Although many discussions on Díaz begin with his partnership with Jean-Michel Basquiat in the late 1970s, he still has something real to say.
The online documentary series “Time Decorated” argues that Basquiat was the connection between the bebop and hip-hop worlds.
Basquiat’s oeuvre can now be said to constitute a Black male wall of fame, one exploding with markers of the fraught conquests, Pyrrhic victories, and traumatic vicissitudes of Black male being-and-nothingness in America.
The latest from Mattel suggests another 20th-century artist has become just a recognizable style easily packaged for kids.
Our Friend, Jean, an exhibition of ephemera left behind, given to, or swapped with people who knew Basquiat prior to his extraordinary fame, offers a tiny but intimate window into his life.
A time capsule that holds the legendary artist in immortal youth, the cult classic also preserves a certain New York, which has now changed beyond recognition.
What happens when an artist’s mythologized life distracts from his work?
Read this 3,700-word, hyper-critical letter discussing the work of Philip Guston, Anselm Kiefer, Nell Blaine, Bill King, Arthur Dove, Marsden Hartley, and several others: “Everyone seems to be proud of having no go, no oomph.”
Brant has cogently influenced the legacy of Basquiat on several fronts, but the artist and his work remain gloriously defiant.
Sara Driver’s new documentary Boom for Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michel Basquiat wants to bring the young art star back down to earth, but often can’t help positioning hovering him above.
With Basquiat’s work transformed into an overhyped commodity, it can seem difficult to assess it for ourselves.
The painting will feature in the museum’s One Basquiat exhibition, January 26–March 11.