Philadelphia’s name writing in public spaces is an underrated gem in street penmanship and an underrepresented phenomenon in the cartography of American graffiti. The city boasts a highly autarkic and unique street tagging scene that represents an impressive, localised instance of a calligraphic school within the inner limits of a metropolitan area. Philly handstyles exemplify the emergence of metropolitan collective identities rooted in letterforms. Some cities are able to develop their own scriptural “texture”, going beyond individual experiments with the image of the name. This handcrafted visual identity has remained stable over the years, despite some evolutions since its emergence in the mid-to-late 1960s.
François Chastanet, a resident of the Villa Albertine — a French art and design residency program in the USA — undertook an immersive study trip to Philadelphia during April and May 2023. He rode his bike through the streets of Philadelphia with his camera in hand, looking for local wall-writers’ signatures, aiming to prove that the name writing scene in Philly has continued to thrive with unique styles. The present webpage is an augmented version of the “Graffiti: The Philly Hands Case or The Survival of The Whip” report published in 2024 in the second issue of States, the Villa Albertine’s magazine. This article was also translated in French and Russian in early 2025 by Le Bulletin Typographique, a paper journal by Schrift Publishers supported by the Institut Français in St. Petersburg.
Beyond photographing inscriptions in the Philadelphian urban landscape, hand sessions on paper with local “writers” were video recorded from the scribe’s viewpoint for an optimal gestural rendering. A rare glimpse into the preparatory work done on paper before performing in the street bringing further understanding about this local raw aesthetics of skeletal letterforms in public space.
(intro video)
Buff Landscape
Philadelphia
2023
This tracking shot loop is an attempt to record the ongoing state of the urban landscape in Philadelphia, mixing different neighborhoods, mainly Lower & Upper North Philadelphia and Uptown. Under the local erasing program entitled CLIP or Community Life Improvement Program, walls and even fence tarps are erased or “buffed” daily. The local municipal buff (as named by the writers) is working hard to remove vandalism from Broad Street and other main routes. This situation offers a kind of “erasing landscape” made of huge overlapping surfaces of paint applied with a compressor from small trucks. Complainers can even choose the color while contacting the dedicated phone line: grey, beige, red and black.
Name writing in public spaces has been the dominant practice of graffiti since the end of the 20th century. This popular practice likely represents the only calligraphic school with any weight in Western culture, since we find ourselves living in a keyboard civilization. The New York graffiti movement, that became the epicentre of graffiti’s visual globalisation when it spread in the late 1980s and early 1990s, is of course very important but is actually hiding a more complex situation. There is a historical dispute between Philadelphia and New York concerning which megalopolis first started this “all-city” graffiti of names game in the mid-to-late 1960s. In my opinion, it is more important to document how these distinctive handstyles were stabilized over time than to focus on strict chronological issues.
The New York phenomenon became massive in the 1970s and 1980s and beneficiated of a high media coverage, thus creating the global archetypes that would predominantly define the urban signature until this day. On the other hand, Philadelphia’s highly autarkic scene is an impressive, localized instance of a name writing “school” within the inner limits of the city, and deserves much greater recognition. Philly has produced its own scriptural “texture” beyond the individual experiments on the image of the name, i.e. a handcrafted collective visual identity that has remained stable over the years despite some evolutions.
The early-emergence process seems similar in Philadelphia and New York: gang graffiti, with some loose aesthetical codes based on territorial neighbourhood sign marking habits, transformed gradually into “graffiti for graffiti” practices. Some youngsters consciously tried to avoid gangs by individual initiative or creating groups / clubs only based on writing and going “all-city” and running all neighbourhoods of a given urban area, going beyond the traditional territorial gang neighbourhood signage. The situation surrounding Philadelphia’s street gangs used to be pretty bad. In the 1960s, youth gangs plagued the city, and there was a rapid loss of industrial jobs. Graffiti became a way to build something more positive and escape from gangs and daily delinquency.
