building, staircases, elevators, bathroom stalls, and the inconspicuous nooks and crannies of the different buildings.
At Trinity, though, art doesn’t seem to be the main focus of sticker graffiti. Advertising stickers are much more prevalent on campus–for societies and events happening in Dublin — begging the question of whether these markings are truly representative of the creative student mind or if they have evolved to just serve as free advertisement. Indeed, unlike graffiti, stickers now make it possible to tag – and advertise in – prominent public locations. Spray-painting Trinity’s Nassau Street entrance might get any aspiring artist into some trouble, but covering its surrounding lampposts, bins and walls in eye-catching stickers is considerably less risky. It’s no wonder, then, that stickers have become a salient form of advertising, commercial and otherwise, in spaces previously immune to it. Much of Trinity’s sticker art asks you to scan a QR code and register for a society, with many of these stickers handed out during Freshers Fair at the start of the academic year. It is perhaps impossible to tell if these are indeed deliberate ads, possibly just being pasted on the stairs by a bored Senior Fresh student. Sticker graffiti in Trinity is decidedly not just about bombing your tag or even posting unique art across campus, yet are these promotional works really a graffiti culture to aspire to?
This is where it is important to note the social and political activism communicated by stickers pasted throughout the College, reaching audiences daily where they would otherwise be blissfully unaware. These stickers tackle issues such as racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and ableism, with many calling for a Free Palestine lining the campus’ hallways; there’s even a sticker posted on the door of the Cistin AML of the SU Building letting others know that the house is not wheelchair accessible. This form of graffiti aligns much more with the original intent of graffiti as a modern art form: to advertise one’s beliefs where they wouldn’t be represented otherwise. Rather than being a sanctioned display, this is students showing up and coming together rather than just accepting a normalised reality. This kind of work has the power to interrupt a person’s day, making them think about why this message was used to “deface” a space, before moving on.
Graffiti at Trinity seems to have a job to do – it is not simply for complacent, pleasurable viewing, and whether that be advertising a society or advocating on behalf of others, our sticker art steers away from solely decorative purposes.
Both utilizations of sticker graffiti are trying to convince you, to get you to believe in their objective. This could be interpreted as propagandic, yet most of the art seems to represent commonly held sentiments around the college or advertise the largest and most popular societies, becoming, instead, a representative of the student body.
This representation is hard to take down. Despite being clear vandalism, most sticker graffiti isn’t removed because of the amount of work required to do so. They are eggshell stickers, a mixture of paper and plastic, which splinter to pieces when pulled at and can be replaced immediately at very little cost to the artist.
Just as Trinity students continue to advocate for a more just world and promote a vibrant student life, sticker graffiti will continue to be a sure sign of these endeavours.
