Famous Anonymous

“It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found.” –– Donald Winnicott

Saul Steinberg in Nose Mask by Irving Penn, 1966

Today, I’m writing as me –– publishing under my own name.

For the past couple years, these newsletters have been sent from “Kenshō Studio” (my company), which has been a way for me to remain somewhat anonymous. 

The tension between the safety of invisibility and the desire to be seen has been a core feature of my life. That foundation was laid early in childhood (a story I hope to share one day in a memoir) and the pattern has continued ever since. 

I always try to navigate the blurry line between privacy and secrecy, which shows up in all aspects of my life. As a friend, I’ve often taken the role of “listener”, and have been praised for my ability to give my undivided attention to others. Not taking too much space, but offering plenty of room has been a staple in most of my relationships. In many ways, it's safer to know more about people, than to be known. Your vulnerabilities can’t be used against you if no one is aware of them.  

It’s also been central to my work. I’ve written in the past about being a ‘Shadow Artist’ (a term coined by Julia Cameron). As an agent, magazine editor, and curator, I’ve often worked behind the scenes –– bathing in creative waters without taking the plunge myself. Hiding behind the creative curtain, participating without being seen, has always been my comfort zone. It has also been an esteem booster, helping other artists without the risk of the spotlight. 

Even when I did release my own projects, anonymity was central to the work I created. One of those projects was ‘Mystery Notes,’ which were hand-written quotes that I deposited all over New York City. I’d bring my secret stash of notes wherever I went and parse them out everywhere: on the walls of public bathrooms, in between sugar packets in diners, on subway seats and park benches. Each note was wax sealed, with an inscription in the front that said “Read Me” or “For You.” I never knew who would find them and they never found out who seeded these notes. Part of the magic of the project was the mystery of its providence. 

Anonymity is like an invisibility cloak. It gives one the power to move through the world seamlessly; slithering amongst various groups and situations, blending with both the background and foreground.

There is a unique freedom in being anonymous, especially as an artist. It enables the work to speak for itself, without considering the artist’s identity. It reminds me of a poem I’ve always loved by Nayyirah Waheed:

as a writer. if someone falls

in love with my work.

I know they have fallen

in love with my mind.having

no idea what my face

looks like. they chose my

mind. art may be the only

space a woman can be whole. and seen 

without being seen. 

A face and a name carries so much weight–– often too much— and can influence the opinions of an audience or reader. The work can be quickly dismissed when the gender, ethnicity, or physicality of the artist is revealed. It automatically adds a layer of bias to the work. 

I read a powerful French book last summer titled ‘Il n'y a pas de Ajar: Monologue contre l'Identité’ by Delphine Horvilleur. It tells the story of famous author Romain Gary, who after publishing over 22 books under his name, started writing under the pseudonym Émile Ajar. 

Over the years, there were suspicions that Ajar and Gary might be one and the same, but the rumors were never conclusive. In fact, many critics praised Émile Ajar’s writing, finding it superior to Romain Gary. As Gary’s popularity waned, his alter ego’s acclaim rose. 

It was only after his death that Gary revealed the true identity of Émile Ajar in a posthumous confession titled ‘The Life and Death of Émile Ajar.’ He mourned the fact that he hadn’t taken credit for his greatest works. 

Anonymity comes at a cost: the inability to take ownership, responsibility, and to even celebrate one’s achievements. It offers the illusion of belonging, while floating on the outskirts. It mimics participation without vulnerability.   

So for that reason, I’ve decided to own up to my work, and let myself be fully seen as I am. Moving forward Seven Senses will be published under my own name, instead of my company. It may seem like a small change, perhaps imperceptible to many, but to me it marks a big step. 

For this monthly deep dive, I was curious to research and highlight 7 artists who have walked the tightrope of fame and anonymity. As always, I offer you seven sensory explorations to SEE, HEAR, SMELL, TASTE, TOUCH, BALANCE and ENVISION.

In Joy,

Sabrina 

PS: I typically publish these thematic editions on the Full Moon but I was sick the past couple weeks so here we are… See you on the next lunar cycle!

