Welcome to LOVR Atelier. In this bi-monthly series, we worship the artists who revolutionised the world around them – those who left a permanent impression upon the zeitgeist.

This instalment brings us into the searing, defiant world of Jean-Michel Basquiat, an artist whose canvases feel like living organisms, brimming with culture, brilliance, and a yearning to be witnessed – to be understood.

The Poet from the Pavements

Born in Brooklyn in 1960 to a Haitian father and Puerto Rican mother, Jean-Michel Basquiat was a child of two cultures, two histories. He was a prodigy, renowned for devouring knowledge; he was an autodidact who read Gray’s Anatomy and listened to bebop with equal reverence.

His beginnings as a street artist under the alias SAMO© were poetic and cryptic: graffiti epigrams scrawled across SoHo buildings like riddles from an urban prophet. These early works transcended mere vandalism. Through guerilla tactics, these early works challenged the art elite through their undeniable truths.

Basquiat’s meteoric rise from street corners to gallery walls was both unprecedented and uneasy. Critics and collectors were drawn to his intensity but often failed to understand the cultural codes embedded in his art: the Black body, colonial history, commodification, jazz, boxing, sainthood, and survival.

Icons Collide

In 1983, Basquiat began collaborating with Andy Warhol, the reigning king of pop art; this relationship was equally symbiotic and strained. Warhol offered Basquiat access to the inner sanctums of the art world; Basquiat offered Warhol something he hadn’t had in years: urgency.

Together, they created a body of work that was chaotic, challenging, and often misunderstood. Their canvases became visual conversations (sometimes arguments) between two artists from opposite ends of culture and class. Where Warhol was cool and detached, Basquiat was searing and raw.

These collaborations were not without criticism. Many accused Warhol of exploiting Basquiat, while others saw them as equals in a shared experiment: two myth-makers painting towards immortality.

An Irreparable Rupture

In 1988, at just 27 years old, Jean-Michel Basquiat died of a heroin overdose. He had produced more than a thousand paintings and drawings, each one a coded diary of his reckoning with race, fame, trauma, and the immense pressure of being a prodigy. His death was an irreparable rupture.

Among those who attended Basquiat’s funeral were key art-world figures who had championed him during his meteoric rise – people who had witnessed his brilliance firsthand and recognised that with his passing, an era of explosive, raw, and unfiltered expression had come to a sudden, tragic end.

Andy Warhol’s close associates were in attendance, including gallerist Bruno Bischofberger; this was a sombre acknowledgment of the profound impact Basquiat had made in such a short time. Artist Keith Haring, a friend and contemporary, mourned the loss deeply, later commemorating Basquiat in his own work.

The art world had failed to fully appreciate Basquiat during his short life. However, in the years since, Basquiat’s work has become a cornerstone of contemporary culture. His paintings now command record-breaking prices. His influence endures through fashion, music, film, and the new generation of artists who see themselves in his wit, his rhythm, and his truth. In this way, both Basquiat and his work are still pulsing, still urgent, still alive.

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