Just north of downtown Eugene, across the train tracks from the Amtrak Station and the Lane County Jail, on a small patch of grassy wasteland, four large, vertical wooden boards have been inserted into the ground. The boards were originally whitewashed, but are now covered in bright flashes of different colors. They are what graffiti artists of the area refer to as “Eugene’s legal wall”, and they have been decorated with cans upon cans of spray paint applied with varying degrees of skill. Anything painted here disappears within a few days under a fresh layer; art covers up art as new artists express themselves.
This is where local graffiti artist Jacob Hutchins wants to meet.
He’s wearing a purple corduroy jacket over a t-shirt, jeans that are slashed at the knee and blue suede sneakers. His hair is light brown, shoulder length and very straight. He’s friendly, but quiet; he’s ready to show us what he does.
Jake, as most people call him, has always been interested in artistic activities. He says he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t drawing, and he usually carries a sketchbook around with him. The one he shows me today is filled with pages of doodles and intricate drawings.
On one of the pages is an American Splendor style cartoon about the job he currently holds at a convenience store near his house. In the cartoon, a homeless man is hassling an uninterested Jake about the store’s bottle return policy. When I ask him about it, Jake smiles and says the cartoon isn’t meant to be dark, but rather to gently poke fun at his current occupation. “It’s actually the best job I’ve ever had,” he says. “It’s the kind of job you love to hate.”
Jake’s graffiti name – or tag – is Blue. Most of the other pages of his sketchbook contain different designs and letterings of the word done in graffiti style. “I’ve tagged as that forever,” he says. “I like the color blue, but it’s more that the letters flow nicely into one another.”
Jake tells me a little bit about graffiti’s history and shows me some of the flaws in some of the pieces already up on the wall. “See here,” he says, pointing to a tag with gray lettering on a brown background. “Those colors don’t really work well together. If the painter had used a thin outline in a bright color, it would have had a lot more pop.”
He also explains that what we are going to watch him do today isn’t considered graffiti by all. Purists would say that by definition graffiti is illegal art and therefore can’t be done somewhere like this where it is encouraged. But Jake, who knows a graffiti artist who was sent to jail for multiple offenses, is quite happy to settle for “graffiti-style art” here if it keeps him out of trouble. “On YouTube, you can find a guy tagging Air Force One,” he says with admiration. “It’s impressive, but I like my freedom, so you’re not going to find me doing it.”
Once he starts painting, Jake’s entire demeanor changes. His face becomes a mask of concentration and focus. His right hand holds the can of spray paint and moves quickly over his canvas, but his left hand down by his side is also tensed. He works rapidly, pausing occasionally to step back and consider his next move. Although he usually starts with an idea of what he wants from the final product, he also likes to improvise. He retouches some of the letters and retraces some of the outlines.
His final product is a large “Blue” tag that covers almost the entire board. The letters are dark green and maroon with a peppermint light blue frosting across their top half. Bright gold and orange outlines accentuate the piece.
As Jake finishes up, he steps back, debating any more possible additions. Finally, he seems satisfied with his handiwork and gives the thumbs-up as he walks away. “A lot of people [who do graffiti] are very political; that’s really the root of graffiti, protest and making a stand and all that jazz,” he says. “But I just like having a big canvas to work on. I don’t even care if anybody sees what I do or not, I just like to have a big canvas to work on.”
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