When walls speak: The stories behind Penang's iconic murals

New Straits Times

2 days ago

IN the winding lanes of George Town, a bicycle mural painted by Lithuanian Ernest Zacharevic 13 years ago ignited a cultural movement that would reshape Penang's identity.
When Zacharevic created Children on a Bicycle behind an old shoplot in Lebuh Armenian in 2012 as part of the George Town Festival back then, it marked the start of a street art explosion — one that turned the city's alleyways and bare walls into vibrant storytelling canvases, where contemporary expression meets local heritage.
Today, these murals draw throngs of visitors and offer locals a renewed connection to their history.
Yet, the transformation wasn't without resistance. In the beginning, many locals viewed the murals with suspicion and hesitation.
"At first, many locals, including my neighbours, didn't like it," recalls Chew, a 65-year-old who runs a souvenir stall at Chew Jetty, adding that: "It became noisy and crowded. Strangers were standing outside our homes and taking photos. It was a big change."
For a city just listed as a United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation World Heritage Site in 2008, the sudden arrival of street art would definitely raise eyebrows.
Heritage purists feared that vibrant murals would overshadow the architectural soul of George Town, Penang's state capital where colonial facades stand shoulder to shoulder with kopitiams and clan houses.
The city, named after King George III (1738-1820) of the United Kingdom, was founded in 1786 by Captain Francis Light, who established it as a trading post for the British East India Company.
"Some feared that contemporary expressions could dilute the city's authenticity," remembers Chief Minister Chow Kon Yeow, continuing: "There were worries the murals might overshadow George Town's deeper historical significance."
Trevor Sibert, honorary treasurer of the Penang Heritage Trust (PHT), said the early resistance to street art was understandable.
"Every artwork should have meaning — a rationale that resonates with its location," he says, adding: "Not everything painted represents the true essence of George Town. Deep research must go into it. This isn't about censorship — it's about context."
TOURIST MAGNET
Yet, despite early scepticism, attitudes began to shift.
The once-controversial murals gradually emerged as one of the state's most powerful tourist draws and enduring cultural symbols.
Today, from bustling Lebuh Armenian to quieter back lanes in the city, there are more than 57 officially recognised murals — along with countless unofficial works — adorning the city's walls. Visitors can trace street art trails, snap photos and uncover local stories rendered in bold brushstrokes.
Children on a Bicycle, the most popular artwork, captures two youngsters in joyous motion: a laughing girl pedalling a real rusted bicycle fixed against a weathered wall, her younger brother clinging to her waist, wide-eyed with delight.
Not far away in Lebuh Ah Quee stands Boy on a Bike, a lanky teenager leaning against a motorbike, his half-smile hinting at adolescent swagger.
And in Lebuh Muntri, Little Girl in Blue stretches her arms across two window shutters, a haunting yet hopeful image of innocence reaching out through time and weathered wood.
Both murals, which blend playful, photorealistic figures with real-life objects, were also painted by Zacharevic, who made Penang his home base while travelling around the world for exhibitions and installations.
"I came for the food the first time," confides Hanna Fuzesi, a 25-year-old Canadian tourist. She continues enthusiastically: "But when I returned, it was for the murals. It's like walking through an outdoor gallery."
Her Australian travel companion, Amy Lansall, agrees, saying: "Some murals are hidden — like little treasures. They're not all over the place and this is what makes the experience personal."
The economic ripple effects are undeniable. Souvenir shops, cafes, trishaw riders and licensed tour guides have all integrated street art into their offerings. Mural maps, guided walks and themed souvenirs are now part of the travel experience.
Malaysian Association of Hotels (Penang chapter) chairman Tony Goh says hotels within the heritage zone are also using the murals to attract guests.
"Tourists enjoy it. The feedback is overwhelmingly positive," he shares, adding: "Street art has become part of Penang's identity. It's not just about pictures — it reflects the character of this city."
HERITAGE BALANCE
Still, authorities are mindful of the risks of "mural fatigue".
"There's always a risk that too much of a good thing can lose its meaning," says State Tourism and Creative Economy Committee chairman Wong Hon Wai. "These murals aren't just decorations. They tell stories — of trades, childhood, community and culture. That's what makes them special. Each piece should relate to our Outstanding Universal Value (OUV)."
To maintain that heritage balance, the state mandates mural proposals to go through the Integrated Local Council Solution (ILCS), reviewed by a public art review panel that includes George Town World Heritage Incorporated (GTWHI), the state agency responsible for managing, safeguarding and conserving the city's World Heritage Status.
"We want stronger storytelling and curation," says Wong, adding: "Otherwise, the murals become wallpaper."
Zacharevic, the man who started it all, remains modest about his role.
"Penang's street art is much bigger than me," he says, continuing: "There are so many artists — local and international — contributing to the scene. It's a collective effort."
His latest venture, a gallery space in George Town called Cultprint, is where he now explores new directions. He is currently preparing an exhibition on intellectual property rights — highlighting how artists should be protected in the age of viral content.
"Creativity should benefit not just the tourist economy, but the local art community, too," he says.
OF PAST AND PRESENT
For Penangites like Tan Hor Teong, a 45-year-old hawker operating near the heritage zone, the murals have become part of his daily life.
"At first, the older generation didn't understand. They wondered why were people so interested in wall paintings?" he recalls, adding: "But now we see how it brings business, how it shares our culture in a way that connects."
Even international visitors are impressed by the city's creative pulse. "In China, street art is too controlled," shares Deng Xiaobu, a 48-year-old tourist from Guangzhou.
"Here, it feels alive. It's not just art — it's an experience."
As Penang continues to position itself as both a creative capital and the "Silicon Valley of Asia" with its ever-growing number of high-tech companies based there, its murals remind the world that heritage can be both preserved and reimagined.
"In the end, Penang's greatest masterpiece may not be on a wall. It may be the delicate, ongoing dance between past and present, painted with care, and watched over by those who love this island best," says Sibert of the Penang Heritage Trust.
And Lithuanian Zacharevic agrees, as he reflects: "I never set out to make something iconic. I just wanted to create something meaningful — and a little bit magical.
"The fact that people still connect with it today means we did something right."