THE FASTER LANE / TYLER BRÛLÉ
Tagging rights
A year and half ago, I decided to trade life in Zürich’s Seefeld district (home to our HQ, handsome apartments, sunny residents and a good sense of community) for a more village (dare I say suburban?) set-up a few kilometres down the lake. It took a little bit of adjusting but I’ve now found my rhythm and a journey of nine minutes in the car, 12 minutes on the train and tram, or 15 minutes by bike isn’t too disconnected from the “big” city. As rail stops go, there’s not much to get too excited about when you pull into my little station, aside from an unloved hut that screams “retail opportunity”. I’ve often thought that the vintage wooden structure, which serves little function aside from perhaps offering shelter from a blizzard, could make a very lovely Monocle kiosk for information and caffeine-starved commuters. I even went so far to ask SBB if it would permit an operator to take over the hut but was told that the station wasn’t deemed a priority for redevelopment at the time and pointed in the direction of other opportunities.
As I moved into the area at the height of the pandemic and most of my neighbours seem to work for banks or multinationals, which seem all too happy to have their staff working from home, I don’t know what a normal Tuesday morning at 7.30 looks and feels like. Most mornings I walk the four minutes from my front door to the train platform, greet my fellow commuters, pick up and bin some masks that have fallen out of pockets and board a usually punctual SBB S-Bahn train for the two-stop ride to my tram connection. A couple of Sundays ago, my routine was interrupted when I turned the corner onto the platform and was confronted by a station that had been attacked by a sprayer (or pack) representing Football Club Zürich (FCZ) and armed with paint markers, spray cans and stickers. Across a 300-metre area, almost every surface had been blighted with signature zigzag FCZ tags, the tunnel underneath the platforms sprayed with an incoherent blue mess, and various signs obscured by thick pen marks.
If you’re reading this in Switzerland or spend much time there, you’ll know that the country has a strange relationship with graffiti – some of it celebrated, most of it tolerated and few effective measures taken to stop it. In the absence of much in the way of violent crime or youthful mischief, I think lawmakers tolerate graffiti as it’s seen as generally harmless and the only people likely to get hurt are the little assholes who might fall in front of a train while covering a concrete wall near a main interchange. And concrete plays a big part in the nation’s spray culture as there’s no country that likes pouring gleaming stretches of concrete as part of its infrastructure and architecture as much as Switzerland. While one might argue that some graffiti is graphically and culturally interesting, mindless tagging and destruction of public and private property is rather different.
For a brief moment, my belief that I live in a functioning society returned and I was proud that the damage would not be allowed to linger.
While I waited for my train to arrive, I decided to document this attack on my defenceless little station and send it to the railway company. It’s important to point out “defenceless” as Switzerland also has a curious relationship with surveillance and this means that you’re just as unlikely ever to see video footage of an unwitting commuter being followed off a late-night train by their attacker as you are images of little thugs spraying a rail station in the wee hours of a Sunday morning. By the time I boarded the train, I’d found the security contact, uploaded my pictures and received an automated reply with a case number and a promise to be contacted. Within 30 minutes, I received a note offering me a number to call for faster service, the name of someone to speak to and another promise that the rail operator takes this matter seriously. Two days later, to my amazement, the station was spotless – signs replaced, glass scrubbed, surfaces blasted and cleaned.
For a brief moment, my belief that I live in a functioning society returned and I was proud that the damage would not be allowed to linger. On Tuesday it happened again, only this time the sprayers wanted to inflict more damage: defacing ticket machines, profanity mixed with their FCZ tags and a message that they wouldn’t relent. By Wednesday morning, to my total amazement, the station was back to its old self with new panels placed on the ticket machines and even the chain-link fence scrubbed clean. How? And at what cost to SBB and ultimately to the taxpayer? I fully applaud the strategy to fight property damage with swift repairs but when I look around Zürich, with all its property-defacing football club tags, I’d like to ask: what contribution do the clubs make to clean-up operations or to educating the little assholes who do nothing for their teams or brand Zürich?