Even if it is difficult to determine clearly where a more systematic name writing in public space first appeared between Philadelphia and New York in the 1960s, it seems obvious that “style writing”, i.e. the stylisation of the image of the name, was far more advanced in Philadelphia than New York at the articulation of late 1960s early 1970s and that Philadelphia had some key aesthetic influence on New York early steps. Early practitioners were CornBread from Brewerytown in North Philly and Kool Klepto Kidd, Cool Earl, and Chewy from West Philly. Then, the scene grew exponentially, creating quite a snowball effect.
Philadelphia is often called “Whip City” by local wall-writers. The whip (a recurring term in the local graffiti jargon), in the same sense as the term used in cooking, dancing or boxing, is the energy you instill in letter strokes. It’s observable in the small joints and ligatures that appear between signs, showing traces of a cursive mentality and a vivid running hand. The whip is about achieving speed and consistency: it can be first described by the work of the wrist, the almost uninterrupted repetitive “up-and-down” pattern gesture bringing spacing regularity and the condensed aspect. The whip is the tension, the visible energy in line tracing, showing all strokes’ connections, favouring a one-line construction of letters’ skeleton. The whip is sometimes also quoted as “ism” or “swag” in the writers’ slang; the “ism” expression is more used to describe the originality of a given calligraphic approach, an experienced flowing hand, a singularity in the signature’s texture bringing formal innovations. Acquiring a strong whip, a drawing energy unique to each individual, and a proper aesthetic in this signature practice is a continuous quest.
It is important to note that handstyles are not racially or culturally differentiated. Black writers, as well as writers of Hispanic (Puerto Rican, Dominican, Colombian, etc.) or Irish descent, and more recently, writers from Asian communities, all work in the same handstyles, pursuing a shared Philadelphia letterfoms myth. In 2021, The Philadelphia Inquirer published a precise map documenting block by block racial and class divides. Geographically speaking, Philadelphia is strongly racially segregated: to make it short, West Broad Street is dominated by Black communities, East Broad Street is more Hispanic, and wealthy Whites tend to concentrate in the city center and South Philly. The lettering aesthetic competition therefore transcends racial but also gender issues. Nevertheless, it should be pointed out that female writers are pretty rare. This situation makes for example Karma’s work in the 2010s all the more remarkable.
The notion of whip applies to all handstyles, from simple to complex, that have been carefully developed in Philly since the end of the 1960s. The old Philly hands were initially called “Gangster Prints” and were later developed into numerous variants. I investigated the inner Philadelphia evolution of letter shapes, principally what is called in the local graff milieu the condensed “Tall Hands” and the extraordinary “Wickeds”.
It’s tempting to draw a connection between local warehouses’ gigantic walls and “Tall Hands” vertical stress filling the space, with the various abandoned factories lining the streets in Philadelphia providing an unprecedented inscription surface that may have opened the way for monumental top-to-bottom tags unknown in other cities.
“Wickeds” are a “Philly thing… you can’t understand” (see Kad’s top left punchline in his training notebook), very elaborate wild-style signatures that originated in the mid-late 1970s, a calligraphic exaggeration demanding great skills only observable there. These different practices are an underrepresented phenomenon in American graffiti history, underrated gems in street penmanship.
KAD’s training notebook
double-page spread I
2023
{various hands} IT’S A PHILLY THING... YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND!! KAD, KADISM, KAE/AE/DEE (phonetical spelling), acronyms NP (NORTH PHILADELPHIA) or NO.1 after the names + arrows, crowns and smileys variants, etc.
The “Whip” is like a giant that used to prowl through the streets of Philadelphia. Some say it disappeared long ago, but it still seems to make brief appearances nowadays... As a photographer, I was chasing the whip during the spring of 2023 in Philly, traversing streets and neighborhoods by bicycle several hours a day for two months. On some days, I found little, but on others, my efforts were rewarded with discoveries of rare, perfectly mastered signatures in ideal locations (no cars obstructing the view and the necessary depth to capture both the inscription and urban surroundings).
I found that some history-conscious graffiti writers — young or not so young — are still fighting for the survival of the whip even amidst (somewhat valid) complaints from old-timers about mediocre consistency in some current hands. This ties into the prevailing narrative that the era from the early 1970s to the late 1990s represents the supposed golden age of street name writing in Philly and that since the 2000s, everything has been just mere repetition and stylistic decadence. But each generation has its own icons from which to build its own golden age.
