Legendary artist Cornbread wants people to stop defacing Philly murals
Philadelphia is called the “Mural Capital of the World” — a reputation it owes in part to the legendary street artist Darryl McCray, who’s regarded as the “Godfather of graffiti.”
McCray, better known as Cornbread, began inscribing his name onto the walls of his juvenile center in the mid-1960s, becoming a living landmark to those who later celebrated his contributions to hip-hop and the world of street art.
The Brewerytown native built his reputation as the “king of the walls” as a teenager. He tagged stone-covered buildings, construction sites, a police car, the hind side of a Philadelphia Zoo elephant, and even a jet owned by the Jackson 5.
More often than not, his insignia would be buffed from the city’s walls, but his imprint inspired a wave of artists in Philly and New York City during the 1960s and ‘70s — and later the hip-hop revolution.
McCray said Philly’s artistic movement helped spark the genre, with former graffiti writers eventually transitioning to the art of rhyme. The two intersect like North Philly cross streets, with each discipline influencing the other over the decades.
“I don’t like when they say graffiti isn’t hip-hop,” McCray said. “There would be no hip-hop without graffiti. There are a lot of original pioneers of hip-hop culture, but a big percentage were already street artists who were doing other things. Graffiti is a world culture with a small community that still makes a big impact.”
At 70, McCray is no longer “bombing” his signature across the city, but the pride he takes in Philly’s graffiti culture remains intact. He’s now a mural ambassador on a mission to stop random vandals from defacing the murals that define his beloved hometown.
“It’s the vandals that ruin the art,” McCray said. “We have renegades who just don’t care. They’re even putting their names on the defaced murals,” he said when The Inquirer caught up with him on his way to the mural My Life, My Path, My Destiny by artist Cesar Viveros, which was sullied by a series of graffiti tags.
It’s a fight that is hardly new for McCray.
Back in 2013, he put together the Graffiti Summit, which was attended by a “lot of city officials, writers, and barbers.” Together, they conjured ideas to stop the destruction of murals, which included a local taskforce to regularly maintain and clean the public artworks. But in the years since the event, McCray fears the issue may have worsened.
“Every time a mural is destroyed, it becomes a hurt piece,” he said. “This is an issue that’s been overlooked for some years. For the most part, the general public isn’t aware of the ongoing sabotage. The only thing we can do is try [to fix it].”
McCray suspects there were a few vandals who attended the Graffiti Summit, but “they didn’t make themselves known,” he said. But someone who stepped in as an ally was Mural Arts executive director Jane Golden, who’s been friends with McCray since her first days at the arts organization, then known as the Philadelphia Anti-Graffiti Network.
“She’s a real good close friend of mine, and she’s the reason why Philadelphia looks the way it does,” McCray said of Golden. “I love [her]. We share legacies and have changed Philadelphia together.”
Golden said the summit was a success. Several spray and brush-made murals came out of the event, all of which went untouched.
Like the use of mosaic, fresco, acrylic, oil, and other artistic mediums, spray is another “tool in the creative toolbox.” It just requires permission, which she feels current graffiti writers are too often ignoring.
“Many writers today have different values and that is too bad,” Golden said. “By sharing techniques and learning from each other, there is great mutuality. Destroying art is a lose-lose proposition. Nobody wins.”
Most of the city’s murals had gone untouched since the Graffiti Summit, and even as far back as Golden’s start at Mural Arts 40 years ago. But she said there’s been an uptick in defacements since the COVID-19 pandemic.
Golden said past graffiti writers had an unspoken agreement to avoid churches, private homes, and murals, but it seems today’s artists don’t operate by the same accord.
Last year, Golden said Mural Arts spent $60,000 to remove graffiti, and the recent spike in vandalism is “eating away the soul of the city.”
“Murals in the city of Philadelphia are civic assets and it is an insult to the artists, to the community, to Mural Arts, to everyone who was part of the experience of bringing the work of art to life,” she said.
To stop the desecration, McCray said he has his eyes on a second summit, which would also honor the legacies of pioneering artists like Dr. Cool, Sank, Mutt, Kool Kev, Cupcake, and other influencers.
This summit, he hopes, will inspire further advocacy, community-wide collaboration, and deter vandals from spraying their tags over these public works. “There needs to be artists talking about the destruction of the murals, and how much some people want to see the beauty and jewels of our city destroyed,” McCray said.
With McCray at the helm, Golden is hopeful a second Graffiti Summit will encourage current and future graffiti writers to embrace the same values once held by past artists. And by offering creative development and collaboration through Mural Arts programs, a lasting impact can be made in the Philly arts community.
“When we avoid judgment and open up doors for opportunity, that provides our society with so much richness,” Golden said. “I’m not saying every graffiti writer has a desire to be an artist. But for those that do, and have the energy to build on their creativity, I think we can give it a try.
