Hordes of young people are speeding down the streets of a city, the police surrounds them, but the girls manage to break through strongly . The Mayor is hiding behind a tree and declares a state of emergency. The media announces more than 50 wounded. Is not a demonstration against cuts to the education system; they are Norwegian fans of Justin Bieber crossing Oslo trying to find him. They say it is love.
It is the love of the tween that stares every night at the poster of her idol, which she pounders for hours and kisses tenderly. It is the love of a tween that under her bed has a box full of magazines and shows’ entries, and that in her diary keeps her most precious treasure: the autograph (or its modern version, the tweet), a bit of idol just for herself. It is the ultimate unrequited love, pre – manufactured and packaged . We all know that this kind of love becomes inevitably in a fetish, in burning desire of possession, forever disrupting any rational notion of love and merchandise. The irreparable failure to possess the object only accentuates this desire of the idealized idol, ad infinitum. Covered with a mantle of perfection and piously revered.
But we also know that when idols get older and start to lose their youthful beauty, their gloss wears out, and posters are slowly replaced by more fresh faces. We don’t stop loving them, but we no longer want them, we only retain the pristine image of his years of vigor in some corner of our memory. The passage of time and decay are inevitable for everyone. The only possible solution is to freeze the idol, cover and keep him with incorruptible pristine gems preserved for posterity.Justin recently turned 19, he is exhausted, before he waved his bangs, now he takes a lot the shirt out. He also insults the paparazzi on the street, he is late to the shows and to the horror of some of his fans is rumored that the pop star smokes marijuana. It seems that Justin became finally the teen millionaire who is, and there is no press campaign or managers who can stop him. His fans still worship and devotedly defend him before the press and they encourage him by twitter when he faints on stage. But perhaps his star is beginning to turn, perhaps the teen does not want to sing love songs to bereaved girls of 12 years old.
Perhaps the pop utopia of the little neighbor next door who played guitar in the street, the one from the youtube videos that breaks hearts of thousands per second is coming to an end.
Therefore, these drawings are for you, the fans, so that you do not forget your idols, so that you do not let them die, so that you keep in your hearts in all its splendor and magnitude, with all its vitality, bright and unreachable forever.
From Luciana Rondolini with love. For the Beliebers, the Little Monsters, the Directioners,
the Smilers, the Lovatics, the Selenators, for fans of Britney and Rihanna, Madonna and even Michael Jackson’s fans Because everyone at some point in our lives were fans.
Ruby Gallery, Buenos Aires, March, 2013.