<p>The boy pulled his mother’s hand on Church Street not towards a toy shop or cafe, but toward a painted wall. He stood there staring at a giant face splashed in colours as if it might speak to him. People slowed down, strangers smiled at each other, phones came out. For a brief moment, the street felt like a gallery without doors. That is what public art does, it turns passing into pausing and roads into shared rooms.</p>.<p>Public art means art placed in open spaces, on streets, flyovers, metro stations, parks and market walls, free for everyone to see.</p>.<p>It does not ask for a ticket. It does not ask who you are. In a city of concrete and glass towers, dangling cables and steel columns, it is one of the few things that belongs to all.</p>.<p>In Bengaluru, this idea is not new. The Malleswaram wall art project once turned quiet lanes into an open gallery. Murals celebrated local community and daily life. </p>.<p>But over time, the paint faded. Some walls were repainted and there was no clear maintenance plan. What started strong slowly became a memory.</p>.<p>A similar story unfolded on Church Street. During festivals and city events, murals bloomed across shutters and side lanes. Today, the wall art on Church Street still attracts visitors who stop for photos.</p>.Nothing opens its first-ever India flagship store in Bengaluru.<p>Poornima Sukumar, project director of the city’s popular art collective Aravani Art Project, told DH that an artwork can “represent a city’s past, present and future, not just through paintings”.</p>.<p>She said continuity is difficult because projects must be recommissioned and funded again. Clearer, easier permissions from authorities would encourage more people to step forward and create art, Poornima added. </p>.<p>A daily wage worker, a software engineer, a street vendor and a school child can all stand before the same mural. It creates a common ground. In some projects, diverse communities have not just watched, but taken part.</p>.<p>Collectives like Jaaga and the Aravani Art Project have involved local residents, queer communities, students and volunteers in painting walls together. </p>.<p>In 2012, Urban Avantgarde, organised by the Goethe Institut with Jaaga and the state government, brought German street artists to collaborate with local artists to create murals and wall art in the city. It was followed by many such collaborations. But the momentum did not last. </p>.<p>The future of public art in Bengaluru depends on policy, participation and patience. Urban expert Ashwin Mahesh stressed the need for stronger systems, saying, “The Bangalore Urban Arts Commission must be reconstituted. Such a body made up of artists, architects and planners, is essential to preserve city aesthetics and heritage. Painting pillars is important, but that alone will not elevate the city’s aesthetics”.</p>.<p>Bengaluru has also seen sculptures by renowned artist Yusuf Arakkal placed in public areas along with temporary installations in parks and art at metro stations. Despite these examples, there was no sustained citywide plan to carry the momentum forward. </p>.<p>Urban expert V Ravichandar told DH that public art “enriches a neighbourhood”, but pointed out that getting permissions from multiple authorities often hinders and discourages people from taking up such projects.</p>.<p>He urged GBA to make clearances easier and suggested creating "20 to 30 designated locations, not just in central business district (CBD),” where artworks could be displayed for a few months and then rotated to give others opportunities.</p>.<p>Ravichandar said a framework and progressive policy is “the need of the hour” to enable artworks, noting Bengaluru has immense potential and that private players are willing to fund projects if approvals are streamlined.</p>.<p>Why do these efforts end so soon? Artists point to funding gaps. Public art cannot survive on one-time enthusiasm. It needs a budget line, a maintenance contract and local ownership. </p>.<p>Globally, cities show how this works. In Georgetown (Malaysia), street art has created tourism trails that draw international visitors. In Berlin, the East Side Gallery has turned a historic wall into an open air gallery. Murals there are not merely decorations, but destinations too. </p>
<p>The boy pulled his mother’s hand on Church Street not towards a toy shop or cafe, but toward a painted wall. He stood there staring at a giant face splashed in colours as if it might speak to him. People slowed down, strangers smiled at each other, phones came out. For a brief moment, the street felt like a gallery without doors. That is what public art does, it turns passing into pausing and roads into shared rooms.</p>.<p>Public art means art placed in open spaces, on streets, flyovers, metro stations, parks and market walls, free for everyone to see.</p>.<p>It does not ask for a ticket. It does not ask who you are. In a city of concrete and glass towers, dangling cables and steel columns, it is one of the few things that belongs to all.</p>.<p>In Bengaluru, this idea is not new. The Malleswaram wall art project once turned quiet lanes into an open gallery. Murals celebrated local community and daily life. </p>.<p>But over time, the paint faded. Some walls were repainted and there was no clear maintenance plan. What started strong slowly became a memory.</p>.<p>A similar story unfolded on Church Street. During festivals and city events, murals bloomed across shutters and side lanes. Today, the wall art on Church Street still attracts visitors who stop for photos.</p>.Nothing opens its first-ever India flagship store in Bengaluru.<p>Poornima Sukumar, project director of the city’s popular art collective Aravani Art Project, told DH that an artwork can “represent a city’s past, present and future, not just through paintings”.</p>.<p>She said continuity is difficult because projects must be recommissioned and funded again. Clearer, easier permissions from authorities would encourage more people to step forward and create art, Poornima added. </p>.<p>A daily wage worker, a software engineer, a street vendor and a school child can all stand before the same mural. It creates a common ground. In some projects, diverse communities have not just watched, but taken part.</p>.<p>Collectives like Jaaga and the Aravani Art Project have involved local residents, queer communities, students and volunteers in painting walls together. </p>.<p>In 2012, Urban Avantgarde, organised by the Goethe Institut with Jaaga and the state government, brought German street artists to collaborate with local artists to create murals and wall art in the city. It was followed by many such collaborations. But the momentum did not last. </p>.<p>The future of public art in Bengaluru depends on policy, participation and patience. Urban expert Ashwin Mahesh stressed the need for stronger systems, saying, “The Bangalore Urban Arts Commission must be reconstituted. Such a body made up of artists, architects and planners, is essential to preserve city aesthetics and heritage. Painting pillars is important, but that alone will not elevate the city’s aesthetics”.</p>.<p>Bengaluru has also seen sculptures by renowned artist Yusuf Arakkal placed in public areas along with temporary installations in parks and art at metro stations. Despite these examples, there was no sustained citywide plan to carry the momentum forward. </p>.<p>Urban expert V Ravichandar told DH that public art “enriches a neighbourhood”, but pointed out that getting permissions from multiple authorities often hinders and discourages people from taking up such projects.</p>.<p>He urged GBA to make clearances easier and suggested creating "20 to 30 designated locations, not just in central business district (CBD),” where artworks could be displayed for a few months and then rotated to give others opportunities.</p>.<p>Ravichandar said a framework and progressive policy is “the need of the hour” to enable artworks, noting Bengaluru has immense potential and that private players are willing to fund projects if approvals are streamlined.</p>.<p>Why do these efforts end so soon? Artists point to funding gaps. Public art cannot survive on one-time enthusiasm. It needs a budget line, a maintenance contract and local ownership. </p>.<p>Globally, cities show how this works. In Georgetown (Malaysia), street art has created tourism trails that draw international visitors. In Berlin, the East Side Gallery has turned a historic wall into an open air gallery. Murals there are not merely decorations, but destinations too. </p>