Jean-Michel Basquiat was one of the brightest American artists of the 20th century who had a tragically short life. Basquiat, the great Neo-Expressionist artist, died in his home at the age of just 27. During his life, he struggled with dysfunctional family dynamics, imposter syndrome, pressure from the art world, and severe drug addiction. Read on to learn more about Jean-Michel Basquiat’s death and the circumstances that led to it.

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Rise to Fame

Born into a Haitian-Puerto Rican family in 1960, Basquiat was a troublesome child who nonetheless had a profound interest in art. His family never supported it, the only exception was his mother who was institutionalized due to severe depression when Basquiat was still a child. Generally, his relationship with the rest of the family was tense due to his father’s physical and emotional abuse.

Despite Basquiat’s claims of growing up in a ghetto, his family led a middle-class life with stable income and property. However, he never felt truly connected to their lifestyle. At the age of 15, he was kicked out of his home for unknown reasons. He quit school and soon turned into a street artist and performer.

His unique artistic style blended graffiti, references to art history and politics, cartoons, social commentary, and many other influences. He became a star almost instantly when he was 21 years old, and he did not handle this well. The pressures of celebrity and expectations of continuous performance affected his mental health and led him to a heroin addiction. Basquiat died in his New York loft at 27, leaving hundreds of works that now go for millions of dollars.

Basquiat & Andy Warhol

Andy Warhol was perhaps the most prominent influence in Basquiat’s life. The two met when Basquiat had already gained a reputation as a promising artist, and Warhol was slowly losing his relevance in the art world. The two artists revived each other’s work and directed each other. Once, Basquiat told his father that he made Andy take a brush into his hands for the first time in twenty years.

In February 1987, Andy Warhol suddenly died while recovering from a rather simple gallbladder removal surgery. His heart failure was a surprise even for the doctors, as they noted that the artist had reacted to the surgery well. Basquiat was devastated by Warhol’s death. Apart from grief, he felt guilty for breaking their relationship two years before. Most art historians believe that the great Pop Artist’s death was the final blow to the already fragile psyche of Basquiat.

Warhol’s death was devastating for Basquiat even though the relationship between the two had gone sour after a joint art show in 1985. Some saw the unfavorable exhibition reviews as a primary motive for their fallout but most likely, the cause was Basquiat’s drug addiction that had spiraled out of control.

The Artist’s Addiction

Jean-Michel Basquiat had a long history of drug use and addiction that began before his rise to stardom. However, those who knew him well noticed that sudden access to unlimited funds was the catalyst for his destructive behavior. He spent recklessly on both drugs and useless luxurious items. Nonetheless, high-end consumerism was unable to fill the void in his soul, which was created by the pressures of the art world and drug use.

In some late conversations, Basquiat stated that he had begun using heroin only after Warhol’s death. This was never true, as Warhol himself reflected his concern with Basquiat’s use of heroin in 1983. Moreover, a friend saw Basquiat under the influence for the first time in 1980. The artist also said that he began using heroin to unlock his creativity like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Charlie Parker. He even stated he was ready to die if it was necessary to leave great art behind.

Basquiat’s Rehabilitation Attempts

For a long while, Basquiat sabotaged all attempts to get clean. His mood swings became unbearable even to those who were used to his character, his appearance changed drastically, with his skin covered in sores, and his teeth falling out. Basquiat acknowledged the symptoms but not the cause: he went to see a dermatologist to heal his skin, but verbally and sometimes physically attacked those who tried to instill the idea of quitting heroin into him. He once complained to a friend that, while the art critics spoke of drugs killing him, they also degraded art he made in a sober state.

In the summer of 1988, Basquiat retreated into his Hawaii home to get away from the art world and social pressure. He came back energized and seemingly ready to change his life. Enthusiastically, he told his friends he was going to quit the artworld and focus on becoming a writer or maybe, ditch the creative domain altogether and open a tequila business in Hawaii. He also felt a re-established connection to his African roots, and booked a ticket to the Ivory Coast in order to unwind and cure his addiction using the help of local traditional healers.

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Last Show

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s last art show went on from April to June 1988 in the Vrej Baghoomian Gallery in New York. Baghoomian was quite a character: he was an Iranian with suspicious CIA ties, dubious reputation, and an art dealer cousin mostly known for defacing Picasso’s Guernica. Most of Baghoomian’s colleagues believed there was nothing to be shown, as Basquiat almost completely stopped painting, rapidly losing a battle with his addiction. Still, one work in the show looked as an omen to what was to come. A painting titled Riding with Death showed a dark-skinned figure riding a skeleton like a horse.

