What’s That Stench? A spotlight on the mysterious Art of graffiti
interview conducted by Jordan Boudreau
If you’ve been anywhere east of I-35, and have a pair of eyeballs, then chances are you’ve seen the word “Stench” written somewhere. In fact, if you pay close enough attention, you’ll find it scrawled on almost every visible surface as far as the eye can see. East Austin seems to be the primary target, but actually anywhere in the city you’ll be able to spot the elusive graffiti artist (or artists) known as “Stench” leaving his or her mark on the urban landscape with unparalleled frequency.
If you haven’t noticed it before, you will now. It’s like your nose – always in your field of view but somehow invisible if you aren’t looking for it. It took me recognizing the same name countless times for me to realize that there was something interesting going on here. Stench’s all-pervasiveness piqued my curiosity and inspired me to dig further – Who is this character and how did they get their name everywhere? Also what does “Stench” mean? Is it a poetic analogy for being everywhere yet somehow invisible? Is this person trying to lead a boycott against big deodorant? And while the answers to these questions remain a mystery, let’s take this opportunity to talk about the enigmatic world of Stench and the culture behind this very specific artform - a culture fueled by self-expression, nonconformity, and even rivalry.
Graffiti, derived from the Italian word graffiato meaning “scratched,” boasts a rich history dating back to ancient cave drawings. However, modern graffiti as we recognize it emerged in New York City during the 1960s, heavily influenced by hip-hop culture, and its classification as either art or vandalism remains a subject of contention. Nonetheless, the tradition of graffiti has evolved to become an integral feature of almost every major city in America.
I eventually began to notice that Stench’s work is often accompanied by the acronym “WKT”, which I could only surmise to be a competitor’s tag. Thorough academic research revealed (cut to me sifting through stacks of books, frantically turning pages, adjusting my spectacles and getting yelled at by librarians to go home) that Stench is part of a larger crew known as “WKT”. Crews like this are very common in graffiti, and including the crew name (often a short acronym like this) helps the group promote collective identity through their shared tags. I managed to spot multiple WKT tags in my travels, however the scope and membership of WKT is TBD, adding another layer of intrigue to Stench’s narrative.
The existence of crews like this can also lend itself to conflict. In the world of graffiti, rivalries often simmer beneath the surface, occasionally erupting in acts of defacement and retaliation. Stench, with their widespread recognition, is not immune to such tensions, and instances of their tags being crossed out or replaced with rival artists’ monikers underscore the competitive dynamics of graffiti culture.
Tracking down this word “Stench” and opening my eyes to the nuances of graffiti as a deliberate and expressive practice has given the city streets a life they didn’t have before. Rather than a sea of meaningless visual noise to be tuned out, each and every surface of the city has become a rich tapestry, carrying the stories of mysterious local figures. I’ve already begun to recognize more names and more patterns, and with continued attention my grasp of Austin graffiti lore will continue to grow, as will yours.
As debates over its legitimacy persist, the question still remains: should graffiti writing be considered art? Does every vehicle of expression deserve the categorization of “art”? How important is the separation of what academia and museums refer to as “fine art” and the everyday creations that are visible for the public to consume? In full transparency,, I see graffiti as a bold rejection of societal order paired with an innate human drive for self-promotion, which in my opinion is beautiful in and of itself.
The great Joshuaslyfe on Tik Tok actually made a shockingly profound statement on this very subject. Joshuaslyfe is a charming and relatable content creator known for delivering philosophical and emotionally powerful dialogues that are somewhere between poetry and prose. In one of his videos, he sits squarely in frame with just his microphone and says:
“I used to think the laziest kind of graffiti were the ones that just said ‘___ was here’. You know, ‘Jonathan was here’, ‘Angie was here’…If you’re gonna bother graffitiing anything you might as well at least make it interesting – make it count, you know? But then I thought, maybe this is what all graffiti is trying to say. ‘I was here. I did something. I influenced the world in some way. I impacted something.’
And then I thought, maybe this is what all art is trying to say. ‘Look at me. I was here! I did something! I am a human being with thoughts and feelings just like you. I exist!’ It seems as if the fundamental desires of all human nature can be condensed down into just these 3 words: ‘I was here…’”
In unraveling the mysteries of Stench and the broader graffiti culture, one thing becomes abundantly clear: beneath the layers of paint lies a vibrant saga of human expression, a testament to the irrepressible instinct of creativity. So, the next time you encounter the name “Stench” on a weathered building or rusty street sign, take a moment to ponder the individual behind its bold strokes – for within lies a glimpse into the human spirit.
