The Traffic Light Rebellion: Urban Performances That Hack Traffic

Origins

It all started in the second semester of 2019, when a group of students from the Faculty of Arts at the University of Antioquia decided they were fed up with public space in Medellín being a backdrop for consumption, not for life. They called themselves "Colectivo Escena Vial" and their first action was as simple as it was disturbing: at the intersection of Avenida Junín and Calle 49, in the heart of el centro, two people stood completely still during a traffic light change. They didn't cross, didn't look at their phones, didn't speak. They just stood there, staring ahead, while cars honked and pedestrians dodged them as if they were living obstacles.

That first intervention lasted only three minutes, but it created chaos that lasted twenty. The police arrived, drivers insulted them, and some passersby stopped to record. For the collective, it was exactly what they were after: to make people wonder why a red light is an unquestionable order, but a still person is a problem. "We're not protesting against traffic," one of the founders, who prefers to remain anonymous, told me, "we're protesting against the idea that the street is only for moving fast."

The term "traffic light rebellion" was coined by a journalist from El Colombiano who covered the collective's second action in December 2019, at the Glorieta de la 70 with San Juan. That time there were fifteen people, all dressed in black, who positioned themselves on the four sides of the roundabout and, when the light turned red, began to perform slow, choreographed movements, as if they were puppets in an invisible theater. People got out of their cars to watch. Some applauded. Others called the police. But no one was left indifferent.

Timeline or Historical Milestones

Since that first hacked traffic light in 2019, the interventions have evolved and multiplied. Here are the key moments:

• September 2019: First intervention by Escena Vial at Junín and Calle 49. Duration: 3 minutes. Participants: 2. Result: 1 citation for "obstruction of public thoroughfare."
• December 2019: "The Choreography of La 70." 15 participants. A video goes viral on Twitter with 80,000 views. The Mayor's Office of Medellín issues a statement condemning "acts that endanger road safety."
• March 2020: Pandemic. The collective retreats to virtual interventions but keeps the idea alive with "pedestrian performance" tutorials on Instagram.
• October 2021: Post-pandemic reappearance. At Parque de los Deseos, during the Book Festival, a group of 30 people performs a "slow march" lasting 45 minutes. Local press calls them "traffic zombies."
• February 2022: "Semáforos Alternativos" is born, a splinter collective focusing on nighttime interventions in the Zona Rosa of El Poblado. Their first action on Calle 10 with Avenida Las Palmas causes a 2-kilometer traffic jam.
• August 2023: The most massive intervention to date: 120 people choreographically block Avenida Oriental for 10 minutes. The video reaches 2 million views on TikTok. The Mayor's Office announces it will criminally prosecute the organizers.
• November 2024: "Performance without permission" at the intersection of Avenida El Poblado and Calle 10. For the first time, local merchants actively join in, offering water and signs to participants.
• April 2026: The movement has fragmented into at least 5 different collectives. There is no longer a single leader, but a diffuse network of artists, activists, and curious people coordinating actions through Telegram channels and signals in public space (like a red ribbon tied to a pole).

Spectator's Manual: How to Recognize an Authentic Performance vs. Simple Traffic Chaos

Not every traffic jam in Medellín is art. You need to know how to distinguish a planned intervention from a simple gridlock caused by a badly parked driver or a broken traffic light. Here are the keys that the collectives themselves have shared in their anonymous tutorials:

Signs of an Authentic Performance

• Silence: Participants don't shout, don't speak, don't use whistles or loudspeakers. The performance is based on movement and stillness, not noise.
• Synchronization: Although it may seem chaotic, there is a pattern. Movements repeat in cycles. If you see several people making the exact same gesture at the same time, it's choreography.
• Costume: It's not uniform, but it has coherence. It could be all black, all white, or colors that contrast with the surroundings (e.g., neon yellow in a gray intersection).
• Duration: Performances last between 3 and 10 minutes. Never more than 15. If the "traffic jam" lasts longer, it's probably an accident or a real traffic problem.
• Public reaction: In a performance, pedestrians usually stop to watch or record. Drivers, although annoyed, rarely get out of their cars to confront. If you see people smiling or applauding from the sidewalks, it's art.

Signs of Simple Traffic Chaos

• Shouts and insults: If someone is honking desperately or arguing with another driver, it's not a performance.
• Badly parked vehicles: A car blocking the way is not an artistic statement; it's a bad driver.
• Broken traffic light: If the lights are flashing yellow or are off, it's a technical problem, not an intervention.
• Presence of traffic police: Performances usually happen without authorization, so the police arrive after, not before. If you see officers directing traffic from the start, it's not art.

The Accomplices: Merchants and Bystanders Who Join the Secret

One of the most fascinating aspects of this movement is how it has gained complicity in unexpected sectors. In el centro, for example, the vendors at Plazoleta de San Ignacio have learned to recognize the signals. "When I see someone with a red ribbon on their wrist, I know there's a performance today," Doña María, who sells empanadas at the corner of Calle 44 and Carrera 52, told me. "Sometimes I save their spot. They warn me on WhatsApp, and I have their hot empanada ready when they finish."

