Houston is rapidly becoming a major player in the world of street art. It boasts over 850 murals that vividly depict the city’s evolving cultural landscape. Houston now stands toe-to-toe alongside other reputable cities with deep mural art histories, including New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco, and Philadelphia.
At the forefront of this movement is local muralist Daniel Anguilu, whose work transcends mere aesthetics and delves into the heart of identity, community, and challenging historical narratives. He is one of BIPOC Arts Network and Fund’s (BANF) 2023 Artist Awardees, whose art can be found throughout the city and worldwide.
Anguilu’s artistic journey began in graffiti, a movement fueled by a desire for self-expression rather than artistic recognition. “I come from graffiti, so it wasn’t, there was no future in it, but just to do it for some time and see what happens,” he explains. The label “artist” itself feels restrictive to Anguilu. “I think being an artist already kind of puts a label that even limits you of who you are. When you paint graffiti, sometimes we call ourselves writers because you write on things, but you never call yourself an artist.”
His approach to public art is deeply rooted in his formative years in Mexico, where murals served as educational tools, fostering a sense of collective identity. “Living in Mexico, murals were more about educational value, telling the story of who we are as people,” he says. “That understanding of public art is something I want to keep alive.”
Looking at Houston’s growing mural scene, Anguilu sees an opportunity to bridge the gap between established art movements and the city’s rich underground graffiti culture. “Houston is really missing out on the 30 years plus that we’ve had this type of movement,” he said. “We want these big murals, but no one’s looking at how these other kids here from Houston, the ones who were arrested for spray painting these public buildings, were being treated.”
Graffiti, for Anguilu and his generation, was more than just an artistic medium; it was a necessity, a voice for marginalized communities. “Spray paint was the perfect tool for us,” he explains. “It was accessible in certain neighborhoods, and you didn’t have to have an art school degree to learn how to use it. You just had to know someone who had used it before.” He emphasizes the cultural significance of the art form: “For us, it was a necessity. It wasn’t about art school; it was about expressing ourselves. The spray painting process wasn’t just about the tool—it was about the cultural connection.”
Anguilu’s vision for the future is one of reconciliation and empowerment. He aspires for his work to challenge the mistreatment of young artists and celebrate the power of self-expression. “There’s never been a proper apology for mistreating minority kids for expressing themselves,” he said. “I’ve seen the mistreatment of creative young adults who just wanted to express themselves in public. I would love for my work to tell the story of how they were wrong about mistreating kids in the neighborhoods for expressions.”
Dr. Siddiqui, executive director of Culture of Health Advancing Together (CHAT), echoes Anguilu’s sentiments about the transformative power of mural art. The organization is also a major supporter of Anguilu’s work. “Murals…not only make a community, like a neighborhood, beautiful; they tell that community’s story and narrative. They tell the stories of the people who live in that community,” she said.
CHAT has been instrumental in using art to improve the health and well-being of immigrants and refugees in Houston, particularly in communities like Gulfton, where many of Anguilu’s murals can be found. According to Siddiqui, murals create a sense of belonging.
“The people in the community see themselves there and say, okay, they belong. It’s like their home. It’s where they live, and this area tells their story.” This is particularly significant in a city as diverse as Houston, where representation and cultural expression are vital to social integration.
The organization has used murals to address social issues and promote community health. “We could also deliver those messages through murals…for advocacy, voting rights, or census, for COVID vaccine,” she added.
For Anguilu, art is not about personal fame or recognition. He rarely signs his work, choosing instead to let it exist independently within the community. “I want my work to be outside that…to respect public space. I can’t be an advertisement,” he explained.
Looking ahead, Anguilu hopes his work will inspire a deeper understanding of the cultural expressions that have long been a part of Houston’s identity. “Things are happening around us that we’re not paying attention to…because the people telling us how to think about expressions do not understand us.” His work is a call to action, urging the community to recognize and cultivate the creative voices that have been overlooked or suppressed.
