This blog post is straight from left field.
While organizing my computer, I stumbled across this essay I wrote seven years ago in a college writing class. Though a little painful to read (I was 18 guys), I think it presents an interesting point of view on authenticity, and the dilemma of success in the arts. Though it's all over the place organizationally, I hope you enjoy.
With my seven-years-removed editor eyes, I realize my essay never differentiates "Street Art" from "Graffiti." I'll do that now:
Street art is visual art created in public locations for public visibility. Street art is often intended to provoke thought and make a statement, while graffiti is often seen as a form of rebellion, vandalism, or gang-associated. Graffiti is mostly word-based and includes "tagging," while street art elicits a feeling in the viewer; awe, laughter, concern, sadness...
In recent years, street art has made the jump from Rebellious Underground Movement to Big Money Business. Street art that was once painted over is now auctioned alongside Rembrandts and displayed in Fine Art galleries. Art collectors now hash out hundreds of thousands of dollars for a piece the artist likely made while dodging the cops in the dark.
Street art at its core is about expression, humor, and often rebellion. To a person like Banksy, an artist who uses his platform to make a passerby re-think an often unexamined part of society, street art is about reclaiming public space for what it was meant for– the public. He expresses in his (disguised) interviews and mysterious email correspondences, that street art is the opposite of advertising. Ads posted in public spaces are created by businesses to earn money. Street art is done by nameless individuals who'll certainly never gain money from their work, and might even be arrested.
Street art is about giving power to the individual voice. “When you walk down the street and see something in a crazy spot, there's something powerful about that,” street artist Shepard Fairey says. “I make work that may or may not inspire someone to reconsider their position on something. But if I don’t put it out there in public it has less likelihood that it will make a difference. The act of stumbling upon an illegal piece of art, from the experience to the execution, has a different effect than that same image on the internet or in a gallery. Public art impacts people quite profoundly.” (Shepard Fairey).
Street art is the most bare-bones, vagabond method of getting an audience, and can spark anything from debate to fits of laughs. It takes the form of wheat-paste posters, spray paint, or even legos and knitting installations. It’s about putting something outrageous in broad daylight for everyone to see, and “whether or not you agree with the motif of the art piece, it is guaranteed to get an audience. The beauty of the piece attracts the audience, and the purpose of the piece attracts a conversation,” (Shepard Fairey).
Regarding the illegality of street art, Banksy says “People look at an oil painting and admire the use of brushstrokes to convey meaning. People look at a graffiti painting and admire the use of a drainpipe to gain access.” The response to other crimes is disgust and distaste, but the universal response to a really good piece of street art is Dang, how did they get up there, or Hmm, I wonder what that means. The response to the art itself is almost always positive across the board. But opinions change when you monetize it.
Legends like Keith Haring have gained immense success from their street art, reaching a popularity thought only possible for pop musicians and politicians. Banksy was recently listed as one of the “top 100 most influential people” by TIME magazine. Robert Downey Jr decorated his home with street art pieces. Annie Preece, a street artist in LA recently started appearing in reality TV programs. There is no doubt that the underground movement of spray painting walls has been swept up in the mainstream and capitalized on by businesses, or the artists themselves.
But no street artist’s career can compare to Shepard Fairey's, who grew his recognizable graffiti paintings and garage projects into the brand OBEY. Shepard Fairey started as a middle- class kid from South Carolina who liked to skate and doodle. He went to RISD where he learned to make real pieces, and then started making street art. After a skate session, he was hanging out with a friend in his garage and decided to teach him how to screen-print. Racking his studio for easy designs to teach his friend, he found an Andre the Giant ad. He made thousands of stickers from the ad, spread them throughout the city, and started his brand. He made political wheat- paste posters, spray painted hard to reach walls, and began to gain respect within the street art world. He now sells the designs that once graced street walls on T-shirts and hoodies. He arrived where he is through hard work, literally starting from the streets. Shepard Fairey gained respect using his art to spread a message and has made money in the process. To some, he's an inspiration; to others, a sellout.
Jeff Koons is a controversial modern artist who rose to fame through his reflective balloon sculptures of pop culture icons. He’s been criticized of being a manager rather than an artist, stealing ideas, and living a lavish lifestyle while his team of 130 employees carries out his next project. His work relies heavily on pre-existing pieces of art, leading many to call him lazy and unoriginal– a trait that was exemplified perfectly in his new collaboration with Louis Vuitton where Jeff Koons had his team print copies of Van Gogh and Leonardo paintings on purses. His work resides squarely in the commercial fine art world, being auctioned for hundreds of thousands of dollars regularly.
Some play with this commercial culture. In a Banksy Youtube video, he made a series of pieces, framed them, then hired an actor to sell them on the streets of New York under an unknown name. They barely sold. Each print was priced around 90 dollars and almost no one purchased. As soon as Banksy posted the video, they were re-sold for thousands.
This is a confusing concept; price being dictated by the fame of the previous owner, or creator. The Banksy video represents the world of fine art and street art crashing together in a controversial mess. Fine art is as an investment opportunity, and street art is a crime.
One would think art sprayed on walls behind cops' backs wouldn’t become a path to riches and fame. But this commercialization of street art is infiltrating what street art purists would rather keep the same, much like what I call the "Country-Singer Effect." When a country singer first starts their career singing about tractors and country roads, it’s authentic and true to their experience. But as soon as they hit the mainstream and start earning real money, they’re singing about dirt roads from the Hollywood Hills. It’s ironic. Every artist aspires to success, but as soon as they reach it, the quality that made them successful is no longer valid.
While the hipsters and critics complain their favorite musicians have changed, and an artist is now part of the system they once criticized, the musicians keep strumming, and the artists keep painting. Anyone who's created something knows the risk associated with putting it out in the world. The act of creation displays your soul on a pedestal for people to applaud, or mock. The act of creating art is the act of being exposed.
I say whether you’re a Jeff Koons or a Shepard Fairey, you're still creating and sharing something of yourself. Whether you're re-mixing old masters, or building a brand from the ground up, you’re putting something out into the world and following your creative voice.
If someone can ethically turn their passion into a career, they deserve a round of applause– not a hoard of purists debating whether or not they’re a sellout. The world has enough commentators and judges. If someone risks criticism by creating, only to get criticized more for paying the rent, then we are all hypocrites. If someone uses the system they’re part of to make ends meet, good. Calm down, breathe a little, and create something yourself.
A note from present-day Audrey:
My opinions on inauthentic art have changed since the advent of AI. Though I've always valued concept, process has become just as important to me. The cognitive, creative, and emotional benefits of creating with your hands is tremendous. The cognitive, creative, and emotional consequences of outsourcing that joy is also tremendous. I fear sacrificing my joy on the altar of ease.
Maybe the fact that you can sit in front of a laptop and receive a computer's conglomerate of other artists' work is art in and of itself. Maybe the fact that people still choose to create with their hands in spite of an easier way is art in and of itself. Like every other artist out there, I'm not even sure what art is, but I sure love it and will keep making it as long as I can.
Citations:
“Conor Harrington.” 9 Artworks, Bio & Shows on Artsy, www.artsy.net/artist/conor-harrington.
“Banksy.” Google Books, books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=xO5P_sUcGZMC&oi=fnd&pg=PT2&dq=banksy&ots=s-JBNKohmF&sig=JwOd8Y4CHDEe_FfSkHLqLuUDP28#v=onepage&q&f=false.
TimeMagazine. “10 Questions for Jeff Koons.” YouTube, YouTube, 29 Nov. 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBkRALSJUvw.
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