125th and Broadway, 9pm on a Tuesday night. The hush of dusk is just behind us as we pull up to a red light at the intersection.
To our right, a dilapidated box truck covered with hieroglyphics of graffiti. Dirty and timeworn. The back is open, but nothing is being loaded or unloaded. Inside, we suddenly register, is a magical forest, a glistening waterfall. We can’t believe our eyes. The crack photographer Suzanne Levine, tucked in the back sea, takes out her camera.
Gil says, Get out, you’ll get a better picture. It’s okay, she says. It’s fine this way.
And it is. (Check out my mug in the rear view.) A drive-by photo shoot in the New York City night is the perfect way to capture an artwork by, it turns out, one of the greatest creative minds and pranksters of the age.
Banksy was here.
Banksy has been turning up all over New York recently, though he’s headquartered elsewhere, with his mysterious stencilled message graffiti and now… this. A grungy delivery truck complete with a motorized waterfall and plastic butterflies. He was quoted today as saying, I should probably be somewhere more happening like Moscow or Beijing, but the pizza is better here.
The truck will make a stop at dusk each evening, but no one knows exactly where, or for how long, just as no one knows just about anything for real about Banksy. But if you want to listen to a story about the Garden of Eden in a box truck, you can call 1-800-656-4271 and press 3# at the prompt.
Manhattan comes through, just something we rolled up on in the gloaming.