Philadelphia’s inner population had been decreasing since the post-WWII period; what was once the “workshop of the world” faced intense deindustrialization. However, since the mid to late 2000s, the city has been regaining inhabitants with an influx of Millennials, young adults, and immigrants. Even as poverty persists, with a quarter of residents still living below the poverty line, an impressive real estate gentrification process is hitting neighborhoods like Brewery Town, Fairmount, Templeton, Olde Kensington, Fishtown, and many others that were important in the development of the Philly graff scene.
With the city under widespread development, writers make heavy use of the dark tarps enveloping the fences of construction sites and backyards, an entrance point of one of my main photo series. The Philadelphia city council has always taken measures to suppress graffiti of names (and encourage the production of figurative murals), but this repression seems to be accelerating. Under the erasing program (part of the larger CLIP or Community Life Improvement Program), nowadays walls and even tarps are erased or “buffed” daily.
The “Buff” is a rival giant roving in Philly streets, working hard to remove vandalism from Broad Street and other main routes. Graffiti is vandalism; it’s a never-ending cat-and-mouse game with cycles of different durations and reset moments. Early generations of Philly writers likely maybe faced less adversity. In the late 1990s, amidst anticipation for a Republican convention that was taking place in Philadelphia, the whole city was deeply cleaned, and many historical inscriptions were lost, leaving new amateurs without a calligraphic referent.
In the early 2000s, a second wave of cleaning hit all the underground spaces and tunnels of the local subways and trolley lines, signifying an even deeper loss in the local historical hands. The subway tunnels visible from the passing wagons of the north to south Broad Street Line were indeed considered as the Philly hands history book. At that time, digital photography was still in its nascency, and low-light shots were particularly poor, so no proper archives were available apart from some rare 24×36 argentic shots from practitioners / collectors.
Since the 2010s, the erasing has been continuous, changing the way writers behave, perhaps favoring rapid renderings and taking less care in the execution of signs. Abandoned trucks are a target of choice in all neighborhoods because they provide a writing surface that is much more durable over time than regular walls (even of abandoned buildings), they are usually left untouched by erasing services.
In Philadelphia, one can also observe the desire to leave traces in places where the signatures will last even if (and thanks to the fact that) public visibility is zero (like in parallel networks of abandoned subway tunnels or galleries, technical shafts or rooms, underground ghost stations, etc.), in search for places difficult to access where only a handful of passionate individuals will go, thus organizing hidden community visual longevity for initiated circles (and sometimes shared in rare fanzines and some Instagram accounts). This practice, marked by the conscious will to resist the passage of time, is developed by a small elite of writers.
To convey the long preparation needed before publicly performing in public space and reveal the secret art of “Tall Hands” and “Wickeds”, I have been video recording the Philly writers’ never-ending apprenticeship on cheap college ruled notebooks: the dance of the hand, the up-and-down regular gestures of the wrist, the loops and cut-backs, etc. There is nothing worse than showing up too early in the streets with a weak hand. “Kill a notebook a day!” is a classic injunction from local writing mentors, a new version of the old “nulla dies sine linea” Latin motto: achieving a respectable hand takes time and dedication through a lot of practice, both on paper and the wall.
“So many sources of enchantment, or at least of interest and the unforeseen for the trained eye. On all sides, the amateur receptive to calligraphy and able to appreciate its music finds delight, whilst others pass unhearing.” This quotation from Jean-François Billeter in his brilliant book The Chinese Art of Writing (Skira / Rizzoli, 1990) could easily be applied to Philadelphia’s streets. Please open your eyes and make for yourself the following visual exercise: compare an old Chinese cursive on a paper roll with Christian Dotremont’s “Logogrammes” and some “Wickeds”… At the same time, think about Dotremont’s definition of his own practice: “What I do in short is to exaggerate the natural freedom of writing.” I hope this will bring a greater understanding of local raw aesthetics and skeletal letterforms in public spaces and do justice to Philadelphia’s legacy of letters.
