I’d been to Seoul’s Leeum Museum of Art years ago, but last April was my first visit to see the artwork Comedian by Maurizio Cattelan, which is a banana duct-taped to a wall. It’s a work of conceptual art and comes with a certificate of authenticity giving precise diagrams and instructions for its correct display. It was famously sold for $120,000 at Art Basel Miami in 2019. The banana is changed every few days.
Entry to the gallery was free. There were a lot of visitors, and about 10 people were standing around Comedian. The atmosphere inside the museum was calm. Interestingly, when I got close to another artwork to see it more clearly an alarm sounded and the guards stopped me. But when I approached Comedian, there was no alarm. So there was nothing stopping me when I pulled off the tape to remove the banana from the wall and peeled it.
I ate the banana at 12.30pm on Thursday 27 April. I think they exhibited it so that someone would eventually eat it. I wasn’t feeling much at the time, but I remember the taste. One of my tutors later asked if the banana was delicious, and I told him it was fresh, fresher than I thought it would be. I ate it as I would normally eat a banana. Nobody tried to stop me.
After I finished, I placed the banana skin under the tape on the wall. Then, a guard said, “excuse me”, but didn’t try to restrain me in any way. I talked to the guards. They looked embarrassed.
I’ve been called an art student, but I’m actually studying religious studies and aesthetics at Seoul National University. I suppose aesthetics is the philosophical study of art, exploring what beauty and art is. Since I was young, I’ve always liked the Taoist philosopher Laozi’s book the Tao Te Ching, which was written about 400BC and can perhaps be translated as “the way of integrity”. I became more interested in religious and aesthetic experiences as a result – it’s a beautiful book about freedom and nature.
People who know me don’t think it’s a big deal that I ate the banana. I’ve done some strange things, so they’re pretty much immune to anything I do now. For instance, in 2015, I took a leave of absence from university and lived like a homeless person for a month in Seoul railway station. Later that year, I lived in the Mudeungsan, a mountain range in Hwasun County for about two months. I learned about oriental astrology there.
Then for three years from 2017, I snuck into the centres of various cults and learned about the mechanics of how people are enticed to join. I visited different prayer houses and meditation groups. I didn’t believe in them, of course. But I’m interested in religion, even though I don’t have one myself.
I’d like to be able to tidily explain why I broke those boundaries and did those things, but there is no special reason. They all looked interesting and dragged me in. It’s the same impulse for discovery that drove me to eat the banana.
I’m graduating from university this year. After my studies, I want to create my own art. I’m very interested in artificial intelligence paintings, and it would be fun to express the religious aspects of the east through AI. I believe AI paintings will gradually encroach on all our lives. I am curious and fearful about what the future holds, though artworks driven by philosophical insights inspire me.
It was reported in the press that my banana eating was an act of rebellion or that I was hungry. I think it’s up to the public to decide on that. Some people see my banana eating as simply vandalism. Others say it was done for publicity – and I agree. The act of damaging someone else’s artwork has made me famous. I was an ordinary person, and now thanks to the “comedy” of eating a banana, I’m in the Guardian.
I’m not familiar with Cattelan’s work, other than the banana. I think Comedian can be considered a work of art, apart from the ridiculous price. But there will be different opinions. I’ve never met him, so I don’t really know what he thought of my eating the banana, but I read an article in which his response was “no problem at all”.
LONDON (AP) — With a few daubs of a paintbrush, the Brontë sisters have got their dots back.
More than eight decades after it was installed, a memorial to the three 19th-century sibling novelists in London’s Westminster Abbey was amended Thursday to restore the diaereses – the two dots over the e in their surname.
The dots — which indicate that the name is pronounced “brontay” rather than “bront” — were omitted when the stone tablet commemorating Charlotte, Emily and Anne was erected in the abbey’s Poets’ Corner in October 1939, just after the outbreak of World War II.
They were restored after Brontë historian Sharon Wright, editor of the Brontë Society Gazette, raised the issue with Dean of Westminster David Hoyle. The abbey asked its stonemason to tap in the dots and its conservator to paint them.
“There’s no paper record for anyone complaining about this or mentioning this, so I just wanted to put it right, really,” Wright said. “These three Yorkshire women deserve their place here, but they also deserve to have their name spelled correctly.”
It’s believed the writers’ Irish father Patrick changed the spelling of his surname from Brunty or Prunty when he went to university in England.
Raised on the wild Yorkshire moors, all three sisters died before they were 40, leaving enduring novels including Charlotte’s “Jane Eyre,” Emily’s “Wuthering Heights” and Anne’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.”
Rebecca Yorke, director of the Brontë Society, welcomed the restoration.
“As the Brontës and their work are loved and respected all over the world, it’s entirely appropriate that their name is spelled correctly on their memorial,” she said.