In 1994, Vrej Baghoomian attracted the FBI’s attention for selling five Basquiat fakes at an art fair in Paris. It was never stated if Baghoomian himself was aware of the forgery. The dealer also claimed 50% of the Basquiat estate as his last representative, but lost it to the Basquiat family and went bankrupt. For several years, Baghoomian was deemed missing, as he was hiding from his creditors, until he suddenly died in 2003.

August 12, 1988

During the last months of his life, Basquiat became a recluse. Still, those who were close to him made attempts to integrate him back into social life. Around 1 a.m. on August 12th, he was seen in a nightclub, having been almost forcefully brought there by his girlfriend, Kelly Inman. Kevin Bray, a close friend of Basquiat and future film director, noticed that the artist was under the influence despite his claims that he was avoiding drugs. Their last conversation ever was a short note that Bray left Basquiat before leaving. It stated: I DON’T WANT TO SIT AROUND HERE AND WATCH YOU DIE. At 5:30 PM, when Bray called Basquiat’s apartment, Kelly Inman went to check on the artist and found him unresponsive. Inman remembered feeling oddly relieved by the fact that all the suffering and anxiety were finally over.

The autopsy report listed the cause of death as a cocaine and heroin overdose. According to research, during his last attempt to quit heroin, Basquit lowered his body’s tolerance level. Thus, his usual high dose became lethal to him.

After Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Death

Basquiat’s death was not entirely unexpected for those who knew him, given his deteriorating state. Still, the short and tragic life of the artist and his steady path of self-destruction horrified the artistic community. Basquiat’s family, including the artist’s father who kicked him out of their family home, became responsible for Basquiat’s legacy, the authentication of works, sales, and copyright issues.

In 2009, a former Williamsburg drug dealer addressed the Basquiat’s estate claiming he used to sell heroin to the artist without knowing who he was. Allegedly, Basquiat introduced himself as Mike and, during one of his last visits in summer 1988, offered to paint the steel front door of the shop that served as coverage for the dealer’s main business. The dealer reluctantly agreed, and “Mike” left behind a strange red painting of a figure with devil’s horns. A decade later, the dealer recognized “Mike’s” face in an art book.

The dealer then approached Basquiat’s relatives to ask for authentication of the door painting. After long deliberation, the family and a group of experts ruled out that they did not believe the piece was a genuine Basquiat. Most likely, one of the reasons for refusal was the ethical side of the issue, as the family did not want the person indirectly responsible for Basquiat’s death to profit from his death. Several years later, famous artist Shepard Fairey, who, like Basquiat, originated from the street art scene, stated that the painting was an unfinished piece by painter Phil Frost.

This textile called chintz has an intriguing history. The prowess of the Indian textile industry was well established long before European encounters, and its mastery of craftsmanship and technical knowledge is what enticed Western consumers to indulge in this cotton fabric. From fashion to interior decoration, chintz integrated seamlessly into European life. Being traded within imperial networks when India was under colonial rule, this textile had major economic and cultural implications, transforming India’s textile industry from the nineteenth century onwards.

What Is Chintz?

Chintz refers to woven cotton fabric (calico) that is painted or printed with abstract and vegetative designs. The vibrant and fast colors of the designs are made using different kinds of natural dyes, such as indigo, along with metallic salts called ‘mordants’ that make the dye stick to the cloth, and resists such as wax that repel the color. Chintz has a long history in the Indian subcontinent, dating as far back as the 10th century, and perhaps even earlier. The word chintz, however, is more recent, coined in the early-17th century, deriving from the Hindi word chint, referring to spots or specks, alluding to the colorful patterns on plain cotton cloth.

Chintz was primarily produced in central India and on the western and eastern coasts. The multi-step process of producing this textile required both technical and artistic skill, which is why its production was limited to specific centers populated by artisans. Fabrics with hand-painted designs are known as kalamkari, literally translating to “pen work.” These were produced in specific regions in India, such as the town of Masulipatnam on the Coromandel Coast, located in the south-east, and the town of Sironj on the western coast.

On the other hand, the manufacture of printed chintz fabrics using wooden blocks was dominated by towns and villages along the western coast of India. The process of printing was naturally faster and resulted in large quantities of chintz produced in a shorter time, while hand-painting cotton cloth was a painstaking process that required skilled artisans and a longer production timeline. Despite the skill and knowledge required to produce chintz, the artisans generally worked under conditions of extreme poverty. The production was distributed among a group of people, usually joint families, where each member would specialize in a particular step of bringing this luxurious textile to life.