The notion of “ductus” is essential for understanding calligraphic practices and how models are transmitted. The ductus is defined by the number, order and direction of strokes to trace a letter or a sign; it is often represented with starting points, numbered plain arrows for tracing gestures and sometimes dotted arrows for pen lifts transitions. A complete ductus indicates both visible strokes and invisible pen lifts connections between two strokes. For example, it is the task of a paleographer or calligrapher to observe a historical calligraphic production and search for characteristics that identify “hands”.
To illustrate the idea of “exaggerating the natural freedom of writing”, which is used in the essay’s conclusion, here’s an attempt to visually reveal the inner logic in Philly “Tall Hands”: the tracing of each sign follows a cursive approach, as if everyday writing in capitals would be exagerated by speed with a vertical emphasis. In this practice, the usual hidden pen lifts are made visible in the final letterforms, leading to new letter design solutions.
Philly “hands” practice is the confirmation that the letter as continuous line approach is central in our era, that contemporary formal calligraphy doesn’t (necessarily) need “contrast”. Calligraphy, the dying art of formal writing, can exist outside the boundaries of thick-and-thin effects related to tools of the past. In Philadelphia, formal writing in loopy condensed monoline capitals became a consistent world in itself where the skeleton of the Latin letter was pushed to its cursive limits. The “Tall Prints” or “Tall Hands” are a condensed, uppercase upright-cursive handstyle with a generally vertical dynamic, the right balance between legibility and expressivity in handcrafted signage. Usually, ligatures are found between letters whenever possible (with occasional lowercase letters integrated and aligned with the caps).
“Tall Hand” ductus (number, order and direction of strokes to trace a sign + dotted arrows for pen lifts transitions) of the capital letters A and E and their variations.
In white, observed everyday monolinear behavior variants of tracing simplified Roman capitals with a ballpoint or round felt tip. In black, the Philadelphia “Tall Hand” ductus variants: some usual hidden pen lifts are made visible in the final letterform, towards an unbroken line and cursive expressivity.
A always starts with a vertical downstroke. It can be frankly rounded on top or more triangular with a lopped vertex. The downward diagonal to the right goes back to the left as a large loop by the bottom or goes up and backward to the left to trace the horizontal bar.
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E has two main variants, one based on three horizontal bars and one based on a reversed number 3. One can observe in the middle part of the second line the typical to the right then back to the left gesture on top the capital E the Philly way before tracing the vertical stem (stroke no. 1).
Letters in a Tall Hand inscription almost systematically start with a downstroke, following an upper horizontal alignment permitting regularity and constant rhythm. A classic example with BOZa↙, a Philly Tall Hand heavy hitter.
To visualise the differences (and connections) between “Tall Hands” and “Wickeds”, here are two active Philly writers demonstrating their understanding of these two styles. Aviz is a writer from South West Philadelphia, Da is a writer from North Philadelphia. The arrows, often observable in the inscriptions, indicate the energy of someone in movement, active in the game with style. It is a kind of status sign, its use is almost systematic, as a “passage obligé” to express affiliation to Philly lettering identity.
In addition to frontal photo shots that allow for full observation of the lettering qualities on walls, camera-embedded subjective point-of-view footage of the same inscriptions is proposed to appreciate the speed of tracing, the necessary flowing dexterity and spacing mastery. The ductus, in full video motion.
Wall Session AVIZ
Tall Hands Rally
Downtown Philadelphia
2023
Camera-embedded subjective point-of-view action footage of inscriptions in public spaces: quick tall hands “rally” or repetition with slight variations (check the different cursive solutions for the letter A) performed by AVIZ.
Wall Session AVIZ
Wicked Hand
Downtown Philadelphia
2023
Camera-embedded subjective point-of-view action footage of inscriptions in public spaces: a “wicked” performed by AVIZ with a classic black stroke with a stock nozzle. Observe how vertical stems are broken at the same height. This wicked is traced with interrupted strokes (some says wicked should be pure one-lines without any interruption). The acronym SWP stands for SOUTH WEST PHILADELPHIA.