SEE

John Creasey

I recently learned about John Creasey when reading Stephen King’s memoir ‘On Writing.’ I’m not a mystery novel reader myself, so I was unfamiliar with Creasy’s work, who wrote 562 books under 28 pseudonyms. 

Born in a working class family, he left school at the age of 16 to become a writer. For fourteen years his submissions were unanimously rejected, accumulating 743 rejection slips. Undeterred by the rejections, he persevered and finally received his first acceptance in 1930 for his book ‘Seven Times Seven.’

Following his first novel, he married Margaret Elizabeth Cooke and used his wife's name to write and publish fourteen romantic novels, starting with ‘For Love's Sake’ (1934).

Since Creasey was so highly productive –– claiming that he could write a book in two weeks and still have half the day to play cricket –– he didn’t want to flood the market with a new novel every month, so he started writing under many pseudonyms. He continued writing relentlessly, under various guises, until his death in 1973.

HEAR

Daft Punk

Listen on YouTube or Spotify

In 1992, a French rock band named Darlin’ was reviewed as “daft punky trash” by a music critic. It amused its members who decided to paraphrase it and use it as the name for the electronic act they launched the following year.

In the early days, the duo wore black bags on their heads and then Halloween masks. Then in 2001, they started sporting their now iconic robot masks for the first time. Ultimately, they wanted to separate their professional and personal lives, and rebel against the way the media fixates on musicians as celebrities rather than focus on the music.

After 28 years of international fame and success, Daft Punk decided to split up in 2021 and revealed their identity as Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter. They shared in interviews the benefits and detriments of anonymity. 

“When we created these robot characters, it seemed to become part of performance art (...) Anonymity initially stems from a desire for discretion and a lot of humility.” They also commented how anonymity “allowed for protection and seclusion, which was practical but also created a certain distance.” 

One of the members, Thomas Bangalter, released a solo album ‘Mythologies’ in 2023 and considered whether he’d continue operating in disguise but decided against it:

“​​After hiding for 20 years, the message about intentions and freedom has been conveyed. It was just an artistic gesture, and anonymity was crucial during the existence of these characters, creating an oscillation between reality and fiction. It protected me, but it could also lead to a kind of isolation, which isn’t particularly pleasant. I did consider it, but ultimately, I realized it wasn’t at the center of my concerns.”

SMELL

Anonim perfume

Available online

Anonim is a brand of perfume created by a well-known scent designer who wanted to release a line anonymously. The goal was to challenge “his audience to perceive the aromatic creations as they are, free from any bias or comparisons to his previous works.”

The line includes 3 perfumes, all based on ambergris (an ingredient I’ve featured here). When the company launched, they marketed themselves by sending their trio set to various perfume influencers, along with costume masks and a letter explaining the concept.

Hay baked hot pockets with hidden valley bacon ranch spheres and a puree of whole wheat zoodles

TASTE

Chef Jacques La Merde

When the instagram page @ChefJacquesLaMerde (no longer active) started gaining traction, everyone wondered who was behind this playful and odd account, which poked fun at foodie culture by posting pictures of elegantly plated junk food. 

Finally, the secret was uncovered on a Top Chef episode in 2016, on the same night as a dinner organized at Puritan and Company in Boston. The dinner, reflective of the Instagram page, consisted of six junk food-inspired courses featuring gourmet pizza rolls, Franks RedHot fluid gel, and Doritos mayonnaise. 

Even though most had presumed that Chef Jacques La Merde was a man, many were surprised to learn that the account was the creation of Canadian chef Christina Flynn. She explained that her process for creating the Instagram popular dishes entailed going to her local bodega and trying things she’d never had before (spam, pork rinds, canned vegetables, etc), or something that gave her “a good hit of 80s nostalgia” such as bubbletape, lik-m-aid, drumsticks. 

When asked why she started the prank, the chef explained:  “I thought it would be fun. You can’t just eat kale all the time. And you can’t just be serious all the time, either.”

Even though many speculated that she was making a statement about food trends or junk food, she responded:  “My goal was never to make anyone feel bad, or second guess what they do, it was just to be ridiculous. A lot of outlets have asked me to weigh in on overused trends, or make some kind of damning statement about what's played out. Who am I to judge?”

