If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll know that I’m fascinated by Maurizio Cattelan’s Comedian. I think it’s because, more than just the art itself, I’ve learned something new about myself: as I grow as an artist, my perspective is evolving, and I’m becoming more open to the world of contemporary art.
In the past, I appreciated art based on the skill involved and its aesthetic appeal. I didn’t dive deep into the artist’s profile, thought process, or message. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always enjoyed a bit of controversy, especially after seeing the 1997 Sensation exhibition at The Royal Academy of Arts, London. But, overall, my approach was simple – either I liked the look of the art, or I didn’t.
Now, rather than taking what’s in front of me at face value, making quick assumptions, and forming immediate opinions, I want more context before I decide whether I like something or not.
Maurizio Cattelan is an Italian contemporary artist known for his installations, hyperrealistic wax sculptures, taxidermy, and prints. He’s entirely self-taught – much like Frida Kahlo and Jean-Michel Basquiat, two artists I greatly admire. Cattelan is often referred to as “the court jester” of the art world because of his satirical works that challenge the establishment. This approach makes his pieces controversial and, in many cases, sensational, much like his artistic predecessors.
Take Pope John Paul II for example, a sculpture of the pope lying down, struck by a meteorite. This piece could be interpreted as a reminder that even the holiest are human and vulnerable, or that penance for one’s sins is inevitable.
Or America, a fully functional 18-karat gold toilet, installed in a Guggenheim Museum bathroom for public use. This piece could symbolise the absurdity of wealth – after all, a toilet is still just a toilet, regardless of the material it’s made from. Alternatively, it might represent the yearning of the “lesser” person to attain the status of the elite.
Comedian, first exhibited at Art Basel Miami Beach in 2019, has recently resurfaced in the news because it’s going to auction at Sotheby’s again. The winning bidder will pay for a certificate of authenticity, a roll of duct tape, and a banana. After all, they’re really paying for the concept itself.
Despite the title, Cattelan isn’t mocking the art world. As he said in a 2021 Art Newspaper interview, the piece is “not a joke, [rather] a reflection of what we value.”
Much like Andy Warhol, who focused on everyday items, Cattelan has taken something familiar to all of us – a banana – and transformed it into conceptual art. While Warhol immortalised objects to comment on the impermanence of life, Cattelan draws attention to the banana’s fragility.
Yes, it’s just a banana duct-taped to a wall. Did it require much technical skill? No. Is it borderline absurd? Yes. Is it ridiculous that it has previously been sold for $120,000 to $150,000? Probably. However, if you look beyond the physical triviality, you might find it haunting:
“I think we should live with the awareness that everything we have can be taken away from us at any moment… There is value in knowing that at any moment everything we have can disappear in a cloud of smoke,”
Cattelan said in an interview with Harvey Byworth-Morgan. Though his words were in response to a different question, they resonate here, too.
Comedian can be seen as an allegory for human life. We get stuck in the daily grind, often feeling like we’ve hit a brick wall when life gets tough. We age, we die, and the cycle repeats – with a new banana each time. We can choose to dismiss it as lazy art or reflect on the spiritual value embedded in Cattelan’s concept, much as we have done throughout art history with the appearance of memento mori in paintings and the popularity of vanitas. Consider Caravaggio’s St. Jerome Writing, Cezanne’s Still Life with a Skull, or Frida Kahlo’s Still Life With Parrot and Fruit – all of which, over the ages, have served as reminders of our mortality.
How is Cattelan’s Comedian any different from Banksy’s Girl with a Balloon (which has a built-in shredder) or Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s wrapped installations? It’s content vs. concept. And this is where I’ve come to appreciate contemporary art as a delightful disturbance.
It doesn’t need to be beautiful or technically impressive – it just has to engage, shock, and provoke a reaction. Contemporary art should spark debate. It should make us think, because isn’t it an intangible reflection of ourselves as a society? Whether it fascinates, frightens, or forces us to seek deeper truths, contemporary art pushes us to look beyond what’s directly in front of us.