A fresh Banksy mural spotted in west London, with a twin image briefly appearing by Centre Point, is being read as a pointed Christmas-season reminder of who gets overlooked in the city.
London has woken up to a familiar kind of street-level commotion: a new Banksy, a small crowd, phones held aloft, and a location suddenly rebranded from everyday to destination. The latest work appeared above garages on Queen’s Mews in Bayswater, showing two bundled-up children lying down and looking up at the sky — one arm raised, as if pointing out something only they can see. The artist confirmed the Bayswater piece by posting images on Instagram, effectively turning an anonymous stencil into an official London moment.
What makes this one feel particularly London, particularly now, is the way it arrived with an echo. A near-identical image was also seen at the base of Centre Point by Tottenham Court Road. That second mural has not been formally confirmed by Banksy — and in the usual way of these things, uncertainty became part of the story: Is it a copy, a companion, or a decoy? Either way, the pairing pulled the city’s attention between two very different backdrops: a quiet mews street in W2 and one of the capital’s busiest pedestrian pinch-points.
The subject matter, though, points in one direction. Commentators have interpreted the image as a statement on homelessness, specifically child homelessness, at a time of year when London’s inequality can feel sharper, not softer. The choice of Centre Point as an initial (or at least associated) location matters in that reading. The tower has long carried a symbolic association with London’s homelessness crisis: an iconic building once criticised for standing empty while need grew around it, and linked in public memory to the origin story of Centrepoint, the youth homelessness charity.
The Bayswater location adds its own tension. Queen’s Mews is close enough to Central London’s Christmas churn to feel connected, but just tucked away enough to encourage the ritual of seeking out a Banksy — the slow wander, the small pilgrimage, the “is this it?” moment at the end of a street. The contrast is almost the point: a work about being unseen appearing in places where looking is the main activity.
That contradiction sits at the heart of the Banksy effect in London. A mural can be simultaneously a public artwork and a high-value asset-in-waiting; a piece can draw attention to hardship while also generating footfall, photos and, inevitably, questions about protection. The city has seen this pattern before: the rush to view, the concern over vandalism, the sudden appearance of boards or barriers, and the debate about whether preserving a message changes it.
What’s left, after the photos, is the question the image appears designed to raise: in a city trained to look up — at towers, lights, screens, spectacle — who is left lying on the ground, staring at the sky, waiting to be noticed?