ADV51’s newly painted graffiti glowed green on the cracked cement surface of the abandoned building. Sharp arrows jutted out from a complex web of interconnected lines in pale and fluorescent green; sometimes stern and angular, other times, curved like licks of flame. Dots manifested like emerald marbles or black ellipses that gave the painting the appearance of a “locomotive train,” remarked an appreciative passerby, a topless middle-aged man in a white hat whose fruit garden bordered the edge of the building’s lawn.
This peculiar scene took place a few hours before sunset in Serpong, South Tangerang, near the suburban community where ADV51 spent his teenage years. The setting: a sprawling, untamed plantation, hidden from the main road by a dense foliage of trees, and nestled beside a small hill of picturesque Chinese graves. Shrubbery of tall grass dotted the perimeter, alongside derelict, weather-worn buildings just like the one ADV51 was painting on. “Graffiti takes you to the strangest of places,” mused the soon-to-be 30-year-old graffiti writer—a term he preferred compared to ‘artist’—as he observed his surroundings.
He would know: ADV51 is a well-travelled guy. Beyond Indonesia, his big, bold pieces (a total contrast to his lithe figure) also grace walls across Russia, the UK, Taiwan, and even the tightly regulated streets of South Korea and Japan. Think freezing freight yards and brutalist Soviet architecture, mossy walls that span the River Thames’ rocky shores, and a concrete-clad chicken coop hidden away in the hilly outskirts of Tokyo.
“I like ‘virgin’ walls,” he said, using the graffiti lingo for unmarked surfaces. “And sometimes, the bizarreness of their surroundings can add value to your painting.”
“The Internet played a big part in maturing the local graffiti scene.”
Before all that, however, ADV51’s journey into the graffiti scene began much closer to home—taking shape gradually during the long carpool rides home from school when he was just nine years old. “I had no interest in art whatsoever. But then I met this senior, a few years older than me, who was always showing off his graffiti sketches,” he reminisced. “And whenever we passed by graffiti walls in areas like Pondok Indah, he would often claim that he was there the night before, spray painting with his crew. His stories fascinated me. A couple of years later, in 2006, I made my first painting on a wall.”
Tagged across a nondescript wall in the backstreets of Bintaro Sektor 9, the piece marked his debut as ADV51, a name he adopted from the small graffiti crew he formed with his neighbourhood friends. Though he claimed to be the least skilled out of the three-member group, he was the only one to take the hobby outside of sketchbooks and into the streets.
“I was always on my bicycle, trying to find the next place to paint. And during those first five years, my painting was really bad,” he laughed. Then, in 2011, he became close friends with another graffiti writer called Java1, who now goes by Sikon. “In my generation, he’s definitely up there in terms of style, and he’s a total graffiti nerd. He pushed me to explore my writing further and advised me to draw on my sketchbook with a permanent ink, which encourages you to be more intentional as you sketch. He was very crucial in my development as a graffiti writer.”
In addition to practicing their painting on empty houses and random cargo containers—tagging under the crew name of ‘Jerking Paint’ or JP—the two of them often spent their afternoons after school scouring the internet for references. Forums and websites like tembokbomber.com, pyloxworld.tk and especially getnloose.com provided them with a breadth of knowledge that brought them in proximity to not only their seniors in the local graffiti scene but also notable figures across Europe and America.
“The Internet played a big part in maturing the local graffiti scene. Even if it’s already about 20 years in the making, the subculture here in Indonesia is still very young compared to Europe and America, where its roots can be traced back all the way to the late ‘70s,” remarked ADV51. “It’s true that earlier local graffiti writers like Kimswell—who’s an OG, his work was all over Fatmawati—had references from MTV, but it was the internet that really put the scene out there. Especially those early 2000s websites, which I’m lucky to have grown up with.”
Precise and structural—as if following a clear blueprint—hints of ADV51’s architectural background are interspersed within his letters.
The names and references ADV51 learned from these graffiti sites stayed with him as he went off to Europe to study architecture. But while he continued to be active enough with his art as an undergrad in Russia—from filling the entire second floor of his dormitory building with graffiti (with permission) to getting into a risky brush with the authorities while painting on a newly cleaned railside wall—it wasn’t until he arrived in the UK in 2021 to do his master’s in the same field where he became fully immersed in the graffiti community.
One can see this influence shaping his signature graffiti style: precise and structural—as if following a clear blueprint—hints of ADV51’s architectural background are interspersed within his letters. Arrows sometimes appear like roofs over the ‘construction’, and his colour choices became more minimalist, an approach that he adopted to highlight his handstyle further.
