Fairey shows off art before exhibit
“Art is what you can get away with.”
And within this quiet “white cube of modern art,” as Fogg Museum curator Susan Dackerman put it earlier this evening, it appears that this definition is one with which most of the attendees of her Q&A with Fairey seem to be quite comfortable. While a storm of controversy raged outside the museum among photographers and writers over the topic of plagiarism, one of the dirtiest words in journalism, every room inside this exhibit was respectfully hushed, with skateboarders and suburban intellectuals giving eachother wide berth around the corners of Fairey’s multi-room "Supply and Demand" exhibit.
Before Fairey’s appearance, these same patient people waited in line for the doors ICA’s auditorium to open for his appearance for almost an hour, shuffling in their ankle boots and flipping through copies of 1984 and Animal Farm, for which Fairey has created new cover designs. Some made chit-chat about the Associated Press' beef with Fairey over his 'referencing' a copyrighted image of President Obama which appears in his now-iconic “Obama HOPE” poster. But it was idle chit-chat, and quickly turned to how much his stickers cost in the gift shop, or to the copies of Fairey’s 1990 Manifesto, an artist’s statement on his Andre the Giant campaign (inspired, he says, by Heidegger's work on phenomenology), being distributed by docents. The only bystander who appeared to have a twinkle of cynicism in his eye joked about being “quizzed” on the surprisingly academic material, and told me he expected Fairey would be “preaching to the choir” rather than facing hard questions about fair use.
That is basically what happened. Dackerman led Fairey through a sometimes-interesting, sometimes repetitive series of questions about his street art and what it was like to meet Obama, and avoided the tough stuff, although Fairey did acknowledge that accusations of plagiarism have been aimed his way for what he calls “references” to earlier works of propaganda, political portraiture, advertising and photography.
“A lot of my work derives its power from the ways I’ve changed the message,” Fairey said in his defense. “I think it’s an important part of a pop culture dialogue.”
Dackerman did not push him further, and no questions were allowed from the audience.
However, one doesn’t have to be a member of Fairey’s choir to admit that he delivered a compelling sermon. Over the course of the evening, the boyishly handsome artist, dressed all in denim, held forth on topics ranging from his pre-Andre the Giant days at RISD (“where people looked at [my overtly political works] like, isn’t that cute, you little idealist”) to his two meetings with Obama (“I respond to authenticity, I think a lot of artists do”) with aplomb and an easy wit, dropping gentle expletives along the way.
Fairey’s sense of humor shone in portions of the interview where discussed the work of his firm on campaigns for “elitist” companies like Saks and Virgin Megastore, and of course, his poster for Obama.
Of Obama, Fairey seemed careful not to wax wide-eyed liberal, but said he appreciated that Obama seemed to understand his work and to admire the way he had disseminated his graphics right away, especially since the campaign itself had been so successful with its own viral marketing. Fairey said he originally saw his work for the campaign as a way to get politically active: “I [could] not stand by and watch the Bush administration destroy the principles this country was founded on and not say something.” (This line brought a round of applause.)
Upon meeting Obama, on a day during which the stock market took a major dive, Fairey was impressed by his commitment to change. “He actually said to me, 'I’m gonna cut this short because I need to go home tonight and learn how to fix this,'” Fairey said. “Bush would have stuck around for a few more hot dogs.”
On the topic of his recent work with corporate accounts like Saks, Fairey said he accepts the idea that “in a capitalist society, art and commerce are always going to need eachother”, so his goal is to “try to make marketing art”. The income he receives on these campaigns, he says, allows him to have complete freedom in his fine art, while other artists might be pressured to bow to market forces. He’s irked by peers who accuse him of “being co-opted by The Man”, quipping “Who is co-opting whom? Maybe I’m co-opting The Man.” After all, he says, his firm's recent shopping bag design for Saks Fifth Avenue is openly subversive: “I think it’s funny that very wealthy people should be carrying around these bags with this ‘power to the proletariat’ message.”
No doubt Fairey’s witty repartee made it easier for the attendees of his lecture tonight to forgive him for the uncertainty his AP photo controversy has caused and his dalliances with the corporate America he has so long criticized. But it also appears that Fairey hasn't been losing much sleep over these issues. It seems fair to assume that he and his curators at the ICA believe he is following a clear precedent established by Andy Warhol, who also made a career of churning out a high volume of reproduced works, doing pop art that referenced iconic celebrity images like Marilyn Monroe, and working on ad campaigns for corporate interests like Absolut Vodka and Vidal Sassoon.
For this exhibit, Fairey and his team not only installed sophisticated graphics on the fourth floor of the ICA, but visited several sites around Boston, both legal and illegal, including City Hall, Chinatown and Cambridge and papered them in the traditional street art fashion as a de facto counterpoint to the gallery exhibit. Fairey considers the street context of his art to be a crucial part of the work, and we appreciate the populist nod to the proles among us who can't afford the ICA's $12 admission fee. Luckily, Bostonist has created a map for you here, so you can find your way around Fairey's world.
