No Man's Land

From under freeway overpasses to urban alleyways to train yards, street artists are used to existing in what most people would consider no man's land. Shepard Fairey, in a new interview with The Atlantic, defines that space differently. He sees himself existing in limbo between street artists who call him a sellout and an establishment that calls him a criminal. Yet most people simply call him an artist, and the exposure ensures that he's getting out his message, which is what he wanted from the start. He believes that beginning in 1989, "I felt like it was important to say that, as a taxpayer, I owned a little bit of the public space, and I should be able to have some say in how it was used."

Street art is built on the idea that public space doesn't just belong to corporate interests, it belongs to everyone. Fairey's newest massive piece, however, was viciously attacked from both sides. An epic mural on Bowery and Houston was first ticketed for building code and advertising violations, then was bombed by a local artist (above). Neither side accepts him, though he wants to be both respected by the graffiti community and also sell his art for thousands.

Banksy lives in limbo too, but a totally different kind of no man's land. As a public figure who is completely anonymous, he can move through cities, igniting communities in love and hatred, without saying a word or showing his face. Talking about his current tour through the US, bombing cities in semi-secrecy, the Wooster Collective believes that, "Banksy has given people a new reason to get out of their homes, explore their cities on a scavenger hunt trying to find pieces that have been put up in both heavily trafficked areas as well as those off the beaten path."

One of his pieces in San Francisco was a signature rat on a slab of concrete on Alcatraz, a place that is literally no man's land. Originally inhabited by the Miwok, later home to one of the most infamous prisons in America, occupied by the American Indian Movement from 1969-1971, and currently a tourist trap, Banksy's contribution to the Rock made the declaration that it belongs to all of us and it belongs to none of us.

Arguably the two most famous street artists in the world, Fairey and Banksy both figure prominently in Banksy's debut film project, Exit Through the Gift Shop. It's a very funny and well-made documentary of street art as seen through the always-running video lens of Thierry Guetta (aka Mr. Brainwash). In poking fun at the colorful and inauthentic Guetta, the movie's message seems to be that artists such as Banksy and Fairey are truly authentic because they've paid their dues, put in the time and confronted danger. Hidden amongst the lighthearted jabs and exhilarating footage is the attempt to counter the claims that they have sold out by showing someone who is a true sellout, while at the same time inherently increasing their popularity in the mainstream. They need the support of the tight-knit graffiti world for their credibility, but also want to see how far they can go with their art. It is an incredible paradox, these two artists in no man's land refuting the accusations of one side while at the same time building their visibility in the mainstream. They exist in neither, but are attempting to exist in both. This is something that the street art world as a whole is dealing with, striking a balance between authenticity and popularity. It is an uneasy tension, and it will be interesting to see how long street art can maintain this perilous balancing act.