Do I Need Banksy to Be a Mystery?

In the rapid churn of our current news cycle, you'd be forgiven if you missed a big reported feature from Reuters last week in which the wire service's reporters said they'd finally done it: They'd unmasked Banksy.

Even non-art-appreciating folks recognize Banksy, the street/graffiti artist whose subversive images are as well known as the one prevailing detail of his public persona, namely his anonymity.

It's not the first time journalists have claimed to out the artist, but it is perhaps the most convincing. And its convincingness is what has my wheels turning, trying to figure out a basic truth: Do I care?

I'm of two minds about the whole thing: the fan and the journalist. I'll take each in turn.

The fan — of the artist, the art, the messaging, the mystery — was hesitant to click on the story, as if I didn't click, didn't actively seek out the information, that I could remain unblemished. It's a silly notion, and there's no real difference if I personally read it or not. What I'm grappling with is this: Do I want this to be information that was (diligently) reported out and shared?

I think my overall answer, at least from the fan perspective, is a blanket "No." I did not want this. I did not ask for it. Banksy is exciting because of the mystery. Why would I want that taken away or diminished in any way?

It's not that I think his messages are so subversive that he can't be free to make them if his identity were known; that would be nonsense. Far more transgressive messages are said each and every day, signed, sealed, delivered by people with far less clout and money than Banksy.

I just like the production of it all. I like the cloak-and-dagger of it all. And sure, countless street artists and graffiti artists are doing the same thing without the acclaim. I get it. (Though I found these bits of the Reuters story the least engaging or compelling.)

I do worry, rightly or wrongly, that he'll stop making art when this element of his process is taken away from him. If the choice were a stark binary — learn Banksy's identity or keep enjoying new Banksy artwork — I would, without hesitation, pick the latter. No contest. No second-guessing.

But then there's the journalist in me.

And I find myself conflicted.

As a former daily journalist (but constant admirer of the craft), I found myself in awe of the reporting on display in the story. It's diligent and thorough without great need or reason to be. It's not hard news. It's not necessary information. But because they know their credibility would be targeted if they didn't have the facts buttoned up, they reported the hell out of this story.

And it was a thrilling read!

I wanted to know what happened next. It was ever so close to being a procedural — a document to commemorate the steps they took to figure out the answers. But it contains the profluence of a narrative. It reconstructs. It shows receipts. It is, in short, masterful work.

I feel conflicted because of my knee-jerk reaction of: Yeah, but did it need to exist at all? Don't get me wrong: If it's going to exist at all, this is the version I want, the one we (and honestly, Banksy, too) deserve. But like the efforts to unmask Elena Ferrante, I'm struck by a bit of exasperation, of "Can't we just let sleeping dogs lie?"

It's a weird spot for me. I rarely (if ever) advocate for less journalism. I want the stories; give me the stories. But I'm reminded of The New Yorker story on Hasan Minhaj's stand-up act: There is literally no better news-gathering-and-fact-checking operation in the world to get to the bottom of the question "How truthful is the material in his routine?" I felt, by the end of it, that I knew the capital-T truth.

But to what end? Should it have been a story at all? I honestly don't think so. Not because it was a waste of time or talent. Not because it was a hit piece. But simply because it diminished the experience of enjoying the underlying art.

Sure, Banksy's case represents a stronger one, since there are technical crimes undergirding his art (where no such claim could be made toward Minhaj's comedy), but still—a part of me is just like, "C'mon, guys. Did we have to?"

But they did, and they did it well. Now, my question remains: Will it matter? If Banksy keeps making art, will it have lost some of that magic? Will I still get the same rush if I know some guy named David did it? I honestly don't know, but I'm dying to find out. Here's hoping a new piece pops up soon.