The word “graffiti” usually conjures images of people with spray cans illegally making murals or jotting down tags using colorful paints. A lot artistic interventions use other tools and materials, though, subverting expectations and working in (literal and legal) gray areas to create works without leaving a conventional trace. Consider, for instance, the massive deep sea monsters, jungle predators and swamp creatures of Russian illustrator Nikita Golubev that lurk in the grimy shadows on the sides and backs of trucks.

Along similar lines, this series of skulls by artist Orion was made by scrubbing car exhaust from an active tunnel. For those looking to deter street art and artists, subtractive interventions like these can be tricky to pin down. After all, Golubev and Orion are simply cleaning vehicles or public surfaces, albeit very selectively. In many cases, the end result is actually further cleaning — art like this often pushes municipalities to send out teams that then wash off entire areas to make them look consistent again.

This artistic approach draws different reactions depending on the scale and situation. Take snow calligraphy, for instance — few people seem to mind a nice message traced into the hood of their car. Artist Faust notes that virtually “everyone has an affinity for writing in the snow as a child,” so perhaps it’s also something people feel they can relate to on a more experiential level.

Reverse graffiti not only provokes different response—it also spans a variety of materials and methods and can work with greenery as well as it does with snow or grime. Some moss artists work additively, creating mixtures to apply to surfaces and thus encouraging moss to follow particular grown patterns to produce an specific result. Others, however, actively remove moss to create desired words, patterns and illustrations.

Stefaan de Croock falls into the latter category, using power-washing tools to create cityscapes and other whimsical scenes on surfaces previously covered in layers of moss. As with a lot of reverse graffiti projects, his pieces are generally temporary — the moss simply grows back in to fill the voids over time.

SpY’s work in Besancon, France, combines elements of reverse graffiti and tree sculpting. Turning topiary approaches into a mural-making technique, he shaped vines into a circular work of wall art using an elevated work platform, trimming his way toward a perfect circle.

Light art and projection bombing are even more temporary and generally even less invasive than reverse graffiti. Lighting machines aimed at buildings to create patterns or spell out messages can be targeted and disabled if they persist, but ephemeral light painting like the above work by Lichtfaktor are deployed quickly using glowsticks or other portable devices and have to be captured on camera to work, making them brilliantly elusive.

Meanwhile, if light art is about brief visibility, then hydrophobic spray art is about lasting invisibility. Both are made to be seen and not seen in particular ways, but the latter has a key ingredient that determines when a design or artwork is visible: wetness.

When the hydrophobic NeverWet spray came out, it promised to waterproof everything, but some users found they had mixed results in applying it to things like clothing and touchscreens – it discolored shoes and left a sticky film on devices. Then someone thought to create a stencil and tag sidewalks with the stuff and a new type of visible-when-wet graffiti was born. One can, of course, free-spray with it as well, but stencils help make the outcome more controlled and predictable.

The same basic artistic idea has been applied in other contexts by designers, too — selective hydrophobia can be incorporated into brick pavers or concrete sidewalks, for instance, to create patterns that change with the weather. Clever urbanists might consider ways to integrate useful messages or wayfinding elements into such projects, like arrows pointing to nearest sources of shelter in a storm. Similarly, messages that appear on surfaces that change color with temperature could be used to guide people on particularly hot or cold days.

Practical designs aside, artists continue to experiment outside of traditional material palettes with works that raise questions about visibility and invisibility. There is fun to be found at the intersections of these ideas, embodied in projects like this one by 3D artist Milane Ramsi, who combined different approaches into a single installation — a concrete pillar appears to vanish while simultaneously revealing three-dimensional lettering more reminiscent of conventional graffiti.

Additive or subtractive, vandalism has its grey areas, but what about the seemingly more straightforward removal of graffiti? Here again there are shades of gray. Some artists, like Mathieu Tremblin, paint a surface clean then write over graffiti with their own work — in his case: humorously replacing loose tags with digital-style tag clouds. That, clearly, is of a kind with what was underneath; in places where tagging is illegal, replacement tags are too.

Then there is the saga of the infamous Banksy and the so-called Gray Ghost, an anti-street artist who leaves signature splotches of gray in the wake of his graffiti removals. Some argue the Ghost’s work vandalizes art — others say it is itself art. Legally, like Banksy’s illegal murals, both artists work in a similar space, though in Banksy’s case building owners often go to great lengths to preserve his art, in part for its monetary value.

Exceptions aside, municipal laws are usually clear on painted public art and the goal is generally total graffiti erasure, though it doesn’t always work out that way. This kind of official cleanup usually draws binary responses, viewed by some as a welcome fix and by others as an act of defacement. One award-winning film, however, argues for a third point of view: graffiti removal as the ultimate next step in the progression of modern art. Despite its semi-satirical intent, The Subconscious Art of Graffiti Removal raises provocative questions about what constitutes street artwork in the gray areas of additive and subtractive graffiti.

