What’s the point of ‘unmasking’ Banksy?
In 2001, I was working in a nearby design studio when street artist Banksy’s satirical stencil works appeared on London walls and railway overpasses for nearly a year. While talking to a colleague about Banksy’s latest work, he told me that the artist was selling his patterns on paper and canvas. This coworker said to me, “If you want to meet her, I actually know her.”
It’s obvious that Banksy is not yet the phenomenon he would become, but I had little interest in meeting him. I liked his work, but I wasn’t that worried about the person himself. Wasn’t it his anonymity that added extra excitement to his work? Moreover, he was not the first anonymous graffiti artist.
Of course, we now know that Banksy’s anonymity would become part of his “brand,” which is why his works create such a stir when they appear overnight in a public building or political hotspot.
As his works became bolder and more subversive, and as fans and collectors of his work became more high-profile, interest in who the real Banksy was grew and naturally British tabloids attempted to “unmask” him many times over the years.
There was much speculation; Was real Banksy musician Robert de Naja, founder of Bristol trip-hop collective Massive Attack, already known as a graffiti artist? Jamie Hewlett co-founder of “virtual” rock band Gorillaz? Hilariously, even Neil Buchanan, presenter of British children’s arts TV show Art Attack It was “suspicious”. There is also the theory that Banksy is actually a collective artist rather than a single artist.
Now a lengthy Reuters investigation published a breathtaking statement that over the course of months (and likely at great cost) the elusive artist… had “revealed” to be exactly who Banksy was long thought to be: a Bristol man formerly known as Robin Gunningham has reportedly changed his name to David Jones, one of the UK’s most common nicknames, to preserve his anonymity.
He was most likely friends or collaborators with de Naja, Reuters found. Their evidence is based on a trip the artist took to Ukraine in 2022, photographs of former colleagues, and written confessions and arrest documents from 2000.
Banksy’s lawyers responded to Reuters with a rather vague statement that the artist “does not accept that many of the details included in your investigation are accurate,” adding that the artist kept his identity secret for a variety of reasons, including his personal safety and the fact that anonymity “protects freedom of expression by allowing creators to speak truth to power without fear of retaliation, censorship or persecution, especially when addressing sensitive issues such as politics, religion or social justice.”
What have we gained from this, other than the fact that this months-long investigation seems like a colossal waste of Reuters’ resources? A 20-year-old photo is proof that Banksy was once arrested, confessed, and paid the fine (horror!), and proof that David Jones and a guy named De Naja were in Ukraine at the time Banksy’s seven murals were revealed. (Only the visit to Ukraine is definitively “new” evidence.)
What’s the point of “unmasking” Banksy if such a thing will increase the value of a property, let alone homeowners whose walls were vandalized the day before?
To promote his Oscar-nominated film in 2010 Exit the Gift ShopAfter much nonsense, I arranged an interview with Banksy. It took some discussion, but Banksy—whoever he was—agreed to answer my questions via email. Of course it could have been anyone, but my contact assured me it was the real deal.
Banksy talked about the documentary he directed, which tells the story of Thierry Guetta, an amateur filmmaker and wannabe street artist who tries to befriend Banksy and other street artists, but the script is flipped and the film becomes about Guetta himself. Like most of Banksy’s work, the film came across as a giant joke, but the artist argued that it was a genuine documentary following Guetta’s rise as a street artist named Mr. Brainwash.
“If I had written this myself, it would have been a car chase and lasers,” Banksy told me. “Making the film wasn’t a conscious attempt to expand my CV; I just had a story I wanted to tell. There’s no danger of a sequel or a clothing line,” he said. “I’d like to say I’m politically motivated, but the truth is I’m too lazy for capitalism. If Banksy has become a brand, then it’s a brand that doesn’t believe in itself.”
Discussing anonymity, he admitted: “There’s probably a contradiction in hiding your face while blowing your mouth off. My job involves breaking the law quite a bit, so I don’t have much of a choice.”
In the email exchange, I asked how we could be sure we were talking to the real Banksy.
“Is this the real Banksy? It depends. If the interview makes me look attractive and smart, that’s me,” he joked. “If I sound like a fool, I’ll say he’s a fraud.”
Banksy wasn’t the first artist to create work anonymously; Since the 1980s, messages of unknown origin known as Toynbee Tiles have been seen embedded in the streets of major cities around the world; avant-garde music and art collective The Residents were involved in the ’70s; Daft Punk famously hid behind their helmets for years, and even local band TISM kept their identities secret for decades.
But ironically, Banksy is arguably the most famous.
Except perhaps for the Italian author who has been publishing under the pseudonym Elena Ferrante for decades. After gaining worldwide fame and selling tens of millions of books, an Italian journalist revealed the author’s real name and there was an outcry. The journalist who “unmasked” him was accused of revealing personal information, and there was a widespread outcry; many people called this action a violation of her privacy.
So why is this needed? [unmask] Banksy? Knowing his name neither increases nor diminishes the enjoyment of his art.
So why did you feel the need to do the same to Banksy? Knowing his name neither increases nor diminishes the enjoyment of his art. And in uncertain times, as the world certainly is right now, anonymous artistic interventions should be seen as a kind of gift.
Even the authors seem to agree, according to the last paragraph of Reuters’ 8,000-word investigation, quoting an art dealer who was present at a 2018 Sotheby’s auction of Banksy’s. Girl with BalloonThe artist had secretly placed a device inside that destroyed the work in front of stunned auctioneers and bidders.
Robert Casterline took out his phone to take a photo but someone blocked his view, he told Reuters, “an eccentric-looking man with a wide neck scarf and thick glasses.” The man wasn’t watching the artwork fall apart, but instead was watching the crowd’s reaction. Casterline told Reuters that when she later looked at photos of herself from that night, she noticed there was a small camera inside the glasses.
Banksy later posted a video of the demonstration that appeared to have been taken from where the man was standing.
Casterline told Reuters he was sure it was the man identified as Robin Gunningham in a photo taken in 2004, but he kept his own photos from that night private, telling Reuters: “I don’t want to be the guy who exposes Banksy.”
As Banksy himself (or he, or they) told me in 2010: “Ever since I was a little kid I wanted the power to be invisible, apparently I have it now so why would I give it up?”
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