Wall Session DA
Stamp Rally
North Philadelphia
2023
Camera-embedded subjective point-of-view action footage of inscriptions in public spaces: a stamp is a pattern that an individual writer reproduces the most, no matter the style (with possible hybridizations). It defines your default graphic identity, and should vary as little as possible, like a printing matrix, in the hope of being noticed / recognized. DA’s leaning stamp proposes a unique flow.
Wall Session DA
Wicked Hands Variations
North Philadelphia
2023
Camera-embedded subjective point-of-view action footage of inscriptions in public spaces: DA wicked with NP (NORTH PHILADELPHIA) indication + DA wicked with a smiley and crew member affiliation ICP (IMPERIAL CASANOVA PERSUADERS), one of the oldest Philly team since the early 1970s.
Wall Session DA
Wicked Hands Variations
North Philadelphia
2023
Camera-embedded subjective point-of-view action footage of inscriptions in public spaces: DA wicked with a peace sign + DAZE wicked with final arrow.
The “Wickeds” (or Wickets in a Philadelphia accent) are a unique wildstyle handstyle only observable in Philadelphia. An ornamental, majuscule cursive with various flourishes, based on an extreme one-line ductus and flirting with deliberate illegibility. Wickeds represent the ultimate quest for complexity and dexterity in the reproduction of the image of the name. Wickeds appeared in the mid to late 1970s: Moe, RC aka Roy Cool, Wee or Popcorn aka Tab, were some of the precursors, and people like Notorious Bik and the Sly Artistic Masters / SAM crew developed it more consciously and systematically in the early 1980s. Kad, Sub / RX or Rakan kept the “Wicked” flame alive and brought it to new levels in the 1990s and 2000s.
“Wickeds” are highly individual experiments in the art of one-line signature, a radical consequence of the competition in letterforms and the effort to surpass aesthetic rivals. Wickeds represent a subtle equilibrium between technique and formal expressivity, the ultimate expression of the one-line approach skills and a truly radical exploration of hand-and-spray-can potentialities. Wickeds are a performance, with exaggerated letterforms and the body’s gestures in a continuous dance.
“Wickeds” are cryptic, hard to decipher for the non-initiated and can appear messy at first sight. But there is an organic inner-rhythm in the spacing of the different ligatured letters. The use of bottom loops to chain letters is very common and produces a large part of the wickeds’ distinctive silhouette. Top loops are smaller and distinctive horizontal elements situated in a zone around the top quarter of the inscription, which corresponds to the writer’s comfort-zone of chest and shoulders. Various quote marks, arrows, crowns and faces complete the inscription’s aura.
“Wickeds” are great as deliberate calligraphic follies and extreme dexterity demonstration, exaggeration, and going too far is their very nature. From a Philly writer’s perspective, Wickeds are the real deal: mastering this über complex and fast drawing game, intentionally producing encrypted inscriptions, constitutes the definitive quest. Wickeds finalise the profound nature of name writing or the art of signature: it doesn’t address the everyday pedestrian — it addresses other writers solely. Only the writers’ community indeed really pays proper attention to these cryptic signatures in the streetscape and understands the profound dedication needed in this practice, being conscious of the great level of preparation that this practice demands.
As Buford Youthward aka Suroc stated on the Art Crimes website, “many graffiti curators and so-called connoisseurs would argue that ‘Wickeds’ give graffiti a bad name, and that only its more ‘artistic’ counterparts are valid graffiti. This is the criticism of sheep. This is an argument against individualism. The true spirit of graffiti is not captured in 30-can orgies on legal walls. The truth lies in the hands of the fast-paced and the anxious heart of the individual with few means, but lots of cunning and a desire for pure expression. The ‘Wicked’ should be the graffiti of the future, and the writer that can conduct successive successful executions of a variety of Wicked styles should be held in utmost awe.”
In Philadelphia, cheap 90-sheet college-ruled notebooks found in dollar stores are the most common training format before performing in public space. More qualitative “black books” (sketchbooks with a hardcover, generally black) are shared during important occasions and meetings, and over time, they acquire a certain underground heritage value, to become rare and highly collectible items. A writer should know the local history of handstyles and should pay respect to the existing styles by trying to master them all. There is a great local sense of tradition in shapes and ductus, filiation through more or less direct mentorships, participating in regular writers’ meetings training all night on paper, etc.
