Blog & insights

Art, by its very nature, resists permanence. From the delicate spray splatters that cracks with age to the mural slowly fading away in time due to the elements, time has always been both artist and eraser, art and vandalism.

Nowhere is this more visible than in the world of street art or Graffitti—  “Street art” is a novel market category, devised with Banksy and his imitators in mind and a form defined as much by its fleeting existence as by its fearless expression but both terms are blurry, but whereas “graffiti art” classically referred to spray painted tags or murals featuring a given artist’s name, “street art” suggested a more image-based genre that expanded to stencils, stickers, wheat-pastes, and various other forms of visual trickery in the urban environment, sometimes interacting directly with its surroundings.

Cities from around the world are becoming living galleries, their walls breathing stories that evolve, disappear, and sometimes re-emerge. Graffiti has been around since the Palaeolithic era, Yet while traditional art seeks to endure — encased behind glass or varnish — street art accepts its fate as part of its identity. Each piece, no matter how bold or beloved, carries a quiet understanding: it will one day be disappear.

This acceptance of transience mirrors the rhythm of urban life itself. Cities are in constant flux; buildings are repainted, developments rise with hoarding becoming a place for artists to mark their territory , and the weather leaves its mark. What’s here today is washed away tomorrow, replaced by new visions and voices. In that cycle lies a peculiar kind of beauty — one rooted in transformation rather than preservation.

In Norwich, the impermanence of art feels particularly poignant. This is a city that balances medieval stonework and centuries-old churches with a fiercely contemporary creative spirit.

It’s a place where history stands proud — yet the walls hum with modern colour and commentary.

Walk down St Benedict’s Street, Anglia Square  or wander through the Lanes and you’ll see it: a patchwork of stencils, murals, and tags forming a living dialogue. From large-scale commissions to anonymous scrawls, Norwich’s street art scene is rewriting itself. Some pieces vanish almost as soon as they appear, while others linger — fading gently under Norfolk’s shifting skies.

The underpass near St Crispin’s Road, has long been a showcase for the city’s urban creativity. Yet each return visit reveals change: a mural repainted, a new motif layered over an older design. Elsewhere, in Magdalen Street or around Anglia Square, walls serve as open sketchbooks, hosting everything from political commentary to whimsical illustrations.

The River Wensum’s bridges bear the traces of this dialogue — spray paint, paste-ups and stickers forming a colourful shorthand for the city’s cultural pulse.

Norwich’s artists, both established and emerging, understand that the act of painting in public is as much about impermanence as expression.

What makes Norwich’s street art special isn’t just the work itself, but how it reflects the city’s evolving identity. As one of the UK’s UNESCO Cities of Literature, along side an established and thriving Art School, Norwich is a place that has always prized storytelling — and its walls tell stories too. They speak of community, resilience, protest, and play.

Grass root artists use paint, chalk, and collage to explore everything from environmental change to local pride.

And yet, just as in literature, not every chapter remains on the page. Rain washes away colours, councils repaint, and new artists overlay the old. Rather than diminishing the value of these works, that transience deepens their meaning. Each disappearance makes way for something new — a reminder that creativity thrives not in permanence, but in renewal.

To watch a mural fade in Norwich is to witness the quiet poetry of infleetingnes. It’s  a visual echo of how the city itself grows, adapts, and renews. The art may vanish, but its spirit remains — embedded in the memory of passers-by, the photographs shared, the spark of inspiration carried forward.

In that sense, Norwich’s street art is less about possession and more about participation. It invites us to pause, to notice, and to appreciate beauty not because it lasts, but because it doesn’t.

After all, every fading wall reminds us of a simple truth: sometimes the most powerful art is the kind that dares to disappear.

Street art is a powerful form of self-expression that brings color, creativity, and social commentary to public spaces, but its place in society is often debated. Many argue that it should be preserved when it carries cultural, artistic, or historical value—turning ordinary walls into community landmarks that reflect local identity and spark conversation. However, not all graffiti qualifies as art. Street art becomes vandalism when it is created without permission, damages property, or disrespects private or public spaces. The line between art and vandalism lies in intention, context, and consent. Preserving meaningful street art can celebrate creativity and urban culture, while allowing unapproved or harmful graffiti to fade ensures respect for shared spaces and property rights.

Is the commercialisation of street art (like Banksy)a betrayal of its roots? Should schools and galleries do more to teach about or exhibit street art and what is the impact of graffiti in the city…