Giving It Away for Free

The graffiti artist Banksy has built his career on the allure of anonymity. Tagging various cities around the world with his sardonic visual remarks on society (the Queen Mum as a lesbian, a trompe l'oeil peephole view of an island paradise on the wall separating Israel from Palestine, a blowup doll dressed like a Guantanamo prisoner stealthily placed along the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad ride at Disneyland) under the guise of night or by sheer stealth, he has amassed a cult following that wants what it can't have -- to know who he is and where he'll strike next).

Banksy's choice to work incognito has been one of the more brilliant marketing tools the art world has witnessed. Sotheby's specialist Ralph Taylor told the New Yorker's Lauren Collins that he is the "quickest-growing artist anyone has ever seen of all time." Christina Aguilera and Brad Pitt have forked over large sums for Banksy's work. In April 2007, the artist's Space Girl and Bird brought $576,000 at Bonhams in London. And his identity has, perhaps, even been laid bare.

Some might say that Banksy's fifteen minutes are up because of these developments.

The value of his street cred has declined, yes, but he's still an art world maverick for his views on copyrights and intellectual property: He lets anyone print images of his work from a "shop" on his website for free.

Anyone can acquire his own genuine Banksy cheaply by taking the artist's advice: "Prints look best when done on gloss paper using the company printer ink when everyone else is at lunch." (This is what I did, and now Pie face, a revisionist portrait of a well-dressed gentleman taking a pie to the side of the face, is tacked up in my cubicle.) Or you can opt for high quality and send a JPG to a professional printer. (Conde Nast Portfolio editor Bob Roe has a giant Bansky depicting three loincloth-clad savages about to move in for the kill on a pack of supermarket carts in his office.) All Banksy asks it that you don't try to sell what you print.

It seems ludicrous, then, that collectors are shelling out tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars for Banksy's works at auction, even if they are painted versions of his designs as opposed to prints. (Pie face done in oil on canvas got $379,446 at Sotheby's London in June.) Of course, Banksy agrees: After Sotheby's made a (relative) killing off seven Banksys it put in a February auction of contemporary art, the artist made a new work that shows an auctioneer directing a lively salesroom accompanied by the caption "I can't believe you morons actually buy this shit."

Banksy, Pie face