Banksy_img1.gif Banksy
Banksy 51
Banksy is een artiest die door zijn guerilla-graffity kunst flinke media aandacht heeft weten te krijgen. Zijn ware identiteit heeft hij vooralsnog geheim weten te houden. In zijn werk is een constante aanklacht te vinden tegen oorlog, het is vaak antikapitalistisch, anti-establishment, tegen de surveillance cultuur gekeerd en kan over het algemeen gezien worden als pro-vrijheid. Guantanamo, de IsraĆ«lische muur, Popcultuur, het engelse koningshuis, Disneyland, Brooklyn- zoo, hiphopcultuur, oorlogsverslaggeving, hooligangeweld, al deze onderwerpen hebben het moeten vergelden als onderwerp van zijn stencilgraffiti en schilderijen. Meestal met zeer geestige, cynische of confronterende beelden. Hij heeft in vele landen de autoriteiten tegen zich in het harnas weten te jagen. In een referendum in Birmingham, waar de gemeente de bevolking vroeg of een graffiti die aan hem wordt toegeschreven moest worden verwijderd, wilde 97% dat de tag gepreserveerd werd.52 Deze status doet denken aan die van de Provo’s die met hun geweldloze acties de autoriteiten tot extreme middelen dreef. Dit leidde ertoe dat de provo’s hun doel bereikten; ‘de autoriteiten in verwarring brengen’. Door deze ‘overwinning’ hadden ze een belangrijke rol in de vorming van de Nederlandse hippie beweging, en dan vooral de antiautoritaire houding die in de jaren ’70 tijdelijke populariteit genoot. De Provo’s gelden als een belangrijke inspiratie tot de rol van de Situationisten tijdens de gebeurtenissen van mei 1968
Banksy_img2.gif A guide to cutting stencils

• Think from outside the box.
• Collapse the box and take a fucking sharp knife to it.
• Leave the house before you find something worth staying in for.
• It's easier to get forgiveness than permission.
• Spray the paint sparingly onto the stencil from a distance of 8 inches.
• Be aware that going on a major mission totally drunk out of your head will result in some truly spectacular artwork and at least one night in the cells.
• When explaining yourself to the Police its worth being as reasonable as possible. Graffiti writers are not real villains. I am always reminded of this by real villains who consider the idea of breaking in someplace, not stealing anything and then leaving behind a painting of your name in four foot high letters the most retarded thing they ever heard of.
• Remember crime against property is not real crime. People look at an oil painting and admire the use of brushstrokes to convey meaning. People look at a graffiti painting and admire the use of a drainpipe to gain access.
• The time of getting fame for your name on its own is over. Artwork that is only about wanting to be famous will never make you famous. Any fame is a by-product of making something that means something. You don't go to a restaurant and order a meal because you want to have a shit.
Banksy_img3.gif Manifesto
An extract from the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was
among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.


I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diptheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand proping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentary which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it, it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tatooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.
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