Art of War

Denver Police Department anti-graffiti detective Ray Ruybal remembers only twice in ten years that he's asked graffiti artists to get the permit. "The majority of the time, if they have the property owners permission, we don't really push that." In fact, permits are used so infrequently that he wasn't even sure which city department issues them. Guerilla Garden members, however, cite incidences in the past two years in which police have threatened to ticket them for painting on legal walls or had city crews paint over completed murals that were done without permits.

"We're criminalized right off the bat," Jay says. "Vandalism and graffiti art are two separate things. We want the city to embrace graffiti art, just as they do any other art. But when we try and go get a permit, nobody from the city knows how to do it for us because nobody's ever done it."

On April 16, Travis Burns was arrested along with two friends for spray-painting in Northside Park at the redeveloped site of the old Metropolitan Wastewater Facility. It wasn't the first time the 29-year-old Denver native was ticketed for graffiti, but it was the first time he was slapped with a felony. While technically they don't constitute a legal wall, the freestanding barriers have been a well-known painting location since the late-'80s. There is even an official plaque that discusses how "the abandoned plant was a blank canvas for graffiti artists," next to photographs of the colorful pieces.

"I've been to fifteen different countries around the world and painted in almost every single one of them, and no one's ever sweated me," says Burns, who until recently was a photojournalist for the Navy. "And in my own home town, I get thrown in jail and charged with a felony -- for painting?"

As with 80 percent of the graffiti arrests, the charge is likely to be reduced to a misdemeanor with fines and community service, says Detective Ruybal.

Burns would prefer to have an authorized space to practice his art, much like Boulder has done with its official graffiti wall, rather than constantly having to walk the line on what might be considered legal. "You know how there's a skatepark in downtown Denver?" he asks. "Well, the city needs to provide the same thing for artists."

A festival could help clear the air on graffiti art. But before Marc Ecko starts launching any more legal bombs from his Manhattan office, many local graffiti writers think he should first check out the real issues on the ground.