Massive deep sea monsters, jungle predators and swamp creatures lurk in the grimey shadows on the backs of trucks, thanks to interventions by illustrator Nikita Golubev. Most of the featured critters are of the potentially creepy variety, including a deep-sea angler fish, octopus, shark, alligator, lion, owl and orangutan.

Based in Russia, the artist works on cars sometimes as well, but finds the broad doors and long sides on larger vehicles particularly inviting as blank canvasses for light-on-dark works of art.

As a subtractive strategy, there is less risk associated with these impermanent pieces as well — at worst, some truck driver may be less than amused to find their dirty vehicle highlighted in such a way.

Reverse graffiti is nothing new, but most artists who work in that vein operate at smaller scales, cleaning up sections of door and rear windows rather than tall trucks. Naturally, these pieces are all temporary, destined to come off in the wash or rinse out in the rain (but live on in photographs).

Japanese culture is commonly thought of as being centered around quiet politeness and public respect. If so, this may be a physical representation of that interpretation – a remarkably subtle and deferential structure-destroying process with many levels of conscientious thought behind it (not to mention a brilliant visual effect, per the video below).

This elegant form of razing is “reverse engineering” in a much more literal sense – taking apart what has been put together with equal care. The strange structure that seems to move down the building does just that: at each stage, it is held up, then strategically lowered as the process unfolds, making it appear as if the building is shrinking (perhaps imperceptibly to pedestrians, but noticeable as time lapses).

Demolition might be too strong a word: Taisei’s Ecological Reproduction System (aka Tecorep) caps buildings and proceeds to disassemble them piece by piece and level by level in order to reuse intact components and materials. While the approach is not entirely unique to Japan, the lengths gone to in these cases to dampen sound and reduce construction clutter are particularly pronounced.

The process does more than just aid in reuse – it lower environmental impact, from dust and debris to sound, all of which are buffered. And as elements are dropped down by crane, the power generated by that release of potential energy serves to generate electricity for the deconstruction efforts. The entire system is, in short, incredibly considerate and extremely well thought-out.

Things have come a long way since the world’s first vending machine – a 2000-year-old device that dispensed holy water when a coin was slipped into a slot. Some now-vintage models dispense art or books – other new machines can cook food, recognize your face, respond to touch, and allow you to trade in your old gadgets and gizmos for new devices or even cold hard cash.

Art-O-Mat: Art in Cigarette Pack-Sized Packages

The Art-o-Mat is a pioneer in the realm of vending-machine reuse – a series of retired cigarette dispensers have been converted to vend art. With over 90 recycled machines around the United States, they have sold work from 100s of global artists.

The key to submitting your own micro-masterpiece? Making whatever you do – be it sculpture, craft, photography or painting – fit into a cig-sized box. People not near a machine can also order a carton of ten works to be shipped anywhere in the world.

Biblio-Mat: Skip the Sidewalk Discount Shelf

Switching gears, but not styles or machines: here is a lovely vintage machine that vends printed-word art (best known as books). From its creator, Craig Small: “The Biblio-Mat is a random book dispenser built … for The Monkey’s Paw, an idiosyncratic antiquarian bookshop in Toronto.”

As to its operation: “When a customer puts coins into it, the Biblio-Mat dramatically whirrs and vibrates as the machine is set in motion. The ring of an old telephone bell enhances the thrill when the customer’s mystery book is delivered with a satisfying clunk into the receptacle below.”

Swap-O-Matic: Exchange Instead of Buying or Selling

Some vending machines are not about the money at all, like the Swap-O-Matic – a set of one-stop non-shops for trading what you have for something else you want. Added items are turned into credits, which, in turn, can be converted into other objects – reduce, reuse, recycle, swap!

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Rein Vend 7 Converted New Reverse Vending Machines

As graffiti and technology evolve alongside one another more and more innovative street artists are mixing media to create radical hybrids of graffiti art, design and technology. Some employ high-tech equipment to project giant graffiti murals while others use it to enhance their street art stealth and portability. Some use tech less directly – as a source humorously geeky inspiration and subject matter.

Amongst the various developments in the world of urban street art reverse and temporary graffiti are two of the most exciting. Reverse graffiti involves the creation of patterns by selectively cleaning (as opposed to painting) surfaces. Temporary graffiti is there then gone, also leaving no trace in the end. What makes these two types particularly promising is that they are (at worst) less destructive or (at best) even legal in some locations. Click to learn more: