Guilty Pleasures – Can We Separate The Artist From Their Art?
In recent years, many of us have seen celebrities that we grew up listening to and watching on TV being convicted of a wide range of offences.
In the past 10 years alone, we have seen childhood television personalities like Jimmy Savile, Bill Cosby and Rolf Harris, and musicians like Ian Watkins (lead singer of Lostprophets) and R Kelly, accused or convicted of offences against women and children.
For some of us, these celebrities form an essential part of our childhood memories. Those of us in our 30s and 40s will recall the Jim’ll Fix It theme song with ease, and those in their 20s and 30s will have fond recollections of, or even emotional connections to, songs like Last Summer and I Believe I Can Fly.
Listening to songs and watching shows that we innocently enjoyed in our younger years now feels like a guilty pleasure.
This leads onto an often-asked question – can we separate the artist from their art?
When an artist is accused or convicted of a heinous crime, does that mean we should no longer enjoy their art?
‘Cancel culture’ is routinely applied to celebrities convicted of sex offences, especially those involving children – like Ian Watkins, Mark Salling (Noah Puckerman in Glee) and Gary Glitter.
The same cannot be said for former bank robber Gregory David Roberts (author of Shantaram) and Jordan Belfort, who became a celebrity because of his white-collar crimes, and arguably achieved superstar status after being portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio in The Wolf of Wall Street.
So does our response differ, dependent upon what the offence is?
Where an offence falls on our moral compasses is likely to dictate our response to the offender.
For instance, those who believe drugs should be legalised, or are, at least, critical of the sentences imposed for drug offences, might be more inclined to condone drugs convictions by artists such as Mick Jagger, Paul McCartney, Snoop Dogg, and Pete Doherty. Indeed, some argue, drugs can be seen as synonymous with the ‘rock n’ roll’ lifestyle.
Those who believe drugs are a blight upon our society are likely to be considerably less forgiving.
Our perception of the offenders themselves can also affect our views – for instance, Ronnie and Reggie Kray went from East End fame, mingling with the likes of politicians and TV stars like Barbara Windsor, to worldwide notoriety, following their 1969 convictions for murder.
Their books have sold millions of copies, and numerous films have been made about their crimes, featuring stars such as the Kemp brothers from Spandau Ballet, and Tom Hardy.
Those who defend the Krays are quick to point out that they gave money to charity, they loved their mum, and suggest that they only targeted others in the criminal underworld.
Opponents of this school of thought are equally quick to point out that they were still convicted murderers, running a large number of criminal operations at the time of their incarceration, including protection rackets.
A criminal conviction, or civil suit for wrongdoing, isn’t fatal to someone’s celebrity standing, by any means.
Both Caitlyn Jenner and Matthew Broderick have killed people in road traffic accidents (Jenner in 2015, and Broderick in 1987), but have had continued success in reality television and the film industry respectively, with Jenner appearing in I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! in 2019, and Broderick starring in a large number of films post-conviction, including Glory in 1989, The Lion King in 1994 and Election in 1999.
Whilst Chris Brown’s career stalled after his 2009 conviction for assaulting Rihanna, he still went on to achieve further chart success with hits such as Loyal and Look At Me Now.
Boxer Mike Tyson served a prison sentence in 1992 for rape, but also made a comeback, although this was put on hold after he bit off part of Evander Holyfield’s ear during their fight in 1997. Despite this, and further convictions in 2007 for drugs and driving offences, Tyson still made a successful move into acting, notoriously starring as himself in The Hangover films in 2009 and 2011.
What we can draw from this is that perhaps when an artist is already established in their career, it is easier to distinguish their actions from their art.
Where the person’s personality is part of their art, even if someone is established, it is more likely that their actions will taint our views of their art – for instance, few have seen The Cosby Show in the same light since the revelations about Bill Cosby’s predatory behaviour.
It is easier to separate the artist from the art if the person is ‘behind the scenes’, as with Hollywood producer – and now convicted sex offender – Harvey Weinstein (whose production company Miramax was behind huge films like Shakespeare in Love and Pulp Fiction).
Although Weinstein has now been held to account for his behaviour, perhaps inexplicably, Roman Polanski has not, yet is still making films and winning awards, despite admitting in 1977 that he had sex with a 13-year-old girl when he was 44 years old, and fleeing the country to avoid justice.
Another factor that may be relevant to the extent that we can separate an artist from their art is, how much do we appreciate their art?
John Lennon confessed to being violent towards both his first wife, Cynthia Lennon, and his second wife, Yoko Ono, but later campaigned for peace and spoke about his shame for his earlier behaviour. His music is still adored over 40 years after his death, and fans continue to honour him with memorials around the world; for instance, at Central Park’s Strawberry Fields in New York, and at Lennon Wall in Prague.
Johnny Depp, Tim Burton’s muse and star of films such as Edward Scissorhands, Sweeney Todd and the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, has had a stunning fall from grace since a High Court Judge ruled that he had been violent towards his then-wife, Amber Heard, despite his denials. Whilst this has undoubtedly had an impact on his future career prospects, for many, it does not seem to have diminished their fondness for his body of work.
It is difficult to reconcile the affection you have for an artist’s films, music and art after their conviction or wrongdoing, with the disgust or disdain you may feel towards that artist for their criminal behaviour.
It is arguably easier when an actor is playing a character (whereby the very nature of films you have to immerse yourself in the character, rather than the actor portraying them) than when that artist’s art is inextricably linked to who they are as a person.
Our perceptions of an artist’s guilt, or their culpability for a crime, can also affect how easily we can separate the art from the accusations that the artist faces.
For instance, Michael Jackson was accused several times over the course of his career of offences involving children, even facing trial for charges including child molestation in 2005, but was never convicted. Notwithstanding his passing in 2009, he retains the title of Prince of Pop, and is described on Wikipedia as ‘one of the most significant cultural figures of the 20th century’.
Even when artists are convicted, they can still have their defenders, and it is worth bearing in mind that if Judges and juries were infallible, there would never be any miscarriages of justice.
Likewise, being acquitted of an offence is not always enough to convince the public that the alleged perpetrator did not commit the crime – the story of former sportsman and actor OJ Simpson being a notable case in point – and accusations alone can still end careers.
Consequently, whilst many of us would like to be able to separate the artist from their art, and often endeavour to do so, especially if it is an artist whose work we particularly enjoyed or admired before their misdemeanours or crimes came to light, for others, it is a truly impossible feat.
It is a completely different scenario where a person’s criminality is known before they find fame – or, more appropriately, infamy.
Shockingly, but not unsurprisingly (given the obvious fascination with real-life crime, as demonstrated by the numerous Ted Bundy documentaries on Netflix and Amazon Prime), there are a number of people who have a macabre interest in offenders’ art, after their convictions.
There are specialist sites, like Serial Killers Ink and Murder Museum, that sell paintings, letters and drawings by serial killers like ‘Night Stalker’ Richard Ramirez and Charles Manson, and there’s even a name for this form of art – murderabilia.
Serial killer, John Wayne Gacy’s artwork is still fetching up to $175,000 at auction, over 25 years since his execution.
Some purchase items for research, such as police forces buying letters for handwriting analysis, and university lecturers buying letters from ‘school shooters’ for research projects.
For others, the taboo nature of this art is part of the appeal. Some buy serial killer art as grotesque conversation pieces.
In these instances, the art is intrinsically linked to the artist, and impossible to separate.
Whether we as a society can separate an artist from their art is truly subjective, and turns upon the facts of each individual case.
Whether we want to separate the artist from their art is also an important factor.
‘Cancel culture’ encourages a black and white approach, but in reality, there is a multitude of shades of grey in almost every scenario.
The context of a crime or allegation can be a huge factor – for instance, Michael Jackson’s famously troubled upbringing, personal struggles and his often childlike persona attracted sympathy (even before the popularity of his music was taken into consideration), whereas others accused of sex offences have been immediately ostracised – Kevin Spacey being a notable case in point.
Public opinion can also influence people’s feelings, or make them afraid to voice a view that goes against the social media or mainstream media majority – as the #muterkelly campaign took hold, R Kelly’s supporters became noticeably less vocal.
It seems that we, as a society, are becoming less forgiving of those convicted or accused of crimes than we once were. This could be viewed as a good thing, as it demonstrates that just because someone has celebrity status, that does not give them a ‘free pass’ to act as they please, with total disregard for the consequences. However, it could also be seen negatively, with ‘cancel culture’ seemingly removing an accused’s right to respond to the allegations made against them, and eroding that individual’s opportunities for rehabilitation and redemption.
Whether we can separate the artist from their art is a question that we have asked ourselves for many years and, considering the complexities of the issues involved, it is clearly one we will continue trying to answer for many years to come.
Written by Michelle Peet
By day, Michelle Peet is a parent and lawyer.
By night, when her toddler finally falls asleep, she is an aspiring (i.e. largely unpublished, but ever hopeful) author of children’s picture books, adult’s short stories and the occasional magazine article.
Three of her favourite things are pizza, Las Vegas, and Christmastime.