Notebooks are a reminder that this practice asks for constant dedication. A recurrent local saying is the expression “Kill a notebook a day!”, a contemporary version of the “nulla dies sine linea” old Latin motto: maturing a hand takes time and dedication through a lot of (continuous) practice. The program is practice, practice, practice: obsession, perseverance, progress.
Notebooks Session I
CAEM, MAZE, DA, AVIZ & BE
North Philadelphia
2023
Beyond photographing inscriptions in the Philadelphian urban landscape, hand sessions on paper with local “writers” were video recorded from the scribe’s viewpoint for an optimal gestural rendering. A rare glimpse into the preparatory work done on paper before performing in the street bringing further understanding about this local raw aesthetics of skeletal letterforms in public spaces.
Notebooks Session II
BOZA, CAEM, RAME, WACKO & BE
North Philadelphia
2023
Hand sessions on paper with various Philly “writers” recorded from the scribe’s viewpoint for an optimal gestural rendering: “Talls Hands” and “Wicked” demos showing how interpretations differ through different generations.
Notebooks Session III
END, ZEBO, MAZE, DA
North Philadelphia
2023
A subjective point-of-view footage of different hands with a focus on modern interpretations of the old “Gangster Hand” that some writers still practice to maintain the tradition alive.
KAD on Paper
North Philadelphia
2023
A demo of various hands by KAD on some sheets of paper. KAD is active since the end the 1970s and is deeply dedicated to maintaining the highest standards of handstyles, a tireless defender of the Philadelphia calligraphic tradition. KAD is one of the most prolific Philly writers, who intensively walked the routes in both the streets and tunnels. In his own words, “a writer has to remain a mystery”. Enjoy the sound of the ballpoint pen in use by the Philly style and speed master...
KAD’s training notebook
double-page spread II
2023
{various hands, mainly wicked} KAD, KADISM, KAE/AE/DEE (phonetical spelling), R·I·P DUCK dedication (to the upper right), NORTH PHILLY 2023. On the left page, vertically, near the notebook's spiral {gangster hand} KADSTER→ KADSTER *TRK* (THEE REAL KINGS), note the typical speedy “platforms” or serifs at the bottom of the letters.
One can observe the very same “ductus” (number, order and direction of strokes to trace a sign) on notebooks and the walls. The gestures with the ballpoint mimic at reduced scale the larger gestures when standing up in front of a vertical surface with a spray can (and it is sometimes easier to identify ductus hidden secrets at notebook scale). The inscriptions on notebooks can sometimes seem basic with an unpretentious ballpoint rendering, but they have to be apprehended more as plans / miniatures of larger-scale interventions. So, the scale of the notebook is not a goal in itself. It is just the recording of larger movements to come. Tracing execution is fast, and while the ballpoint is dancing, the slight friction sound frequency over the paper indicates the level of the writer.
The “paper” (notebook training) is like a foundation. New hands’ development seems to come from paper. After first developing firmly in (note) books, they are taken to the walls. Showing up in the streets with a weak / not mature enough hand is badly perceived by the writers’ community. How much time you literally put into your hand is important.
During these preparatory practices on paper, both ballpoints (old Paper Mate rollerball, Reynolds, Bic Cristal, etc.) and round markers (Sharpies, Paper Mate Flair felt tip, “sign pens”, etc.) are used. However, one can observe a clear preference for ballpoints for most practitioners. This ballpoint domination is explained by the fact that markers usually dry too fast and are not “juicy” enough in the long term.
Chisel or broad pen-like markers are rarely used. And, when used, they are not operated following the classic calligraphic way with thick-and-thin translation effects but more on one of the edges of the nib, looking for a more monolinear flowing approach. Flat brush / broad nib effects are not something that is consciously pursued.
This documentary work about Philadelphia street penmanship was developped through a Villa Albertine residency in April and May 2023, an art and design program in the United States of America created by the French Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs and supported by the French Ministry of Culture. Villa Albertine, the French Institute for Culture and Education, is a division of the French Embassy in the United States.
This research project was conducted in partnership with the Atelier National de Recherche Typographique / Anrt based in Nancy, France.
