A film about camera-holder Thierry “Mr Brainwash” Guetta: “It was behind my wildest expectations.”
A film about Banksy – made by Banksy? My suspicion was soon kindled: a man who has carefully shielded his own identity from the public eye because his work speaks for itself; Banksy, who celebrates his right to perform Street Art – the perfect, uncensored medium, in his barely legal way, does not have a use for film to reach his audience to propagate his own material.
But the medium of film was useful now in another way, even if Banksy would only feature in the margin (with hoodie to darken his face), as narrator to the unfolding of a bizarre story. The story of ‘an accident’; a sort of fairy tale ‘gone wrong’. Because, it comes across like a bit of a foul joke when a good-natured, ForrestGump-ish-type character unwittingly does a scoop on the Street Art movement, leaving the genuine rebel artists at a bit of a loss for exactly had happened to their art form’s validity.
‘Exit through the gift shop’ is the story of how hapless Frenchman Thierry “Mr. Brainwash” Guetta, who started out as side-kick cameraman to the sharpest, edge-seeking international graffiti artists of our day, and ended up causing a sensation in the art world of L.A. by imitating their iconoclastic style. And Andy Warhol’s. And just about anybody’s, who had produced anything worthwhile in pop culture in the last 30 years.
Thierry Guetta underwent transformation. He laid down his camera (thank GOD!), dubbed himself Mr. Brainwash”, and went forth to seize the former CBS-studios as location for a bombastic art event – “Life is Beautiful” – at which he claimed international recognition. Things had gotten a little carried away. But, funnily enough, he didn’t mean anybody harm. After all, the guy believed he was only acting on assignment. Banksy had tentatively said, ‘he should try it’. But Thierry Guetta took that as an endorsing invitation, and seemed to think Banksy, Shepard Fairey and their peers had given him license to be an artist of the same rebel genre. Like the locksmith says to his son: “Son, one day you also will be a locksmith”.
The “ouevre” of Thierry Guetta was gargantuan. Hundreds of poster pop art paintings, installations and sculptures filled the endless halls. Well-willing assistants worked themselves into a stupor to realize the epic proportions of Guetta’s vision, a man who would sell millions’ worth of this “art”, and make an international name for himself, even landing an assignment designing Madonna’s latest cd cover (what makes her the authority on whats art?). The posse pushed their caps back and scratched their heads, wondering what had happened to the funny guy who had been following them around the last few years with a camera. Nobody could put their finger on what was the matter with this man’s success. So, they made a film about it, as if to ask us, the public, what we may think?
Well, I came out of the Theatre (‘Filmhuis Lumen’, Delft, Netherlands) feeling a little seasick after having been exposed to Guetta’s reeling footage, but quite arrested by the question at hand:
Why was he not really an artist?? Why could his success with the public not be celebrated by Banksy and his peers?
Well, my version of what ‘went wrong’ is this: Guetta showed genuine faith and loyalty to the art form. He understood and could appreciate the work they did. In his own simple way. He could see it; and when he started making it, he could emulate it, but he was not capable of producing anything original. It was the height of mimicry; he was posing as an artist, mistaking emulation for the goal.
The man had no sense of the concept of intellectual property, at all.
Who could have known that with a little push like that the man would leap so far? He had complete faith in their blessing; thought he was doing what they had destined him to do. It was a simple formula; a calling. And by discharging an enormous amount of material into circulation MBW exhausted the possible repertoire of the iconoclastic protagonist in one foul siege. Or at very least, defined fake art. ‘Exit through the gift shop’ is like a modern version of fairy tale “The Emperor’s New Clothes”.
Mention I must, that without his association to true artists like Banksy, OBEY and Invader, the man would still be Mr. Nobody.
It is in a sense perhaps even a blessing for Banksy and his posse: they can now accelerate into new fields, leaving MBW to run the media hype, and distract the ‘easily impressed’. This incident may narrow down Banksy’s followers to those who defy hype-boundaries and have true appreciation of an ever-rising rebellion against the mediocrity of mainstream social indulgence. I think that Guetta never suspected what the genuine motivation is for any of the artists that he knew by name, by profession, and whom he followed around. The sharp social observer that Banksy is, and the talent he has to put his interpretation of distinct social and political relationships into an available art form, will be the focus of any free-thinker, anarchist, and true believer. And it is free of charge. (Thank you!!) The mass-art consumer will go to Thierry Guetta, and that is fine.
Carry on, Banksy, you are the genuine article, and are also my voice in the streets.
ACN
The following is the opinion of “KIDPEN” Posted On: Thursday, Jun. 19 2008 @ 11:01AM – placed on the forum of the LA weekly Blog. Sorry, that I do not have your permission to reprint your opinion here, Kidpen. If you find yourself, please contact me. I think your opinion is spot on, and I take the liberty of sharing it on my space. Thanks.
Kidpen says:
Banal, boring, self indulgent, sensationalist “art” for the lazy, hipster masses. “Lets keep everyone in line for 2 hours for no good reason so that this show looks like it’s really important and relevant….”
On the street Mr Brainwashes graf’ is fleetingly diverting and mildly entertaining, in this space it’s overblown and dull. We’re told it’s “the bomb right now” so here everyone goes. We just love waiting in line in Hollywood for everyone to see, don’t we hipster masses ? – makes us feel like we’re important and that we’re not really sucking the cock of ‘The Man’ but really, we’re not and we are.
This show says nothing new about the frankly scary consumerist culture we are living through. The work is shallow, forgettable and lazy. Wake up people!
When are you gonna take off your fake wayfarers, wipe the sleep from your eyes and see that this isn’t good art. It’s pointless and insulting. One trick pony stuff that’s meant to speak to us about the culture we live in. There’s more important art in to be found in Ralphs and no watered-down Vodka.
But go and see it. You can whizz round it in 5 minutes, see everything, feel all cultured and sh*t then go down the road to Amoeba and listen to the real thing. David Bowie IS art – don’t accept a badly painted picture of Aladdin Sane. We should be wanting MORE out of our privileged artists and not accepting this vapid rubbish.
THANKS, Kidpen.
ACN
