His works have struck, moved, and at times even outraged. What matters most, however, is that now every action he takes, every work he creates, makes news. As it should be when we're talking about contemporary art — the only kind capable of capturing the moment and transforming it into history. We're talking about Salvatore Benintende, known as Tvboy, a street artist from Milan who has adopted Barcelona as his home.

We all have fixed in our minds the kiss between politicians Matteo Salvini and Luigi Di Maio, created at the time of the formation of the "yellow-green" government. Or the migrant child on a paper boat, school report in hand (entitled European parliament school report). Works that lasted only a short time, but which have rightfully entered the history of Italian street art — and beyond. Just days before the release of the book La calle es mi museo, we caught up with Tvboy and asked him to tell us more about the role and meaning of his art.

How, when and why Tvboy?
It all started in 1996. I was sixteen and in Milan I was seeing the first graffiti by Dumbo and Noce. Noce, in particular, did graffiti on top of buildings. That's where I fell in love with street art. But then, while studying at university — at the Politecnico di Milano, in the design faculty — I came into contact with the first street artists. There was a certain Abominevole who put up giant posters; I got in touch with various Italian street artists, but also foreign ones, especially from Barcelona.

Then during a trip I got to know the whole local street art scene, like the London Police and many others. In those years it was common to have a character as your signature, and I had invented Tvboy because, to my mind, it summed up our generation — the generation that grew up watching a lot of television. Today perhaps kids are more of a Smartphone-boy.

You're an Italian who moved to Spain. What was behind that choice?
Mostly personal reasons. It's true that I moved for work because I found a job in Barcelona at a publishing house that produced snowboard and skateboard magazines, but actually the decision was made for love. I followed my partner, who is now my wife, and we have a daughter. And also because Barcelona is a beautiful city — very modern, Mediterranean and sunny.

Your best-known works have featured political subjects: Salvini, Di Maio, Trump, Thunberg. But also climate, migrants, Covid-19.
Politics is an inspiration. I choose to speak about contemporary life because, to be contemporary, art must speak of our times — but also because it is a document for the future. If you analyse art history, all artists spoke of their own period, from Vincent Van Gogh with "The Potato Eaters" to Pablo Picasso with "Guernica", and even going further back, in Diego Velásquez's paintings you can see the clothing of the era. So the important thing is that art speaks of its own time, and for that reason politics too is important, because it's right in front of everyone's eyes. But in reality I don't make political art — I make satirical art. That is to say, I like to strike and provoke a little, to generate debate and dialogue, and in this way to encourage people to ask themselves questions.

How do you feel in the moment when your work is removed?
It's something I used to suffer greatly over, especially when "the kiss between Salvini and Di Maio" happened — I was also somewhat frightened by how swiftly the Police acted. But then it's something I've learned to accept, because it means that in some way you've hit the mark, you've provoked, and obviously when you do this kind of work there are reactions like that. I also noticed that sometimes when a work is censored it acquires even more power — a greater power of denunciation — because the act of concealing it makes it even more visible, also thanks to new media and the possibility that it continues to exist on social networks, on YouTube and other multimedia platforms.

More broadly, how have the cities where you've expressed your art received you?
Some have understood me. Milan is a very receptive city in this respect, also thanks to its mayor Beppe Sala. I've noticed that my works there are generally left where they are. In Rome, on the other hand, only the one depicting Virginia Raggi as Wonder Woman has "survived", while all the others have been removed. But there are also other cities that respect my art, and Barcelona is certainly one of them. Mayor Ada Colau wrote a short introduction for the book that came out on 2 June, entitled "La strada è il mio museo". Then also in Italy, the city of Sorrento hosted me to create a mural that was subsequently inaugurated by the mayor. And then Palermo, a city I hold dear because it's my home city. There are certainly exceptions and pockets of enlightenment. Even the mayor of Taormina had "Santa Carola" restored after it had been removed by a Lega sympathiser. So there are positive signs — there is hope that this kind of art will be appreciated.

What can be admired of your art around Italy?
Novate Milanese is the city I grew up in, but I've done almost nothing there because I've always preferred my work to be highly visible, so I would go to Milan. In Palermo there's "Santa Rosalia". I can't reveal my future destinations in advance — also because the coronavirus isn't helping much in that regard — but without doubt my art lives on the element of surprise, so giving a preview would strip it of all its impact. What I can say is that I'm working on a very important exhibition project that will take place in 2021 and will represent a significant milestone in my career.