Rev. Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping

From an article in the New York Times, I've just learned about performance artist and activist Bill Talen, who goes by the name Reverend Billy. Dressed for the part and sounding just like a gospel preacher, Talen is often backed by a rousing gospel choir as he preaches against the evils of corporate commercialism and rampant consumerism. They go at their subject with passion and with humor.

The "Church of Stop Shopping" is "a radical performance community" based in New York City. Their website describes it this way: 'We are a post religious church. We hold “services” wherever we can, in concert halls, theaters, churches, community centers, forests, fields, parking lots, mall atriums, and perhaps most importantly, inside stores, as close to the cash register as we can get, within spitting distance of the point of purchase."

 

"We sing, we dance, we preach, sometimes we perform small “interventions”, invisible plays, acts of ritual resistance. We exorcise cash registers and remythologize the retail environment, we illuminate the Devil. We make media and send it out around the world. We get hassled by security guards and sometimes get arrested."

Although the Christmas season is a particularly important time for Rev. Billy, as you might well imagine, his message is timeless and universal, serious as well as tongue in cheek. I particularly enjoyed his short spiel on global warming, called The Invitation.   

You can view a number of the "Church's" videos on their website.

What do Abramovic and Banksy have in common?

One of the artists is famously present, the other famously absent.

In some respects they make an unlikely pair and the coverage in national media this week of their respective activities is a coincidence—isn’t it? 

The Artist is Present, MoMA

Marina Abramovic became famous by staging ephemeral and often controversial performances—some of which involved self-mutilation. Now she has leveraged her fame to build a physical institution, a monument devoted to performance art. Some are crying foul; others can’t wait for the 33,000 square foot Marina Abramovic Institute to open in Hudson, NY, so that they can pay to “put on white lab coats and undergo three hours of mind-and-body cleansing exercises.” That is according an article that appeared in last Sunday’s New York Times.

The article quotes Abramovic as saying “Ego is a huge obstacle to art.” It seems a curious if not contradictory turn of phrase under the circumstances.

Banksy has become famous—some say notorious—by painting and stenciling his distinctive brand of graffiti in unauthorized locations all over the world. I use the term “brand” deliberately. While his work has become commercially valuable, his identity remains elusive. Currently Banksy is spending a month operating, publicly if not visibly, in New York City. He himself (on a website) refers to it as an “artist’s residency.”

But now “banksy” has become a verb, his graffiti sought after and reviled in nearly equal measures, and some of the anonymous artist’s works have sold for six figure sums at auction.

NPR aired an interview yesterday with a Brooklyn resident whose building was “banksied.” The family has struggled with ethical as well as financial consequences. The graffiti first drew a large and appreciative crowd. Then someone spray-painted over the stencils, which the family cleaned off promptly and successfully. After that they installed a garage door over the illicit, but potentially lucrative art that had been dropped in their laps. What’s a victim to do these days?

An appreciative crowd gathers at a "Banksied" site in Chelsea

Cash in is one of the options that the beneficiaries of Banksies artistic attentions have chosen. But what happens to street art after it has been commodified? Banksy himself addresses this issue in ambiguous ways. A story aired on NPR Oct. 14 quotes him as saying, "I know street art can feel increasingly like the marketing wing of an art career, so I wanted to make some art without the price tag attached. There's no gallery show or book or film. It's pointless. Which hopefully means something."

And was it a snub of the commercial art establishment—even the very people who purchased one of his limited edition prints for $249,000—when he (anonymously, of course) set up a sidewalk kiosk in Central Park with prints priced at $60 each. The artist’s total take for the one day sale was $420. Who got taken, I wonder?

Maybe Abramovic and Banksy have more in common than it seems at first glance. Why shouldn’t they take advantage of opportunities to leverage popularity or notoriety for financial gain? Or do they, each in their own fashion, seem to want it both ways? If ego is in fact an obstacle to art, it certainly isn’t an obstacle to commercial success.

Can either performance art or street art survive commodification? Many critics are asking. The answer is elusive.

Links:

NY Times – Abramovic: For her next piece, a performance artist will build an institute.

NPR – Banksy: Getting ‘Banksied’ comes with a price – and maybe a paycheck

Nudes at MoMA: Why are we Surprised?

There has been a flurry of articles recently about the scandalous behavior of a few patrons of the Museum of Modern Art. (Sample: NY Times) It seems that some, even members of the museum, forget the near universal protocols about not touching the art. The art work in this instance is two live nude “performers.” Their performance is to stand still while patrons walk between them to enter the museum. And, occasionally, they get touched. (The FOX news headline uses the word “groped.”)

Of course this kind of thing makes good copy, but is it really any surprise? In fact, I suspect that the artist must expect this kind of transgression and that one reason for doing an art performance with live nudes is to provoke the audience. Much of Marina Abramović’s art, which has involved, among other things, self-mutilation, is much more provocative than this. In fact, I think it is ironic that, in the context of Abramović’s oeuvre, human nudes in a public space are pretty subtle and sedate.

My own personal reaction, I suppose, should be to feel cheated. I was in New York recently. I went to MoMA and I saw Abramović herself in the atrium gallery (picture below) performing her headline piece: “The Artist is Present.” But I did not see, nor know about, the two nude performers. I haven’t seen a single mention in any of the articles about this “scandalous” situation that the nudes are not situated at either of the main entrances and that most patrons can and do enter, as I did, without encountering them.

I did enjoy seeing “The Artist is Present.” I was clearly not alone in my reaction, for the performance space, delineated with tape, was constantly surrounded several ranks deep. More people watched from the various balconies and windows above. What we all watched was the artist sitting on a chair at a table. Like the nudes, she didn’t move. Unlike the nudes, this piece has an interactive component. When the chair opposite Abramović is unoccupied, the audience is invited to enter the space and sit there. Abramović does not react to this regular occurrence in any way. While I watched, the chair was never unoccupied for more than a few moments. Crowd pleasing minimalistic performance art. An interesting concept, no?

As for the nudes, when will our society get over its Puritan aversion to the human body? And what a hypocritical culture! Simple standing nudes are considered outrageous, while the overt sexual content that comes into our homes on TV is acceptable.

For more on “The Artist is Present” go to MoMA.