Book: "Seven Years With Banksy" A book by Robert Clarke

By - Thursday, September 27th, 2012

{image-1} Whether you feel like he’s a champion for the cause or the prime example of the Art worlds exploitation machine Banksy is iconic and without the mystery of the true identity of our own version of Bruce Wayne, the world of Art across the board and the audience within it has more than a few wondering who exactly that secret of a man is. Robert Clarke doesn’t appear to want to answer that question but he does give an attempt at humanizing this quickly evolving Artist by giving insight to the conversations they’ve had together. Some excerpts from the book Seven Years With Banksy by Robert Clarke ( Michael O’Mara books) are as follows: “Yeah; good to see you,” I responded. There was a slight air of expectation about him so I perked up and paid attention. We exchanged a few pleasantries and he got down to business. “I’ve got a question for you,” he says. I knew what he was going to ask. It had been the elephant in the room for some time and it wasn’t going to be my hand in marriage. “Yeah?” He took a breath in. “Do you think I should reveal myself, you know, to the press, tell them who I am, let them know and all that?” I’d already thought about this so my answer came easily: “No, no way,” I said emphatically. When speaking about the money and its motivating factor in Banksy’s life: He cut me off real quick and became animated again and said, “No, nah, that’s not important. I couldn’t care less about that. I could go back tomorrow to what I was doing before.” “What was that?” I asked. “Working in a slaughterhouse,’ he said. I tripped out on that. Who the fuck would go back to working in a slaughterhouse given half a chance? But it sounded true; I didn’t doubt it for a second. This comment cut me down and I thought better of saying more. He was shaking his head. We came back to the room and the goings-on around us. It was the millennium’s eve. Party time. We looked at each other a little. I smiled. It was good to see him at this juncture, at this impossible moment. “Yeah, see you,” he said. “Happy New Year,” I replied. “Yeah, right,” he said, and then he was gone. I’ve still yet to see the book in my hands but it may be worth the read. What do you think? Is Banksy and his identity still an interest? Is it irrelevant? Is it worth a book? Let us know in the comment section of the article. Thank yous to Robert Clarke, the Huffington Post for the initial article and Banksy (Whoever he may be.) Text: Milk / Kill The Giant @wekillthegiant

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