The Atelier National de Recherche Typographique / ANRT was created in 1985 by the French Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Economy and Finance, with the aim to “contribute to the development of type design and typography”. It is now an established research unit within the École Nationale Supérieure d’Art et de Design / ÉNSAD Nancy on the ARTEM campus. The course develops a singular approach to typographic research, with a strong emphasis on connecting theoretical and practical work, as well as on developing long-term collaborations with world leading research laboratories in other areas, such as linguistics, epigraphy or computer sciences.
François Chastanet is an architect, graphic designer, and a professor of typography and letter design at the Institut Supérieur des Arts et du Design de Toulouse / isdaT, France.
He is author of groundbreaking systematic studies of contemporary tagging cultures as schools of calligraphy, and has written seminal books in the field: Pixação: São Paulo Signature and Cholo Writing: Latino Gang Graffiti in Los Angeles or Dishu: Ground Calligraphy in China.
A first concise but in-depth booklet entitled Philly Hands is available at Poem Editions and a photo fanzine entitled Philadelphia Dark Pages in the “Tag Spotlight” collection is available at Urbanario & Hitzerot. A more comprehensive photo essay book project is being prepared in collaboration with Dokument Press.
This webpage uses the Mistral SingleLine typeface, an open-source font designed by François Chastanet and his students as part of a public research project into typography and type design. Mistral SingleLine proposes a new digital version of the Mistral metal typeface originally published in 1953 by the Olive Foundry in Marseille, France. The “handwriting of the man of the twentieth century” with a ballpoint or a round fiber tip pen in hand... Mistral SingleLine is Roger Excoffon’s iconic script font in a monolinear (without thick-and-thin effects) interpretation. The typical flow of this popular French typeface, widely used for shop signage, opens up a dialogue with Philly Hands’ new paths in cursivity.
During this immersive residency in 2023, photographs were taken with Ricoh GR III and Google Pixel 7 cameras, videos of notebooks were filmed with a Sony ZV1 camera, and lateral street tracking shots were recorded with a GoPro 9 mounted on a bike’s handlebars. The few black-and-white pictures on this webpage were found online to provide a more complete historical perspective.
François Chastanet
François Chastanet is an architect, graphic and type designer, documentary author, co-founder of TypoMorpho studio based in Bordeaux, France, and teacher of the Institut Supérieur des Arts et du Design de Toulouse / ISDAT. Through graphic design commissions, documentaries and teaching, he explores the relations between architecture and written signs, from wayfinding typography to ephemeral handwritings.
At the crossroads of epigraphy and paleography, he is currently conducting doctoral research at the École pratique des hautes études / EPHE in Paris in joint supervision with the Atelier national de recherche typographique / ANRT on the evolution of Latin letterforms through six case studies of graffiti of names’ handstyles in North and South America (Los Angeles “Cholo Writing”, New York “Tags & Throw-ups” and Philadelphia “Tall Hands & Wickeds” in the United States, São Paulo “Pixação” in Brazil, Tijuana “Trepes” and Monterrey “Ganchos” in Mexico).
He published in-depth photographic surveys and essays, Pixação: São Paulo Signature (XGpress, Paris, 2007), Cholo Writing: Latino Gang Graffiti in Los Angeles (Dokument Press, Stockholm, 2009, second edition 2024) and Dishu: Ground Calligraphy in China (Dokument Press, Stockholm, 2013).
Peace to all Philly writers and people keeping the culture alive worldwide. Special thanks to Stephen “Espo” Powers for connecting with the underworld and Da / ICP for his local knowledge and constant help. Thanks to Kad & Boza / TRK for their exceptional participation in the project. Shout outs to Be / KOK, Maze / WA, End / DHS, Caem & Rame / KMD, Wacko / IAS, Zebo, Lsd / KIW, Kalon, Aviz, Nausea etc.
Philadelphia’s Community Life Improvement Program / CLIP trompe l’œil painted doors and windows with stencils on abandoned housing... A painted illusion strategy based on the “Broken Windows” theory that leads to strange optical games, a derisory and hypocritical attempt to maintain the social status quo in the perception of the urban landscape.
