As digital campaigns rise, muralists see work dry up ahead of polls

But this election season, typically the busiest time for muralists, has been unusually dry. Artists attribute it to the rise of digital campaigns and political parties’ growing reliance on attention-driven marketing.

From mass communication to fading medium

Political murals in Tamil Nadu trace their origins to the Self-Respect Movement of the 1940s, when social reformer EV Ramasamy’s followers used public walls to spread his messages challenging caste discrimination. Over the decades, murals became a powerful tool for political communication, shaping public memory.

A mural featuring a portrait of late Tamil Nadu chief minister M Karunanidhi (Photo: Nithya Pandian)

“Dravidar Kazhagam is the first political movement that used public spaces for political messages across the state. It was one of the ways to carry the radical messages of EV Periyar on the Self-Respect Movement,” says art director Trotsky Marudu, noting their later use during anti-Hindi agitations.

“When printing press technology evolved in cinema, the painters found alternative livelihoods as letter artists, signboard artists, political muralists, banner and poster artists for small businesses,” he adds.

In most localities, walls are informally “owned” by political parties, regardless of who is in power. Local leaders secure both public and private walls, often paying lease amounts ranging from Rs 10,000 for a 10×10 ft space to Rs 20,000 annually for a 30×10 ft wall.

The wall used by Parimalam in Adyar, for instance, was secured by a local DMK functionary in 1989. “This is a mutual understanding between parties. We don’t cross each other’s paths,” he says.

Any walls that are poorly maintained or left unused for over two years can be claimed by other parties for their political messaging.

Once secured, murals typically take two to three days to complete. One day is needed for the background, and two days for sketching and painting.

However, this system is beginning to change. In some places, artists now paste digitally printed images and add hand-painted election campaign messages, says Krishna Kumar, an artist from Vyasarpadi.

Fewer orders, shrinking opportunities

But today, the very walls that once carried political messaging are losing relevance.

Vasudevan, a 47-year-old muralist from Vyasarpadi, says he received nearly 30 orders in the three months leading up to the 2016 assembly elections. By 2021, that number had dropped to three, partly due to Covid restrictions. This year, he says, he has received none. “I used to paint (portraits of) leaders from DMK and Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK). This election, I have not received a single order.”

After three decades in the profession, Vasudevan now supplements his income by painting school walls and taking up corporate projects.

According to Vijay Krishna, Deputy President of the Tamil Nadu Artists Association, this has been one of the worst election season for muralists. “Not just portrait painters, even letter artists who write political messages or announcements of Maanaadu (general meetings) have stopped getting assignments,” he says.

“A significant number of artists today are either unemployed, forced to take up alternative jobs, or have reduced their practice to a part-time pursuit due to lack of consistent opportunities.”

Parimalam Perumal has spent decades documenting political shifts through his art. (Photo: Nithya Pandian)

A changing landscape

The decline is also shaped by changing urban spaces.

Artists say political murals are more common in north Chennai than in the city’s south and central parts, where private property dominates, and residents are less receptive to political imagery.

Vasudevan, who painted a wall near a hotel in Nungambakkam in central Chennai for nearly 30 years, lost that space after redevelopment. Parimalam, who once painted at five locations in Adyar, an upscale neighbourhood in Chennai, now has only three.

“People here are reluctant to see such artworks in residential areas,” says Naveen, Vasudevan’s son. “But in North Chennai, even small homeowners would let us use their walls for political murals.”

Low pay, job uncertainty

Even when work is available, earnings remain low and inconsistent.

Artists are typically paid per square foot — up to Rs 40 — with materials such as paints and brushes supplied by local party workers. Naveen says his father earned Rs 300 a day two decades ago; today, it is about Rs 1,200, a modest increase given inflation.

The lack of formal contracts adds to the precarity.

“Unlike conventional studio-based work, our artists undertake physically demanding assignments that require extensive travel and long working hours under harsh weather. Despite the intensity and complexity of this work, compensation remains inconsistent and often inadequate,” says Vijay Krishna.

“In many cases, artists are engaged informally, leaving them vulnerable to delayed payments, underpayment, or, in extreme situations, non-payment even after completion of work.”

The rise of digital campaigns

Artists attribute much of the decline to the rapid expansion of digital campaigning.

Election campaigns now rely on teams of social media managers, video editors and content creators, producing a steady stream of posts, reels and videos.

A Chennai-based digital marketing firm that has worked on the 2021 assembly elections and 2024 Lok Sabha elections said it charges up to Rs 1 lakh per client for regular digital campaigns, with costs rising to Rs 10 lakh during elections.

“During election season, we expand our teams, hire photographers and videographers, and produce exclusive content,” a manager said. The firm also uses AI tools to enhance video output.

Another agency working with multiple ministers said funds are increasingly directed toward online campaigns, including social media ads, YouTube content, television placements and influencer promotions. According to the agency, as much as 70% of the budget is now allocated to digital campaigning.

In most areas, walls are informally “owned” by political parties, regardless of who is in power. (Photo: Nithya Pandian)

Digital versus traditional

However, not all experts agree that traditional methods are fading.

Gayathri Lakshminarayanan, Principal Consultant at PlanPol, a political consulting firm, says parties still spend up to 60% of their budgets on traditional campaigns.

Digital campaigns, she says, have a short shelf life, whereas a mural leaves a lasting impression. “Our attention span is reduced to less than a minute, and social media campaigns, particularly on Instagram, have a limited impact on users. It was not the same for offline campaigns… Think about a mural that you see every day when you are on your way to the office and to home for nearly two to three months. It leaves an impact on people.”

Another consulting firm noted that campaigns are increasingly designed to target younger, digital-native voters, prompting higher spending on platforms like Instagram and YouTube. “Technology evolves, so we have to come up with different modes of campaigns to attract them,” the firm said.

What voters see

For some voters, digital platforms have already become the primary source of political information.

Geetha, 39, a Chennai resident, says she gets more information about elections and candidates from social media. “It gives you all the information that you need.”

Others recall learning politics through murals. M Nandakumar, 27, says they helped him identify leaders and party symbols growing up. “People would look at murals to memorise leaders’ names. At polling booths, we knew which symbol to press,” he says, comparing today’s banner culture to fast-changing Instagram trends.

An art form at a crossroads

Historians and artists emphasise that political murals are deeply tied to Tamil Nadu’s cultural history, interwoven with cinema and mass politics.

Marudu traces the tradition to early 20th-century artists like K Madhavan. In north Chennai, wall paintings thrived alongside film culture, with fans creating large murals for actors-turned-politicians like M G Ramachandran and Rajinikanth.

That tradition persists, but is under strain, caught between changing urban landscapes, shifting campaign strategies, and the rise of digital media.

For muralists like Parimalam and Vasudevan, the question is no longer just about fewer walls, but whether the age-old craft still has a place in the future of political campaigning.