Graffiti and Street Art in Reykjavik

The Difference Between Graffiti and Street Art in Reykjavik

Our guide SELUR in front of the skateshop Musteri agans on Hverfisgata, decorated by local taggers DEMON and FRESH.

"The spray can is just a tool," Selur answered when asked about the difference between street art and graffiti. "It's a tool in the same way as a knife; you can use it like the chef or like the butcher. To make something good or something bad."

For him, the labels matter less than the intention behind the work. “I really don’t know what I’m doing; if it’s art, graffiti, street art, mural painting, whatever you call it. Graffiti is just an umbrella term. I don’t care what you call it, as long as it’s made with beauty in mind. Then it’s fine by me.”

Within the scene itself, that ambiguity isn’t unusual. Artists move between tags, lettering, large-scale murals, and commissioned walls without necessarily treating them as separate disciplines. The boundaries are fluid.

One of Selur's murals at Laugavegur; this particular work has been allowed to live for five years

Outside the scene, the language tightens. In Reykjavik, “graffiti” usually signals fast, text-based work, often unsanctioned. “Street art” tends to describe larger murals, particularly those created with permission or through festivals. The distinction is less about technique than about context and consent.

And context determines reception. A tag on a shopfront is likely to be scrubbed away. A festival mural may be preserved, photographed, and mapped. Both exist in the same cityscape, but they are framed differently.

Regardless of terminology, these layers of paint have become part of Reykjavik’s visual identity, an open-air record of shifting styles, attitudes, and ownership of public space. And sightseeing in Reykjavik puts you in the middle of it.

The Evolution of Street Art in Reykjavik

Reykjavik’s street art scene did not emerge overnight. It developed through cycles of resistance, regulation, funding, and reinvention, shaped as much by politics and economics as by spray paint.

That tension between restriction and expression is visible not only in city policy, but in the working methods of individual artists. In the center, for instance, you’ll find multiple pieces by Sara Riel, whose approach reflects the legal grey zone that has long defined street art in Reykjavik.

Sara Riel is a multifaceted artist from Iceland with a degree from Weißensee University of Arts in Berlin. Her works include graphic design, illustrations, cartoons, paintings, and photography, but she is best known for her graffiti murals. 

“Phoenix” (“Fonix”) by Sara Riel. Photo by Rob Oo, licensed under CC BY 2.0, via Flickr.

When creating her murals, Sara at first attempted to do so legally. She would send forms and requests to city officials, asking for permission or funding. As time went on without any answers, she took matters into her own hands and asked house owners directly for permission. She then went ahead with the projects and initially ended up self-funding all of her work.

This vigilant method seemed to do the trick since her murals still stand, never painted over by city officials. When scouting the capital, you should easily recognise Sara’s work by her distinctive style, which seems to walk the fine line between visual art and graphic design. 

From Underground Graffiti to Official Murals

WUGO & DUST (KIDDUST) members of crews RWS & MLC doing what they do best.

When graffiti gained momentum in Iceland in the early 1990s, it was largely fuelled by the local hip hop scene. Tag crews competed for visibility, and walls across the city became territorial markers. At the time, graffiti was firmly illegal, and the city adopted a zero-tolerance stance.

In 2008, Reykjavik launched Hrein borg, a large-scale anti-graffiti campaign aimed at removing unwanted tagging. Millions of ISK were spent on clean-ups, repainting walls, and pursuing offenders. Yet as many cities have discovered, removal rarely ends the practice. It only resets the surface.

Northern Lights mural by Selur, Maggi Leifs, Bent & Margeir Dire - Still standing at Hafnarstraeti since 2003 

At the same time, Reykjavik began experimenting with official mural projects. The 2009 Glaðari gaflar initiative invited artists to submit proposals for public wall art, offering modest funding through an open competition. In 2014, the Breidholt district saw the installation of major murals by internationally renowned Icelandic artist Erró, with costs reaching tens of millions of ISK.

The contrast was striking. Significant sums were being spent both to erase graffiti and to commission large-scale public art. The tension between suppression and celebration became a defining feature of Reykjavik’s evolving street art identity.

Wall Poetry: When Festivals Took Over the Walls

A major turning point came in 2015 with the launch of Wall Poetry, a collaboration between Iceland Airwaves music festival and Berlin-based art initiative Urban Nation.

Curated by Yasha Young, the project paired ten international street artists with ten musicians performing at Airwaves. Each muralist received a song, lyric, or literary reference that had influenced the musician’s work. The idea was to reconnect music and visual art in the spirit of classic album cover culture by translating sound into large-scale public imagery.

The murals dramatically transformed central Reykjavik. Towering works by artists such as Aaron Li-Hill, Phlegm, D*Face, and others brought international attention to the city’s walls. The project was repeated the following year, further expanding the scale of commissioned muralism in the capital.

Street artist INO working with song lyrics from Icelandic band Samaris at Grettisgata 

For many, Wall Poetry signalled Reykjavik’s embrace of street art as a legitimate cultural asset. Yet the shift was not without debate. Local artists were not included in the original lineup, and some within the graffiti community questioned whether the festival murals were overshadowing the city’s homegrown scene.

“It’s as if the Airwaves murals have taken over,” Selur remarked. “Not much is happening regarding graffiti in the street scene today.” That doesn’t mean the murals themselves are to blame, Selur adds. The fact of the matter is that urban planning in Reykjavik is simply too hurried these days for any other wall art to be allowed to linger.  

And sure enough, as we walked through the city centre, there didn’t seem to be a corner that was not under construction. Building cranes hovered over our heads, and the rattling of machines filled the air; walls were being torn down, and streets were being paved to embrace new housing complexes and hotels. 

Here, construction workers have reassembled a graffiti-covered wall incorrectly, providing for a whole new piece.

“This city is getting too clean,” Selur jestingly remarked. “That’s the downer of painting these walls. Most of them are a part of construction sites, so they won’t get to live on.”

Still, the impact of Wall Poetry is undeniable. Reykjavik’s buildings became canvases visible to everyone. Art moved decisively into public space.

Tolerance, Middle Ground, and the Tunnel Years

Video about The Tunnel by The Bio Paradis Cinema. From 2024 by Noumena Films.

Even during the height of anti-graffiti campaigns, informal compromises emerged. One of the most famous examples is Hlidargongin, the underpass near Klambratun Park.

In the 1990s, the tunnel became a hub for Reykjavik’s graffiti writers. Although tagging remained illegal, city employee Jóhann “Jói” Jónmundsson, who maintained the tunnel facilities, developed an unofficial arrangement. Rather than immediately painting everything over, he allowed murals to remain as long as they avoided overtly obscene content.

Under this informal stewardship, the tunnel became something of a rotating gallery. The golden era eventually faded, but the idea of controlled tolerance lingered.

Photo by Renard Roux

Advocates such as Ellen Guðmundsdóttir have argued that providing designated areas for graffiti could reduce unwanted vandalism while giving young artists space to develop. 

“The issue is a social one,” she noted. “These kids want to be heard and appreciated for their art.” The debate continues, but Hlíðargöngin remains symbolic of Reykjavik’s attempt to find a middle ground.

Lost Spaces: Hjartagarðurinn and the 2008 Crash

Perhaps no story captures the spirit of Reykjavik’s street art better than Hjartagarðurinn, or the “Heart Park.”

Born out of the 2008 financial crash, the site behind Laugavegur 21 was originally intended for a shopping mall. When construction halted, it became an abandoned concrete shell. Where some saw urban decay, graffiti artists saw opportunity.

By 2011, Tanya Pollock, Tómas Magnússon, and our trusted guide, Selur, had transformed the area into a vibrant cultural space. Murals covered the walls. A playground, skate park, stage, and seating areas turned the site into a community hub.

For several years, locals and visitors gathered there daily. Then it was demolished, replaced by a new development. The Heart Park disappeared, leaving only photographs and memories.
Its story reflects a core truth of graffiti culture: impermanence.

“It’s all disappearing,” Selur says when passing former mural sites now under construction. “But that’s fine. It’s not supposed to live forever. It’s supposed to rotate.”

Reykjavik is constantly rebuilding itself. Murals appear in spaces awaiting demolition, only to be replaced by new works elsewhere. Galleries don't host the same exhibitions eternally, and the streets are no exception.

Photo by David Bayliss

"New things can now take their place," Selur concludes with a sly smile, most likely thinking of fresh pieces he has in mind. Street art, by nature, takes its viewer by surprise. It shows up where it's not meant to, and disappears when you least expect it. 

The only thing permanent in terms of Reykjavík's street art is its very presence. Although the individual venues and murals might go away, there will always be others to replace them. As long as a city has citizens, it will never run out of graffiti.

Where To See Street Art in Reykjavik

KIDDUST on Laugavegur, having overshadowed an RWS crew tag & BUBBLEGUM's classic They Live giraffe stencil-piece 

Reykjavik’s street art is not randomly scattered. It is concentrated in neighbourhoods that reflect the city’s creative energy and urban transformation. From colourful pedestrian streets to industrial harbour walls and gritty underpasses, exploring on foot is the best way to experience it. 

You can follow your own route through the city centre or join a Reykjavik street art walking tour for deeper insight into the artists, history, and hidden corners that might otherwise go unnoticed.

For a broader overview of murals and hidden works, the City of Reykjavik has published an interactive Reykjavik street art map featuring more than 160 artworks across the capital. The map makes it easier to locate murals, installations, and rotating pieces throughout different neighbourhoods.

Laugavegur & Skolavordustigur

The heart of downtown Reykjavik offers the densest concentration of murals and graffiti. Laugavegur, the city’s main shopping street, is lined with large-scale works, smaller stencils, pasted pieces, and layered tagging that reflect years of visual dialogue.

Running uphill from Laugavegur is Skolavordustigur, widely known as Rainbow Street. While the rainbow pavement itself is not street art, the surrounding façades frequently feature murals and rotating works that change with construction and redevelopment.

Side alleys branching off both streets often reveal hidden signatures and experimental pieces. Temporary construction walls in this area regularly become short-term canvases, meaning what you see may differ from visit to visit.

Grandi: Monumental Murals in an Industrial Setting

A Guido Van Helten mural at Grandi

The Grandi district, once dominated by fish processing factories and warehouses, has become one of Reykjavik’s most striking mural zones. Its large industrial walls allow for monumental works that would not fit comfortably in the tighter streets of the city centre.

Here you would once find the towering black and white portraits by Guido van Helten, based on archival photographs of Icelandic theatre actors from a 1961 production of Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit. The scale and realism of these murals contrast sharply with the layered graffiti downtown. However, the building has since been replaced, and the artworks are no longer visible.

The open harbour setting provides dramatic backdrops for photography. Early morning and late afternoon light tend to produce the best results, softening shadows and highlighting the texture of the concrete surfaces.

Hlemmur & Hverfisgata

A mural on Hverfisgata by Stockholm artist KURIR from tag crew PUBB - made for RVK Culture Night in 2013.

Hlemmur and the surrounding streets offer a good extension to a downtown street art walk. While this area does not feature as many large commissioned murals as Laugavegur or Grandi, it is worth exploring for smaller pieces, layered tagging, and walls that change frequently.

Walk along Hverfisgata and take short detours into the side streets leading toward Laugavegur and Snorrabraut. Look for painted garage doors, construction hoardings, utility boxes, and building façades near music venues and independent shops. Because this part of the city is undergoing steady redevelopment, temporary surfaces often become short-term canvases.

From Hlemmur, you can also continue south toward Klambratun Park, where you’ll find Hlidargongin. Even outside the tunnel itself, nearby walls and underpasses occasionally feature graffiti and repainted works, depending on recent activity.

This stretch works best as part of a broader route linking central Reykjavik to residential edges, rather than as a standalone mural destination.

Graffiti-Friendly Venues in Reykjavik and Local Names to Know

Downtown Reykjavik is not limited to outdoor walls. Several venues actively embrace graffiti and street art in Reykjavik, both outside and inside their spaces, making them part of the city’s creative identity rather than just nightlife spots. For anyone exploring Reykjavik street art, these locations offer an easy starting point.

Commissioned murals in Reykjavik by Margeir Dire can be seen outside Bar Ananas, while artists such as Geoffrey Skywalker, Arnor Kari, and the HNP-Crew have transformed the interior of Freddi Arcade with spray paint. Prikið, a long-standing cultural hub, has also featured work by KIDDUST and UglyBrothers. 

In these spaces, Reykjavik graffiti and mural art are not hidden away but fully integrated into the atmosphere, blending music, social life, and visual culture.

The front door of skate-shop Musteri agans at Hverfisgata.

Beyond these venues, the wider Reykjavik scene is shaped by a strong group of local artists whose work appears across the city centre and surrounding neighbourhoods:

• Selur (Örn Tönsberg) — Long-standing Reykjavik graffiti writer and muralist with decades of involvement in the local scene.

• Sara Riel — Reykjavik-based muralist known for works such as Furry Flight and for combining flowing line work with handwritten poetic text.

• Juan Picture Art — Local street artist recognised for multiple figurative and wildlife-inspired murals across central Reykjavik.

• Natka Klimowicz — Reykjavik-based illustrator and muralist whose works are included in the city’s mapped street art registry.

• Adam Flint Taylor — Reykjavik artist associated with public mural documentation and co-creator of the city’s street art map.

• Lilja Pálmadóttir — Icelandic artist known for the mural Incubation, painted in downtown Reykjavik.

Reykjavik’s international profile has been strengthened through the Wall Poetry project and related collaborations, which have brought globally recognised muralists to paint large-scale works across the city:

• Aaron Li-Hill — International muralist behind The Deacon of Myrká, painted on the former Iceland Opera building during Wall Poetry.

