This week, London awoke to a new mural by Banksy - a work that has already set the art world, legal circles and social media alight. Painted directly onto the Queen's Building of the Royal Courts of Justice, the mural depicts a judge in full traditional wig and robes raising a gavel over a protester lying prone on the ground. In the protester's hand: a placard smeared with vivid red paint, doubling as blood. Banksy confirmed authorship through his Instagram, captioning it simply: "Royal Courts Of Justice. London."
Within hours, court officials moved quickly to cover the work with plastic sheeting and barriers, later announcing plans for its removal. The Queen's Building is Grade II listed, and authorities framed the action as protection of heritage - yet the speed with which the mural was silenced is itself part of the story.
The mural arrives in the wake of the UK government's decision to proscribe Palestine Action as a terrorist organisation, sparking widespread demonstrations and significant numbers of arrests. For many commentators, Banksy's image functions as direct commentary: the gavel of the law brought down not on abstract crime but on a body of protest.
As with much of Banksy's work, interpretation is layered. The judge's elevated pose suggests not impartiality but violence; the protester's vulnerable position underscores the unevenness of power. The mural demands viewers confront uncomfortable questions: Who is being protected? Who is being punished? What is the role of law when dissent is at stake?
This is not the first time Banksy has tested the boundaries of legality. From painting on the West Bank separation wall to his early guerrilla interventions in the British Museum and Tate Britain, his practice has always probed the line between what is permitted and what is condemned.
By choosing the Royal Courts of Justice - the symbolic heart of the British legal system - Banksy sharpens his critique. This is not a random wall or a sidestreet stencil; it is a direct address to the architecture of authority. The placement transforms the work into an act of civil intervention rather than just a painting.
Authorities responded predictably swiftly. The Royal Courts of Justice complex is an icon of Victorian Gothic architecture, and officials were keen to emphasise their duty to preserve the listed fabric of the building. Yet the language of "protection" in this context also resonates uncomfortably with the mural's theme. Protecting the stonework meant erasing the image; protecting heritage meant silencing a contemporary artistic voice.
In a twist of irony, the very act of concealment has amplified the mural's global impact. Images and footage of the covered wall - ghostly plastic sheeting stretched over the figure of the judge - now circulate almost as widely as the mural itself.
For collectors and the art market, Banksy remains a fascinating paradox. His street interventions are ephemeral, often swiftly removed, painted over or even chiselled out for resale. Yet they are also some of the most valuable and sought-after works in the contemporary art market. Pieces like Girl with Balloon or the infamous self-shredding Love is in the Bin at Sotheby's demonstrate how his critique of commodification coexists with intense demand.
This latest mural at the Royal Courts of Justice may never be available to private collectors - indeed, it may already be lost beneath restoration work. But the story of its appearance and erasure fuels the mythology that underpins Banksy's market power. Each new intervention strengthens his position not merely as an artist but as a cultural phenomenon whose works embody urgency, defiance and risk.
At Andipa, we have always emphasised that art is not a commodity first and foremost: it is a journey, an encounter with meaning. Banksy's mural this week illustrates this point with clarity. Whether or not the physical work survives, the intervention itself reshapes conversations around protest, justice and power.
For collectors of Banksy's prints and editions, this episode underscores the continuing relevance of his practice. His art remains a living, breathing commentary - not a relic of the 2000s but a dynamic voice addressing today's conflicts. Owning a Banksy edition is to participate in this ongoing story, a story written not only on paper and canvas but on the walls of our cities.
At Andipa Editions we are proud to have placed some of Banksy's most important works with collectors worldwide, from iconic prints like Rude Copper and Napalm to rare trial proofs and hand-finished editions. Our role is not simply to facilitate acquisition but to guide collectors in understanding the deeper context behind each piece - the "why" as much as the "what."
This week's mural reminds us why Banksy continues to resonate: because his art confronts, unsettles and reframes the way we see society. Whether painted on a wall that will soon be scrubbed clean or preserved within a frame, his works embody a restless energy that challenges complacency. Banksy's mural at the Royal Courts of Justice may soon vanish beneath the hand of conservators, but its image - and the questions it poses - will not be so easily erased. It is a reminder that art can intervene directly in public life, forcing us to confront difficult truths in spaces where they are least expected.
For collectors, it is also a reminder of the urgency and vitality that makes Banksy one of the defining artists of our time.
