Maurizio Cattelan’s iconic conceptual art piece “Comedian,” a banana duct-taped to a wall, has once again stirred headlines—this time in France, where a visitor at the Pompidou-Metz museum took a literal bite out of the artwork. While this might sound like an absurd prank or a bold performance, it is, in fact, only the latest incident involving the world’s most infamous banana.
What makes this story all the more surreal is the artist’s reaction: Cattelan was not exactly angry or shocked that the fruit was eaten—he was merely disappointed that the individual left the banana peel and duct tape behind. The piece was quickly restored, and the incident serves as another chapter in the bizarre, ongoing narrative that surrounds this controversial work.
The story reveals much more than just an unconventional interaction with an art exhibit. It sheds light on questions about what constitutes art, the unpredictability of human behavior in cultural spaces, and the inherent absurdity of placing immense value on perishable items.
With the artwork reportedly worth $6.2 million, reactions from the public and critics alike continue to be divided between admiration, bewilderment, and mockery. And Cattelan, true to form, remains unapologetically enigmatic in both his work and responses.
The Banana That Broke the Art World
The origins of “Comedian” can be traced back to the 2019 Art Basel show in Miami Beach, where Maurizio Cattelan first unveiled the piece. It was presented with little more than a fresh banana affixed to a white wall using a strip of duct tape. The simplicity of the installation drew immediate attention, with visitors crowding around the display, and social media lighting up with commentary.
At first glance, it seemed more prank than masterpiece. Yet its asking price—originally $120,000—sparked disbelief, then fascination. The message behind the piece, according to Cattelan, was a biting critique of the modern art market’s speculative nature and its detachment from the real-life struggles of working artists.
“Comedian” instantly became a cultural flashpoint. To some, it symbolized everything wrong with contemporary art—a market driven more by status and spectacle than substance. To others, it was a brilliant satire, an artwork that exposed the absurdity of putting astronomical value on the most mundane object imaginable. Regardless of where one stood, there was no denying its impact.
Read : Unbelievable! Banana Purchased for $0.35 Was Auctioned for $6.2 Million
It made headlines worldwide, ignited debates about the commodification of art, and ultimately became a sort of cultural meme in itself. The first public consumption of the artwork happened soon after its debut. Performance artist David Datuna famously walked up to the banana at Art Basel, pulled it off the wall, and ate it, declaring that he was simply hungry.
Student eats artwork of a banana duct-taped to a museum wall because 'he was hungry' https://t.co/jnfnbTR0m3 pic.twitter.com/LzslDSlW0E
— CNN (@CNN) May 2, 2023
His act was dubbed “Hungry Artist,” and while the gallery quickly replaced the banana, Datuna’s intervention was seen as an extension of the original piece’s provocative message. Interestingly, Maurizio Cattelan did not object. This response set the tone for future incidents—such as the latest one in France—and reinforced the idea that the banana’s fate was as fluid and conceptual as the meaning behind it.
A Banana Devoured Again—This Time in France
Fast forward to July 2025. The Pompidou-Metz museum in eastern France had been hosting Cattelan’s work when a visitor once again succumbed to temptation. The banana, worth millions, was bitten into and eaten. According to museum staff, security responded quickly and calmly, and the piece was restored within minutes. As per Cattelan’s instructions, the banana is regularly replaced due to its perishable nature—meaning no permanent harm was done to the piece, at least in the eyes of those curating it.
What caught public attention, however, was Maurizio Cattelan’s reaction. Rather than anger or outrage, the artist expressed mild disappointment that the visitor didn’t also consume the banana peel and, crucially, the tape. “Instead of eating the banana with its skin and duct tape, the visitor just consumed the fruit,” he lamented. This whimsical response, full of deadpan humor, seemed to reflect the artist’s deep understanding of absurdity and performance in the context of modern art.
The museum’s statement echoed a similarly relaxed attitude. A spokesperson confirmed the event, noting that the work was reinstalled quickly, and added, “As the fruit is perishable, it is regularly replaced according to instructions from the artist.” In other words, the piece is designed to be temporary, ever-changing, and potentially interactive—even edible.
This latest act of edible defiance fits into a broader pattern where audience interaction becomes part of the artwork’s legacy. Whether intended or not, the act of eating the banana shifts the line between observer and participant. Cattelan seems to welcome that ambiguity. After all, the banana is not the art itself—it’s a component in a broader commentary, a symbol open to interpretation and intervention.
Art, Spectacle, and the Cult of Absurdity
Cattelan’s broader body of work helps explain why he takes such a relaxed approach to disruptions. Known for his irreverent and provocative art, Cattelan is no stranger to controversy. One of his most notorious pieces is “America,” a fully functioning 18-carat solid gold toilet. Initially displayed at the Guggenheim Museum in New York, it was later offered to then-President Donald Trump during his first term in office—a bold gesture that, unsurprisingly, drew widespread media attention.
In 2020, the toilet was stolen from an exhibition in the United Kingdom, where it had been installed at Blenheim Palace—the birthplace of Winston Churchill. British authorities later convicted two men in connection with the theft. The toilet was disassembled, and to this day, none of the gold has been recovered. It was a heist worthy of a Hollywood script, yet it also served as a commentary on wealth, excess, and transience—core themes in much of Cattelan’s work.
What ties “America” and “Comedian” together is a sense of theatricality mixed with social critique. Both works utilize humor and absurdity to make serious points. In the case of the banana, it mocks the art market’s sometimes nonsensical valuations, while inviting the public to question what they perceive as valuable, artistic, or authentic.
By choosing something as universally mundane and transient as a banana, Maurizio Cattelan strips art down to its most elemental form, then reattaches meaning through context and price. In this light, the act of eating the banana doesn’t destroy the art—it completes it.
The audience becomes part of the narrative, and the piece’s evolution continues. That the latest visitor only ate the fruit and not the rest of the elements may say more about personal boundaries than artistic ones. For Cattelan, the tape and peel were just as critical. Their omission perhaps breaks the visual metaphor, or maybe just leaves the performance feeling incomplete in his eyes.
Ultimately, “Comedian” is not just a banana taped to a wall—it’s an ongoing, living commentary about value, absurdity, and the fragile line between reality and performance. It invites chaos, embraces impermanence, and, in doing so, cements itself as one of the most discussed art pieces of the 21st century.
Whether you consider it brilliant or bananas, one thing is certain: Maurizio Cattelan has succeeded in creating art that refuses to be ignored—art that’s both digestible and indigestible, depending on how far you’re willing to go.