• Phlegm — British artist who created the large-scale black-and-white mural Time to Scream and Shout in Reykjavik.

• D*Face — British street artist who contributed a prominent mural to the Wall Poetry project in Reykjavik.

• Deih XLF — Spanish muralist who painted a large-scale Wall Poetry work in central Reykjavik.

• Evoca1 — International artist who created a mural in Reykjavik as part of the Wall Poetry collaboration.

• Ernest Zacharevic — Lithuanian muralist who painted a large-scale Wall Poetry piece in Reykjavik.

• Tankpetrol — German street artist who contributed a mural to the Wall Poetry project.

• TelmoMiel — Dutch duo who created a detailed figurative mural in Reykjavik during Wall Poetry.

• Elle — International muralist known for bold graphic works painted in Reykjavik through Wall Poetry.

• Caratoes (Cara To) — Australian artist who painted Ode to Mother on Laugavegur as part of Wall Poetry.

Together, these local and international artists have helped shape Reykjavik into one of the most visually distinctive street art destinations in the Nordics, where graffiti culture and large-scale muralism continue to evolve side by side.

Best Time To Explore Street Art in Reykjavik

The best time to explore street art in Reykjavik is late spring through early autumn, particularly from May to September. During this period, long daylight hours and softer evening light make it easier to photograph large murals and walk comfortably between neighbourhoods like Laugavegur, Grandi, and Hlemmur. Early mornings and late evenings are especially ideal, offering fewer crowds and more even lighting on walls.

That said, street art can be explored year-round. Winter brings shorter days but also a quieter city and striking contrasts between snow and brightly painted façades. If visiting between November and February, plan your route carefully to maximise daylight and wear appropriate footwear for icy sidewalks.

Spring and autumn often provide the best overall balance, with moderate daylight, fewer tourists, and a steady rotation of new works. Because street art in Reykjavik is frequently repainted, replaced, or removed due to construction, the “best” time is also about timing your visit around recent activity. 

Murals tend to appear or be refreshed around major events such as Iceland Airwaves and Culture Night, making the weeks following these festivals particularly rewarding for visitors hoping to see newly completed pieces.

The Temporary Nature of Reykjavik’s Street Art

Photo by Lance Anderson

Reykjavik’s street art is shaped by movement and change. Unlike works housed in galleries, murals and graffiti here live outdoors, interacting with weather, construction, and the steady evolution of the city itself. This constant renewal gives the scene its energy.

Walls are regularly refreshed. Construction hoardings become unexpected canvases. New layers of paint appear over older ones, creating a visual conversation that builds over time. Even large commissioned murals exist within this rhythm of change, contributing to a landscape that never feels static.

For many artists, this fluidity is part of the appeal. Rather than permanence, the focus is on presence. Each piece belongs to a particular moment in the city’s story.

Weather adds another dimension. Wind, rain, and winter light subtly transform surfaces, giving murals texture and character as the seasons shift. What you see one year may evolve the next, not as loss, but as progression.

As you explore, you are stepping into a living exhibition. Reykjavik’s street art reflects a city that is always adapting, rebuilding, and expressing itself in new ways. The constant transformation ensures that every walk offers something fresh to discover.

Exploring More of Reykjavik’s Creative Side

Exploring street art is not only one of the top things to do in Reykjavik, but it is also one of the most accessible. You do not need a ticket or a timetable. A walk through the city centre is enough. For those looking for free or inexpensive things to do in the capital, murals and graffiti offer colour, movement, and culture without cost.

It can even become a playful way to explore Reykjavik with kids, turning quiet streets and alleyways into an open-air gallery where each corner reveals something unexpected.

Yet street art is only one expression of the city’s creative identity. The same curiosity and experimentation that shape its walls continue inside the top museums in Reykjavik, where contemporary works, photography, and modern installations expand the conversation beyond spray paint and concrete.

That creative thread also runs through Icelandic design projects, where form and function meet storytelling. From architecture and furniture to fashion and product design, Reykjavik’s design culture reflects the same balance of minimalism, imagination, and connection to landscape that appears in its public art.

Many Reykjavik tours also weave these elements together, linking neighbourhood history, architecture, art, and everyday life into a broader understanding of the capital. In a city this compact, exploration rarely follows a straight line. A mural might lead you toward a gallery entrance. A design shop might sit just around the corner from a painted warehouse wall.

Street art may catch your attention first, but the city’s wider creative world is always close by, waiting to be discovered.

Did you enjoy our guide to the street art of Reykjavik? What are some of your favourite pieces? Do you feel the graffiti is a part of the city? Let us know what you think in the comments box below!