Shepard Fairey Makes Irony Feel New Again
Why hasn't some lawyer out there built a federal campaign finance reform case against Shepard Fairey, the graffiti artist whose "Hope" posters of Barack Obama helped stir wide popular affection for the Democratic presidential candidate in 2008? The "Hope" image was one of the most valuable canvassing tools of all time. You could make the case that the logo's worth in President Obama's half-billion-dollar campaign was at least in the eight-figure range. Yet somehow the campaign can just accept this contribution? The public can be allowed to see it within 60 days of the election? How can anybody who believes in appropriate restrictions on political expression stand to see this abuse right in plain view?
Instead, the committed social justice advocate just has to deal with trifling claims like this: Fairey has had the exterior of his Sunset Blvd., studio coated with a sealant that makes graffiti easier to clean off.
The mild contradiction here (Fairey recently pled guilty in Boston to tagging other people's property) is pretty garden variety. The Eastsider LA blog, after a due diligence email exchange with Fairey's office, wrote up the main facts in a straightforward post.
Fairey, who has recently assumed important national roles as an expropriator of surplus value and grammarian, shot back with a profanity-laced 370-word screed that accuses the Eastsider of being "obnoxious" and lacking in "objectivity;" "an anti-art hypocrite" who is "sensational," "lazy" and driven by an "agenda;" "an irresponsible journalist" and more. And the unkindest cut of all: Fairey accuses the Eastsider of being less wealthy than himself, concluding, "Maybe the economy has made you desperate, or maybe you are always slime."
As far as I can tell, Fairey's only substantive argument with the Eastsider's post is this: "My practice as a street artist has NEVER included putting my work on pristine or operational buildings unless asked to do so." There's some logic missing in that claim, but I have to welcome Fairey's half-baked humorlessness. It's exactly this attitude that has made this post-ironic era such a wiseacre's paradise.
