The Artist vs The Brand

Jason Stoneking is an American writer living in Paris

When I was in Cairo for a three-month artist residency earlier this year, I had the good fortune of seeing one of my project ideas catch on. It attracted the support of almost 10,000 followers in a few short weeks. The project was the Cairo Dish-Painting Initiative, and the idea was simple. I wanted to encourage the people of Cairo to go up on their rooftops and express themselves creatively by painting the dusty brown satellite dishes that famously speckle the skyline. I liked the idea of seeing some colour splashed across the monochrome. It was also a non-explicit, non-political way to celebrate diversity during a difficult time for people in the country to feel comfortable expressing themselves.

I was thrilled that the idea took off. Everyone I encountered seemed to love it. My friends and I were invited all over the city to paint dishes, and the project was covered in countless newspapers, magazines and websites, as well as Reuters and the Associated Press. One day, we painted over 20 dishes atop the Kodak Building – a famous downtown landmark – while at least half a dozen television cameras filmed us. Soon we started to receive pictures from local people who had caught onto the idea and were painting their own dishes at home.

A few months later, I was contacted by the employee of a production company asking if they could feature my work in a television commercial for a ‘big brand’. I told them I was not sure I would be comfortable with that and asked if they could give me more information. The person responded that the commercial was for 7Up. I answered quickly and clearly that I had no interest whatsoever in associating either myself or my project, or any images of my project, with 7Up. I also quite directly explained my reasons. I do not drink soda, I do not believe in drinking soda and, in general, I do not want my art to be used to sell commercial products. After that, I never received a response from the person who contacted me.

One day, a few months down the line, I got a link from a friend in Egypt with the ominous words, ‘You need to watch this to the end’. The link was to a new 7Up commercial on YouTube. It featured images of people engaged in colourful community art projects while drinking 7Up. One of the projects was a group of people painting satellite dishes, which in some cases looked eerily similar to the ones on my Facebook page for the project. In a regional version of the advert, this scene is even labeled with the English words, ‘dish painting, Cairo’. It was clear that the ad aimed to reference, and if possible, directly affiliate itself with my project.

I was incensed for a number of reasons. I felt that by reaching out to me, the production company had acknowledged the idea as mine, rather than as community property. And I believed that now people would see the commercial and assume that I had participated willingly. I thought this was bad both for me and for the project. Firstly, because the project was intended to be an empowering gesture for local people, on the community level. It sent the message that even a small effort could go a long way towards helping to beautify and reframe their city. The last message in the world I wanted to send was that Egyptian people should express their values by giving their money to a foreign corporation in exchange for some empty calories. And the other reason this bothered me is that it sent the message that I and my work could be bought.

As a writer, I am often vehemently anti-consumerist in my focus. I have written numerous essays about how the individual can empower themselves by buying fewer unnecessary products. This means working fewer hours to earn their overhead and freeing up time to explore the things that might bring them a deeper and longer-lasting happiness. This includes their art, their friendships, nature and philosophy. The idea that people might see this ad and think that I was somehow endorsing a product with my art was immediately repulsive to me. And that effect was exacerbated by the product itself, an American soft drink, perhaps the greatest conceivable metaphor for gluttonous empty values.

I make art in order to liberate people from their unexamined relationships to consumer products. I want people to know that there are things more important than spending money on flashy status symbols. I would rather see them painting than buying posters. I would rather see them playing instruments than buying a CD. And I would rather see them drinking water than buying bottles of a substance that will never quench their real thirst.