Happy Mother’s Day. Who could be more proud than the mother of a child who grows up with an appreciation for art, color, and design, and who feels free to express every heartfelt thought and emotion that pops up? And if that artful expression of one’s deepest beliefs (or random whims) should happen to garner worldwide attention? What a marvelous mother’s day present indeed. To all the mothers of street artists out there, here’s to you.
On my top ten list of street art disaster films, one new release stands hood and shoulders above the rest: Banksy’s new movie, Exit through the Gift Shop. The line on opening night at the Mayan was packed with young hipsters, but this was not the anarchy crowd. Corporate logos and icons of admired designers abounded: this was a group that had respect for marketing and consumerism— as long as it was cool.
I realized this may be the future generation of art buyers. They waited obediently in the line as the theater geek announced that the 8:00 show was now sold out, will-call tickets only. I overheard twenty-somethings mentioning that they had limited edition Banksy prints hanging on their walls at home. People compared iPhones showing the work of theiir favorite new artists. They said street art was selling for tens of thousands of dollars at Sotheby’s. I learned that people were removing whole sections of historic buildings in order to preserve what was once called vandalism and painted over as quickly as the authorities could get to it.
To my eye Banksy’s work was exceptional from first glance. And it goes deeper than my fondness for rats, although I must disclose that his stenciled urban vermin first caught my eye and still make me laugh. The images worked for me and I didn’t delve much deeper, but in the opening night pre-and post-film conversation I had the opportunity to consider the modern art genre that has irrevocably grown from teenage punks and their crates of spray paint.
The fleeting nature of traditional street art, back before people took diamond blades and cut out brick facades to preserve these works in private collections, begs comparisons to Tibetan sand painting. That comparison, however, and other such feats of art school snobbery are not the aim of Banksy’s film. Instead, he reveals the odd personalities and fascinating techniques behind what is still largely a covert, illegal form of expression. Inevitably, ego and greed— peppered with a little light-hearted insanity— take the stage and thus begins a delightful story arc. Whether you think street art is vandalism or the transcendent voice of a new generation (or something in between), Exit through the Gift Shop is simply a great story and a fun ride.
It’s only showing in select cities, so if it’s not in yours, tell your local authorities you would like to see it. An excellent place to make your request would be that big blank wall on the side of the abandoned warehouse downtown. Cheers,
Photos by Arrested Motion and markhillary