“I like mixing old and new references—like pale retro hues and ‘70s styles with more modern, dynamic colours. Sometimes, my influences also go beyond graffiti, pulling from architecture, book layouts, and even in-flight safety brochures,” he shared. “A friend once also noticed similarities in my style with ‘90s school gang tags in Jakarta, which I grew up admiring for their originality and cool handstyles.”
As for his choice of location, beyond his preference for brutalist, concrete surfaces, “I’m not too concerned about whether people see my graffiti or not. I’m drawn to abandoned, bizarre spots—who would come across my work there?” shrugged ADV51. “What matters more is finding the right momentum. Sometimes, I’d do it on a wall in plain sight, right by the road. But other times, I have to travel deep into a quiet corner of the city where no one else goes.”
“Throughout my time in the UK, whether it was in London, Manchester or Cardiff, we often trade references with books and zines.”
It was also in the UK where he finally had the chance to meet childhood heroes like the London-based graffiti writer and typographer, Roids. “He has been one of my favourite graffiti writers since high school. I never imagined I’d get to meet him, let alone paint with him multiple times in the city,” remarked ADV51 proudly. “He was the one to introduce me to the novelty of virgin walls and the extra effort it takes to secure one. It takes discipline. One time, I was running ten minutes late for our meet-up. It was seven in the morning, but he still left without me, and I had to make my own way there.”
There was also Alex, the elusive artist behind the legendary zine “Bomb Alert”, with whom ADV51 once memorably painted a small box truck. And up in Cardiff, Wales, he met Ceres and Sleep, who showed him stacks of police files documenting the writers’ run-ins with the law across countries in Europe and America for graffiti. But beyond Ceres and Sleep’s encounters with authority—and the way they held their ground under intense interrogation—it was their extensive collection of graffiti books that left a strong impression on ADV51.
“Throughout my time in the UK, whether it was in London, Manchester or Cardiff, we often trade references with books and zines. Sometimes we might even end up not talking at all, too busy with poring over the pages,” he recalled. By the time he left the UK, he had already amassed more than a hundred volumes on graffiti, including notable titles such as “Tales From Belgium” by ALIAS PRESS and “Crack and Shine International” by Topsafe London. “It’s a bit different here in Indonesia, where we still mainly use Instagram for that purpose.”
But the problem with the Internet is that nothing stays forever. “It either becomes lost in the noise or disappears altogether. Those old forums and websites, for example, are no longer accessible. Which is a shame, because the work of those senior graffiti writers were really influential in defining our local graffiti language, but there’s hardly any online record left of them now, let alone a physical one.”
Thus, taking inspiration from one of his favourite rare finds, the photobook “Блок 102 – Rosa Canina” by SONIK, which details the graffiti writer’s journey home to Bulgaria from France, ADV51 set out to begin the process of creating a physical archive of his own work and experience.
“There’s something eternal about physical releases.”
Published by Batavia Kats or BKATS 3000 in 2024, the photobook “You Only Have Today” captures ADV51’s exploits in the UK in the summer of 2023. Across its pages, the island’s misty valleys and verdant countryside intermingle with bright splashes of graffiti imposed upon city streets, dark tunnels and damp canals. He photographed most of these scenes himself with a 35mm film camera, a skill he ironically learned under the direction of his parents, who wanted to distract him from graffiti (“They tried a lot of things, even golf”).
Armed with that experience, he went on to oversee the publication of his graffiti crew Potato With Salt’s 10th-anniversary book that same year. This hefty hardcover volume compiles their work with photographs taken over the decade, offering candid glimpses into the misadventures of a graffiti writer—packed with personal stories, anecdotes, and even screenshots of chat conversations from the crew members.
“There’s something eternal about physical releases. With the disappearance of those old forums, a gap has formed between the past and the newer generation of graffiti writers. But with books or zines, what we document today can remain relevant for years to come. As long as it holds merit, tells a story, and has a unique perspective, your work never truly loses its significance. It might even gain value over time.”
The same, however, doesn’t always apply to the very art of graffiti itself. Ephemeral by nature, writers often spend hours on pieces that may not even last the week—always in competition with one another and even at odds with the law. “That’s just the reality of it. In crowded places like London, for example, your work could be gone by the next day. There’s never a guarantee it will last.”
It would be easy to moralise and debate on the actions of these graffiti writers, arguing about whether what they’re doing is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. But there would be no end to that discussion. Regardless of one’s perspective on the matter, there is something undeniably admirable—exciting, even—about their stubbornness to constantly challenge the odds.
“I’m actually planning to lay low for a bit to prioritise my personal life and get back into photography. But I’ve got something major planned for my upcoming trip around the world. Just you wait.”