Maison Martin Margiela 1996 S/S

TOUCH

Martin Margiela

Watch ‘Martin Margiela: In His Own Words’ documentary

Available on YouTube and GooglePlay

Being anonymous in the world of fashion, which typically thrives on spotlight and the cult of personality, is quite an anomaly. Yet Martin Margiela managed to do so his entire career, refusing to partake in interviews nor make any public appearances. 

A Belgian native who graduated from Royal Academy of Fine Arts Antwerp in 1980, he worked as Jean Paul Gaultier’s assistant before creating his own fashion house in 1988. He launched his craft collection by creating clothing from recycled materials, used clothes, and incorporating plastic packaging. His motto was “Nothing is lost, everything is transformed”.

Anonymity was woven into various aspects of his fashion line. His models were masked, as to not be recognized. And the label on his clothes were white and nameless, as an anti-branding act. 

He wanted the focus to remain on the artistry of his designs, rather than the commercial aspect of clothing. He also reimagined everyday objects, elevating them to fine art. His first women’s collection included a leather butcher’s apron designed as an evening gown, and jackets made from old tulle. His most iconic piece, the “tabi” boot, was a reinterpretation of the traditional Japanese sock that separates the big toe from the others.

In 2018, a retrospective of his work took place at the Palais Galliera in Paris, showcasing his incredible 30-year career. And in 2019, Reiner Holzemer directed a documentary offering a rare glimpse into the designer’s world. 

Mixed Media art by Connor Brothers (2015)

BALANCE

Connor Brothers

Anonymity in visual art can be a legal protection, as is often the case with graffiti or street artists, such as Banksy. But sometimes, donning a new identity is about creating a different backstory.

I wasn’t familiar with the work of The Connor Brothers until recently. The duo is known for their paintings and prints, inspired by 1950’s advertising and Hollywood starlets. 

When The Connor Brothers first emerged on the art scene, they presented themselves as Franklyn and Brendan Connor, and claimed to be twins who had escaped a clandestine cult in the US called ‘The Family.’

They took the art world by storm, through their story and their artworks, leading to immediate sold-out shows and appearing at major auctions alongside the likes of Banksy and Damien Hirst. But when the duo was scheduled to have exhibits at Bonhams and Christie’s in 2014, they decided to come clean with their true identity.

It turns out they were neither brothers, nor cult ex-members, but former British art dealers James Golding and Mike Snelle. They confessed that their false identity was motivated by ‘a cloak to cover the shame.’ They had met when Golding was addicted to heroin and Snelle was suffering from mental health problems. But eventually the pair felt more comfortable to shed their persona and embrace their story and the popularity of their art. 

ENVISION

Rrose Sélavy

In 1920, Rrose Sélavy made her first public appearance, and shortly after started being a regular subject of photographer Man Ray. 

It turns out Sélavy was actually Marcel Duchamp’s female alter-ego. The name is a play of words, which is meant to sound like “Eros, C’est la Vie” meaning “Love, that’s life.” 

Duchamp loved wordplay and was also keen on the tradition of androgyny and gender bending. His feminine pseudonym was less about trickery, and more an attempt to explore ideas about identity and self-representation. 

Duchamp attributed a number of his conceptual works to Sélavy, including the 1926 short film, Anemic Cinema, and the readymade Boîte-en-valise. He also affixed her image to the perfume bottle Eau de Voilette (1921). He also made references to his female alter ego in works such as 

‘Why Not Sneeze Rrose Sélavy?’ featuring a bird cage filled with white marble forms in the shape of sugar cubes.

Rrose Sélavy also inspired other artists, such as the Surrealist poet Robert Desnos who penned over 200 sayings and puns from the perspective of Sélavy. He imagined the fictional character as a divine figure, writing “Rrose Sélavy maintains that the honey of her brain is a wonder that sours the spleen of heaven” and “Rrose Sélavy on her trapeze appeases the goddesses’ miseries.”

Duchamp would also compile his own series of Sélavy aphorisms in a limited-edition book titled ‘Poils et coups de pieds en tous genres’ (Hair and Kicks of All Kinds) and credited the book to Rrose Sélavy.