Maybe It's Time for Lady Gaga to Disappear

Today's pop stars live for the applause, but as Lou Reed, Banksy, and Pynchon have shown, shunning attention can be the best way to keep it.
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Reuters / Carlo Allegri and Brendan McDermid

The death of Lou Reed has been felt most sharply across popular music, but his absence resonates in the art world, which he inhabited as an accomplished photographer and as an earlier product and documentarian of Andy Warhol.

This week an aspiring boundary-breaker in the mold of Reed, Lady Gaga, released her latest album, with the intention of doing what she terms a reversal of Warhol: "Instead of putting pop onto the canvas, we wanted to put art onto the soup can." (Of course many, Warhol included, have already pulled that move). To achieve this somewhat muddled goal, Gaga has famously cozied up to established artists such as flavor-of-the-past-few-years Marina Abramović, and the creator of the Artpop cover imagery, Jeff Koons.

It's been argued elsewhere that Gaga will be a poor substitute if history records her as this generation’s Lou Reed or Velvet Underground; ditto for Jay Z, whose own dalliance with Abramović has been called the “day performance art died.” Both stars seem more interested in aligning themselves with art for its cultural cachet, rather than out of much appreciation for the work itself. But what’s more worrying—and significant—is the way that musicians such as Gaga and Jay Z, artists like Abramović, and aspiring creative polymaths such as James Franco have put the projection of their own image and experience to the fore of their endeavors: They’re known more for being who they are than for what they create.

Plenty of people agree we're living through an unusually narcissistic age, and you could make a valid argument that art should reflect our "selfie"-drenched reality. But should this really be done without the degree of criticism implicit in Warhol and his oeuvre? In a way Gaga has succeeded in attempting to invert Warhol, but mostly by showing us how to generate pure commodity from art, rather than how to turn fame and the everyday objects of capitalism on their head as he did. Even if she does operate with a degree of self-awareness and cheek, most listeners no doubt hear a chorus like “I live for the applause” less as parody and more as yet another endorsement of celebrity for celebrity’s sake.

Of course, Reed, Warhol, and plenty of other creative individuals throughout history have also been egocentrics. But the most successful and critically lauded among them have still felt some degree of discomfort in the spotlight, and have expressed at least a little reluctance to engage with the media machine that sustains it. Reed’s well-known reticence to offer much to interviewers is a good example, and the sense of mystique this created probably helped to prolong our interest.

At the very least, creatives have in the past largely lived by one of Abramović’s own supposed commandments, that “an artist should not make themselves into an idol." This she revealed, straight-faced, in the course of the HBO account of her Museum of Modern Art retrospective The Artist is Present, whose central experience involved a waiting period that would have tested Saint Simeon, before a brief seat at her altar could be gained. This work was also the logical extension of Tracy Emin’s and other Young British Artists’ earlier explorations of the fairly unengaging minutiae of their existences.

In contrast, no one offers a more compelling contemporary case for the power of putting identity to one side than the world’s most documented street artist, Banksy. His recent month-long open-air “residency” of New York City held both mainstream and niche media in the metropolis deep within its thrall, and ended with Banksy's familiar pronouncement that art should live well outside the gallery, in easy reach of the masses. While that would indeed be a utopian turn, Banksy’s revolution until now has been to preserve his anonymity while amassing a huge body of work and an army of global admirers.

This is not to say that he is all that enigmatic. His art is fairly overt in its political and cultural ideology, he maintains a blog, has produced a highly entertaining documentary, gives interviews (sometimes face-to-face), and has frequently published op-eds and other material. However, all of these actions ultimately serve as an outwards projection of his work; there are no stories of his private life, no obsessing over his appearance, and no other distractions to concern us. And the result has, contrary to the mantra of Gaga and her ilk, elevated the work above others operating in a similar space. Despite remaining open to significant criticism (his pieces can be a bit simplistic and his messages a little ham-fisted or cloying), Banksy remains the consummate artist of his times by swimming against the tide of self-aggrandizement and constant image management.

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James Bowen

James Bowen is a freelance writer based in New York City and a former speechwriter for the Australian government. He writes at trebuchetblog.net.

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