Shaun Crawford is a multidisciplinary artist and graffiti writer from East Harlem, New York. Deeply rooted in New York’s graffiti tradition, he began tagging as a kid and eventually became known for mixing his own inks and dyes from raw materials, a hands-on process that fuels his distinctive visual language. His work often fuses chaotic graffiti energy with cartoon imagery, repurposing characters like Smurfs or Mickey Mouse into socially charged, vibrantly layered pieces. Crawford has collaborated with brands including Supreme, Arc’teryx, Nike, BAPE, Givenchy, and Engineered Garments, blending street aesthetics with commercial design. He’s exhibited widely, with solo shows at Anthony Gallery in Chicago such as The Beginning of This. The End of That. And was recently featured in the 2025 Graffiti exhibit at Museion in Italy. Beyond gallery work, Crawford stays grounded in community, leading workshops like “Color Studies” with Arc’teryx that teach graffiti and tie-dye techniques. His practice represents a rare blend of street credibility, material experimentation, and high-art legitimacy—bridging graffiti’s underground roots with global contemporary culture.
Issue 11 features photos of Shaun in his art studio in Manhattan, accompanied with a conversation between Shaun and REHAB IRAK. Full interview in print.
Let’s start at the beginning. What first inspired you to pick up a spray can or marker?
I’m 46 years old. I was born in 1978. By the time I was five or six years old, Beat Street and all that was out, breakdancing, graffiti movies, it was everywhere. Growing up in Harlem, there was always a lot of graffiti around. We didn’t ride the trains much; my family had a car, so we’d drive on the highways, and I’d see all the bombed highways. I was always curious: How do they do that? Who’s doing that? Why? How can I get involved? I was always into drawing, tracing comic books and cartoons until I learned the shapes and could draw them myself. I was naturally drawn to it. I can’t say exactly what made me want to do it. It was just always there.
Right. What is 119 and what significance does it hold to you?
119 is the block I grew up on, 119th St. and Lexington Ave in Spanish Harlem. That area made me who I am.
Now this next question — you can decide if you want to answer it. You were part of a very influential group of graffiti artists in the early 90s, RFC and DFA, who set fashion trends that still exist today. Did you ever imagine that what you were doing would have a global impact?
Not at all. I don’t even think it had a global impact, I think the globe had an impact on us. We were just kids trying to get fly and look cool. When I met the RFC and DFA guys, it was all around the same time. I grew up in Harlem but moved to Burnside at 13, started high school, and would take the train to Washington Irving at 14th St. The school was a mix of Bronx, Harlem, and Brooklyn kids. A lot of the style I started emulating came from the Brooklyn Lo Life dudes. They were fly — older kids who were already seniors or had graduated but still came around. One of my first friends was a kid named Emmett from Brooklyn, affiliated with Lo Life dudes. He wore some Polo; I had a little because my dad was into Polo and used to send me clothes. Uptown style didn’t do much for me anymore, I had seen it so much. So at Irving, meeting all these Brooklyn cats, it was a different vibe I was into. At Irving, I met all these people from Brooklyn, they had a different speed that I liked. When I met the RFC dudes, they were rocking Polo, North Face, Eddie Bauer, which was big at the time and easy to steal since it was everywhere. I got into boosting clothes with RFC, and the DFA dudes all lived on Burnside. I met them through RFC, and we all started hanging out.
119 is the block I grew up on, 119th St. and Lexington Ave in Spanish Harlem. That area made me who I am.
Shaun Crawford
When you say RFC, who was the first person you met?
RAST.
Was he already the prez?
RAST and CA ONE (RIP) are the co-prez. RFC stands for Running From Cops and Rockin Fresh Clothes. From what I remember, they met BUSTA who lived in a group home by Phipps. Everyone hung out there and became friends. BUSTA was the biggest dude in the crew. If there was ever a problem, BUSTA would handle it.
BUSTA was like a boogeyman.
Exactly. He’d show up and handle it.
Before I met or even heard of BUSTA, I heard stories: “There’s this dude BUSTA downtown…” Anyway, moving on, you painted a tribute to Virgil at the Off-White store in NYC. How did that come about?
It’s funny, when I heard he passed, there was a lot online. Then I got a DM from a guy, I honestly can’t remember his name, asking if I’d be interested in doing something for Virgil. I didn’t know him, so I asked what they had in mind. They asked if I’d paint the front of the store. I said, sure, why not. Even though I didn’t know Virgil personally, I knew people who worked with him. His rise was inspiring to watch. He went to school for architecture and got into designing. He incorporated people he knew into his projects and from what I heard, everyone got paid well. Ironically, my first gig in fashion, besides painting for Goyard, was making 200 pairs of sneakers for his first Nike “The Ten” project. That was my first check. Even though we never met, his influence got me work. So I was honored to do it. At first, I planned to do a straight letter piece. But on my way there, I remembered his throw-up and decided to paint that on the store. I thought it was fitting. Also, my first solo shows in Chicago were with Easy Otabor, who used to work for Virgil at RSVP Gallery. So it all connected.
That’s dope. Wasn’t your name on some list of artists he wanted to work with?
One of the people who contacted me said that, but I don’t know for sure. If so, that’s dope.
Yeah, not confirmed.
Right. I’ve always been into clothes but never considered myself a fashion designer. I just view everything as art projects.
Beyond painting, are there other art forms you’re exploring right now?
Sculptures. Textiles. I do a lot of hand embroidery. Pretty much anything I feel like learning. If I see something online that interests me, I’ll research it and either try it myself or collaborate with someone to incorporate my drawings into it. It really depends on the day.
Do you see graffiti as a crime, an art, or a way to fuck with the system, or all three?
All three. It’s an art because it has structure: tagging, throw-ups, pieces, characters. There are unwritten rules, though I don’t think anyone needs to abide by them. We should respect each other, but some rules are just counterproductive. As a political statement: yes and no. Graffiti is about making your voice heard, whether that’s writing “fuck Trump” or just your name.
*Full interview available only in-print. Photos by Franklin Carbonatti
This story for the release of Issue 11 of Living Proof Magazine. Now available on our Patreon and Online Shop.
