TVBoy, the urban artist behind the kiss between Broncano and Pablo Motos: “We owe it to Banksy that we are not seen as vandals” | Culture

“I’m not Banksy, I’m not Banksy,” urban artist Salvatore Benintende (Palermo, 43 years old), better known as TVBoy, laughs when asked about his full name. The Italian, who has been living in Barcelona for years, got used to seeing his name linked to that of the British artist in the press when his works began to take off. He takes it philosophically, gets ahead of the comparison and assures that it doesn’t bother him. In addition, he recognizes the importance of probably the most relevant urban artist: “We owe it to Banksy and other artists to not be seen as vandals,” he says in a video call.

Benintende began to stand out last decade with his paintings of kisses between well-known figures. In 2017, his work Love is blind, in which Messi and Ronaldo kissed on Passeig de Gràcia, achieved worldwide fame. Then came other gossip: that same year, the then president Mariano Rajoy had an affair with the head of the opposition, Pedro Sánchez; later, Sánchez with Carles Puigdemont, also Alba Flores with Úrsula Corberó. “I use celebrities to capture the public’s attention, because a kiss between two strangers would not have the same impact,” he explains. The last kiss that went viral, this June, was that of David Broncano and Pablo Motos, on Pelayo Street in Madrid. “There is a lot of talk about the rivalry between the two.”

The ultimate goal is not to go viral, says TVBoy, but to make people think. “I use celebrities to symbolize something, I want to defend values ​​such as diversity, respect for others. I took advantage of the controversy of the presenters to launch a message of integration.” Although he admits that not everyone understands his murals. “Those who stay on the surface will see the joke, the grace, but those who stop to think understand the message against LGTBIphobia, sexism…”

Benintende escaped for a while from the Cupra City Garage space in Madrid, on Serrano Street, where he presented his first solo exhibition in the city to capture the kiss between the two communicators. “I take advantage of my trips to paint something in the cities where I go.” With the car firm she is touring Europe (she has been to the brand’s spaces in Paris, Berlin, Munich…). “They named me Global Ambassador in 2021, and I am especially excited because of the values ​​we share: it is daring, rebellious, they care about sustainability and that is why they are heading towards electrification. Plus, cars move through the streets, like my art.” Among her works, highlights Saint Rosalia, a painting of the singer depicted as a virgin. “Before, religious figures were venerated; now that cult has turned to celebrities, and that is why I drew her like that. Also, Saint Rosalia is the patron saint of Palermo. When I drew her there, many people did not know who the singer Rosalia was, but they left her flowers and lit candles for her,” she recalls. Super Alexia, which represents the Barça player as a superhero. “The two women represent female empowerment. I have a 7-year-old daughter who last year asked me to sign up for soccer, inspired by Putellas,” she says.

From the ‘underground’ to conservative neighborhoods

As TVBoy, he is especially excited to exhibit in conservative and traditional neighborhoods like Salamanca. “I come from painting in social centers, in a more underground. Being able to take my speech to a bourgeois street like Serrano makes it even more demanding.” He knows that there are people who might be bothered by his work, but he doesn’t care. “It means that I have achieved my goal, I have stirred something inside them, I make them think.” He is also aware that his works, when they are on the street, can disappear or be altered. His perception of this has also changed.

“At first I was very angry. Now I see it as a gift I give to the city, the moment I paint it, it stops being mine. If they don’t like it and decide to delete it, well, that’s it, I’ve already made my statement, and I’ve documented it and uploaded it to social media, where it has a longer life.” Also more broadly: on Instagram, he has more than a million followers. “And if someone writes about my work or modifies it, in the end they are making a mistake. performanceit becomes collective and I like how it transforms. For example, in my work Ayuso Formula (the Madrid president appears in a rally driver’s jumpsuit), someone wrote about the deaths in the residences, and thus it acquired yet another meaning.

Starting in 2006, many cities began to establish anti-graffiti plans: if an artist was caught with spray cans, the matter would be criminal. So TVBoy had to change his technique to reduce creation time. “I have paid 3,000 euros,” she confesses. He now paints the work on paper in the studio, cuts it out, applies a special glue and sticks it on the wall he wants. “Then, with the spray, I add details such as shadows and other effects to give it three-dimensionality, or I write a sentence. The execution time goes from hours to minutes.” This also allows him another game: to confuse himself as just another worker. “I used to go out at night, so they wouldn’t see me. Nowadays I like to work during the day. Many times I wear overalls, like a worker, and the invisibility cloak it gives you is incredible. When they stop me, it’s to ask me for directions,” he laughs.

“Democratic showcase”

Speaking of graffiti, what do you think of the word graffiti artist? “I don’t like it, it has something derogatory about it, like a security guard. I did start doing graffiti, but it was 1996, I was 16 years old and I painted letters on trains. And that’s when I fell in love with urban art, I wanted to be accessible to everyone, I didn’t want to pursue a career with a traditional easel, because you connect with all kinds of people, it’s a very democratic showcase, you reach people with studies, without studies, children, the elderly…”, he claims.

So, do urban works lose their meaning when they enter a gallery or museum? “In the end I fell, yes,” he confesses, amused. “After the Covid pandemic, spending so much time locked up in the studio, I felt the need to make an exhibition in the museum that would compile everything I have done on the street, which has been lost,” he acknowledges. “I agree that the moment a work enters a museum it is no longer urban art, but what is important is the message, which is communicated in the same way. “What I do is replicate the mural on fabric.” This is not always possible, like his work in kyiv, where he went in January 2023 to deliver a message for peace and reconciliation. “There the strength was in the support: the walls full of bullet holes, a rusty tank on which I drew a dove of peace… If I paint those murals on a canvas, they lose their meaning, so I printed photographs of the result to keep its power.”

He also admits that he likes this contradiction in his art. “If my works are on the street, they have no value, some are even removed. However, once they enter a museum, they acquire a value, the conception changes.” And he takes the opportunity to tell an anecdote: “In 2018, the Italian ambassador in Madrid, who was very open, gave me permission to paint the facade of the Embassy, ​​on Lagasca Street. Well, the police came and, when they were already handcuffing me, Stefano Sannino had to come out to explain to them that I had permission. The officers couldn’t believe it.”

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