At one point or another, every out-of-towner utters the same sentiment.
“I love it here...but why is there so much garbage?”
It’s amazing how we’ve become blind to the massive amounts of trash that line our streets. It was years before I even notice how insane it is for a girl in $800 heels step over a pile of garbage as she walks into the city’s trendiest club. Furthermore, I trained myself to flat-out ignore the bag lady rummaging through that very pile hours later, looking for the same girl’s discared $12 beer as part of her bounty of five and ten cent deposits. New Yorkers are the fish who can’t see they’re in water.
Then, one day, I started to photograph it. I began taking loving portraits of the discarded waste—and realized something. Garbage is the negative space of our culture—it’s where we were and what we did. Trash is the grimy fossil of moments that passed. And it tells a story. Some stories capture the rythm of the city, some imply mysteries we’ll never solve. Some capture the character of a neighborhood, or the disparity that exists within it. And some remind you of the vibrancy of the city we love—and why we put up with the filth. It’s all there, written in the soiled tea leaves.
People love The Human’s of New York. Well, this is their garbage. And in many ways, trash is far more honest narrator than the people who threw it away.
Follow the story on Instagram at @TrashNYC.
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On October 13, the infamous street artist Banksy attempted to sell $60 canvases (worth tens-of-thousands of dollars each) to unsuspecting New Yorkers. In seven hours, he had just three customers.
When news of this broke, the story took over New York. In that echo of media hype, we saw an opportunity for a little mischief, and a chance to make a statement about the nature of hype, public personas, and the value of art.
After a lot of hustle, Lance Pilgrim ( @TheElroyJenkins ) and I, with the help of film maker George Gross ( http://vimeo.com/georgegross ) recreated the Banksy stall one week later.
Same price. Same images. Same location. Everything was the same--we even got Lance's father Michael to be the salesman. Everything was identical...except for two things:
We were open about this. Our sign said "Fake Banksy." Mike assured every customer that it was fake. Each canvas even came with a legally notarized "Certificate of Inauthenticity," claiming that what they bought was not an original Banksy.
It didn't matter.
We sold everything in less than an hour. Including the price sign.
Soon our story went viral—garnering hundreds of thousands of views and media attention the world over.
Serious and not so serious works of art and mischief.
Serious and not so serious works of art and mischief.
Learn how to win original art, commemorating the one-year anniversary of Fake Banksy Sells Out!
Everyone is telling me that what Zilla Van Der Born, the dutch woman who faked a vacation, reminds them of Fakebook. There's a reason for this. That was me too. I faked being a dutch girl who faked being on vacation.
Banksy unsuccessfully attempted to sell his authentic art, worth tens-of-thousands of dollars, to unsuspecting New Yorkers for just $60. A week later, Fake Banksy appeared in the same spot, selling "fake" canvases for the same price.
This is what happened.
How I tricked Arnold Schwarzenegger into unknowingly performing Radioactive Man from the Simpsons.