Americans, never mind their reputation, care deeply about art. They may not risk much for it, but they’re eager to believe that someone else would risk everything. If you doubt this, you only have to consider Chris Burden, the West Coaster whose sinister, bumbling stunts bought him a FastPass to fame, followed by a free pass for life.
People seemed a little afraid not to take him seriously, and seem so still. There he is in the September 2, 1973, edition of the Times, staring out from under a ski mask like a robber about to burst into a bank. He was only two years out of U.C. Irvine’s M.F.A. program, but already he’d fired a pistol at a Boeing 747 taking off from LAX; spent five days in a locker with two plastic bottles (one for drinking, one for pissing); and, on November 19, 1971, been shot in the left arm by a friend. The title of the Times article was, inevitably, “He Got Shot—For His Art,” although that was a little misleading. The plan had been for Burden to walk away with a scratch and a Band-Aid, and it was bad aim, not bold artistry, that landed him in the hospital.
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