In El Poblado, the complicity is more subtle. Some bars on Calle 10 have started offering discounts to those who arrive with "proof of participation" in a traffic intervention (a photo, a video, a witness). "It's not that we're in favor of disorder," the manager of a bar who prefers not to give his name told me, "but these kids are giving the street back to the people. Everything here is so commercial that you forget the city can be a stage."

Passersby have also become part of the game. During the August 2023 intervention on Avenida Oriental, several pedestrians who were passing by spontaneously joined the performance. "I was on my way to work, I saw the people standing still and understood it was something," an office worker recounted in a TikTok video. "I stood next to them and stayed still for 5 minutes. I was late for the office, but it was worth it."

There are even reports of drivers who, upon recognizing a performance, turn off their engines and get out to watch. "I once saw a taxi driver get out, sit on the hood, and start applauding," recalls a member of Semáforos Alternativos. "That's what we're looking for: for people to stop being passengers in their own city."

Legacy: How It Changed the Perception of Public Space

Five years after that first action on Junín, the impact of the traffic light rebellion goes beyond viral videos and citations. It has changed, albeit subtly, the way Medellín residents look at their city.

For starters, it has generated a public debate about who has the right to use the street. "Before, you thought the street belonged to cars," says urban architect Carlos Jaramillo, who has studied the phenomenon. "These performances have forced people to ask why a red light is an order, but a standing person is a problem. They have politicized public space in a very creative way."

Furthermore, they have inspired other collectives. Today in Medellín there are at least a dozen groups that use public space for unauthorized artistic interventions: from "street libraries" at bus stops to "silent concerts" on pedestrian bridges. The traffic light rebellion was the spark that lit a larger fuse.

The authorities, for their part, have had to adapt. In 2024, the Secretary of Culture of Medellín launched a pilot program called "Arte en la Vía" (Art on the Road), which seeks to channel these interventions into regulated spaces and times. So far, the response from the collectives has been mixed: some participate, others see it as a way to domesticate protest. "Street art cannot ask for permission," an activist told me. "If it does, it ceases to be street art."

In April 2026, the movement is still alive, though more fragmented and less media-driven. It's no longer front-page news that a group of people stands still at a traffic light. But for those who know how to look, the city is full of small daily performances: the street vendor who dances while waiting for the light to change, the security guard who greets cars with a choreography of arms, the pedestrian who decides, for no apparent reason, to wait for the next green light even though the light is red.

That is, perhaps, the deepest legacy: the idea that the street is not just a conduit, but a stage. And that anyone, at any moment, can become a performer.

Next time traffic stops, look closely: it might be live art.

Key Figures or Events

The movement that emerged in Medellín is not only marked by the spontaneity of the students from the Faculty of Arts at the University of Antioquia, but also by several figures and events that have influenced the narrative of the traffic light rebellion. Here are some of the key figures and events that have left their mark on this innovative urban performance.

The Students from the Faculty of Arts

A diverse group of students who, with their creativity and frustration at the rigidity of traffic, decided to take action. Most of them come from different artistic disciplines, which allowed them to contribute a variety of perspectives and skills to the urban interventions.

The Intervention on Avenida El Poblado

A key event took place on this well-known avenue, where the students transformed a traffic light into a space for artistic expression. This not only caught the attention of passersby but also generated a dialogue about mobility and public space in Medellín.

The Influence of Local Artists

Artists like Gonzalo Saldarriaga and Juan David Castaño have been fundamental in inspiring these actions. Their works, which address the relationship between art and urban space, have resonated with the ideals of the movement.

The Urban Art Movement in Medellín

This movement has grown in response to the need to reclaim public space. Since 2019, multiple events have been held that integrate artistic performances with social critique, showing how art can be a tool for change.

The traffic light rebellion is not just a local phenomenon; it has inspired other cities in Colombia and Latin America to rethink their urban spaces and mobility within them.

Current Status

Since its emergence in 2019, the urban performances that hack traffic in Medellín have evolved significantly. The initiative, driven by students from the Faculty of Arts at the University of Antioquia, has inspired other collectives and citizens to participate in this form of urban art, transforming intersections into spaces for social and cultural expression. Currently, Medellín has a variety of projects that seek not only to alter vehicular flow but also to raise awareness about mobility and public space.

The artistic community has managed to capture the attention of local authorities, who have begun to recognize the potential of these interventions to enrich urban life. However, resistance from some sectors, especially those concerned with order and safety, continues to be a challenge. As these performances become more visible, new opportunities for collaboration between artists, activists, and public administration also arise.

It is worth mentioning that in the current context, the pandemic has modified the dynamics of traffic and the use of public space. This has led to a deeper reflection on mobility in the city and how artistic interventions can contribute to a reimagined urban environment. As a result, meetings and forums have begun to be held where ideas for the future of these performances are discussed, seeking a balance between art, mobility, and safety.

The following spaces have been key in the evolution of this traffic light rebellion:

Parque de los Deseos

An emblematic place for cultural events in Medellín. Here, performances are not limited to traffic but include outdoor cinema and concerts. Insider Tip: Visit the park on movie nights, where the atmosphere is filled with energy and creativity, perfect for witnessing spontaneous interventions.

La 70

This avenue is a hotspot for artistic manifestations. Known for its vibrant nightlife, it has been the stage for various performances that attract a diverse audience. Insider Tip: Don't miss the weekend activities, when local artists perform interventions that combine music and visual art, creating a unique spectacle.