I’d like to introduce you to the little known curator of a rather unusual museum. Arm outstretched, hand gloved in white cotton, RJ stands pointing at a huge, pink, goofy-eyed graffiti monster scrawled on a concrete wall in the East End of London.

RJ runs guided tours around the East End, showing crowds the ever-shifting sprawl of urban art, illuminating torn posters and faded spray-can sketches with the names and stories of those responsible.

RJ’s museum is the city itself and his tours have lately gained noteriety: “I’ve only been involved with urban art for about a year and a half, but it’s become a passion that I spend way too much time on. Almost every Thursday I’m at one or more gallery openings, and on Saturdays I wander around looking for new work.”

‘It’s an extremely welcoming community. I recently spent a few days in New York City, and people who I only knew from their photography on flickr were touring me around and introducing me to artists and photographers.’

I ask RJ what he believes separates urban art from other forms of art. ‘In a purely academic sense, there really isn’t a difference. Most street artists resist that label and say that any work is just “art” once it is in a gallery.’

He continues: ‘On a more personal level, I think that any artist willing to give away their work for free and expose more people to art has a certain “x-factor” – that comes across in their artwork. Urban artists are painting for the love of it, and they are painting to give the public a chance to experience art without having to pay to wander confused around a museum.’

‘Swoon is a great example of this. She has exhibited at MoMA in New York, but she just can’t resist wheatpasting her work [pasting poster work on street furniture]. Right now, she’s in Slovenia building barely-float-able boats with about two dozen other artists, and they are going to sail them to Venice.”

On the flipside, I want to know how RJ distinguishes between vandalistic graffiti and genuine street art: ‘Some of it’s destructive. Almost all of it’s vandalism. That doesn’t mean it can’t also be art. I think a lot of graffiti writers are so good that they become accidental artists, and there are also plenty of street artists who are so bad that they become accidental graffiti writers. In the end it’s a personal call by the viewer.’

I ask RJ to tell us a bit more about the tour itself: ‘The tour changes a bit every time I do it. Even if I did the same route two days in a row, it would be different – work just changes so quickly. A few really impressive pieces that will definitely be included though are 2 works by Banksy, some wheatpastes by Shepard Fairey (the artist who made the Obama “HOPE” poster), a lot by the Burning Candy guys, and a large piece by Conor Harrington, pictured above. It usually lasts between 1.5 to 2 hours.’

I ask RJ what he believes to be the single most significant piece of street art in London: ‘Not including commissioned works like what was painted on the side of the Tate Modern last summer, I’d have to say a tiny piece by Barry McGee. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s surprisingly important. Back in the early 1990’s, McGee pretty much founded San Francisco’s street art scene.’

‘One evening after sunset, I was headed back home from an afternoon of looking at street art. Then I spotted quite an old piece I’d never seen before by Anthony Lister. Next to the Lister piece was one by McGee. It’s the only piece I’ve seen by McGee on the street, and perhaps even the only one left in the UK.’

Surprising me, RJ reveals the amazingly transitory nature of the work he has come to curate: ‘I’m told the McGee piece dates back to 2005. Unfortunately, I stopped by the other day, and the paint has really started to peel just in the last month.’

If the thought of missing out on these snapshots of city life chills you to the bone, drop RJ an email here and grab yourself a guided tour.