First European Encounters

While India had already been exporting chintz to parts of Asia and Africa, the beginning of its chintz trade with Europe began in 1498 when the Portuguese explorer Vasco de Gama reached the port of Calicut (present-day Kozhikode port) in Kerala, India, and brought Indian cottons back to Europe. By the early 1500s, the term pintado, meaning painted in Portuguese, began to be used to refer to Indian painted and printed cotton fabrics. Chintz soon became highly sought-after in other parts of Europe as an exotic product from the East. The depictions of flora and fauna from distant lands fascinated European consumers, but the determining factor in its popularity in Europe was the vibrancy as well as the fastness of its colors.

Over generations, Indian artisans had discovered specific materials and technical processes that enabled natural dyes to retain their brightness and intensity over long periods of time. One of these techniques was the use of resin to cover the cloth. The dyes were fixed on the cotton cloth using mordants, and resin allowed the mordant to remain limited to certain areas where the dyes would be added after washing the cloth. At the same time, resin allowed for a deeper intensity of colors. Along with technical knowledge, the geographical features of the Indian subcontinent facilitated the production of chintz—the climate was suitable for cotton cultivation and a variety of natural dyes could be extracted from plants.

At the same time, the chemical properties of certain Indian rivers where the cloth was washed were ideal to further intensify the effect of the dyes. Eventually, the demand for chintz in Europe grew as it established its position in daily fashion and furnishing, a phenomenon that later transformed the fate of this industry as well as colonial history.

The Craze of Chintz in Europe

Chintz became a textile staple in Britain and France in the 17th century, largely used for furnishing textiles, such as curtains, wallpapers, hangings, and bedding, as well as clothing. For the latter, chintz fabric was fashioned into gowns, coats, jackets, men’s dressing gowns, and even children’s clothing. The reason that chintz found a potent market in Europe was due to its diversity in designs, comprising geometric or floral patterns, as well as a variety of colors.

Over the course of this century, European domestic interiors were dominated by chintz. An example of its popularity in furnishing can be seen in the maternity room on the second floor of Petronella Dunois’ Dolls’ house from the 17th century that is covered in chintz wallpaper. Further, bedspreads and palampores (bed covers) made of chintz took over British bedrooms, as can be seen in the bedroom in Houghton Hall.

While extremely popular in Europe, chintz was still considered an ‘informal’ and feminine fabric compared to silk and velvet, which were traditionally used in European homes. This is why the former was largely confined to private rooms such as the bedroom and maternity room, while the latter maintained their position in formal rooms. Nevertheless, by the end of the 17th century, Britain, France, and the Netherlands were receiving over 1 million pieces of chintz per year.

Due to the affordability of this textile, it was consumed not only by the elite but also by people belonging to the working class. The latter would often fashion chintz cloth into clothing, a trend that eventually caught up with elite fashion. This is evident in the portrait of Madame de Pompadour, mistress of Louis XV, made in 1763-64, in which she sits in her apartment in Versailles donning a gown made of chintz with marvelous and vivid floral patterns swirling across the white background of this textile.

As the demand and use of this textile in everyday European life grew, the floral design and vibrant colors characteristic of Indian cottons evolved to fit the taste of the European consumer. For example, European fascination with Chinese floral motifs resulted in chintz fabrics depicting such motifs reimagined by the Indian artisan. Further, traditional Indian chintz depicted designs on a cloth dyed in a dark color, primarily red, but most European consumers, apart from the Dutch, preferred a white cotton cloth depicting brightly colored designs.

This is why most of the chintz fabrics exported to Europe have a lighter background than those produced for the Indian consumer. Further, the Tree of Life motif, commonly found in palampores, became particularly popular in chintz cloth exported to Europe. This motif depicted a large tree at the center, with numerous flowers, branches, and fruits emerging from it, covering the entire patterned surface. Essentially, chintz designs catering to the European taste combined motifs from different cultures to exaggerate the exotic qualities of this cloth.

Europe Responds to the Chintz Craze

Chintz was extremely popular in the Netherlands, France, and Britain. As large quantities of this textile were imported from colonized India by these countries due to increasing demand, the domestic wool and silk industries suffered. Unrest grew among the local textile workers as they demanded better protection from the government. In 1686, France declared a ban on Indian chintz imports to protect its silk industry, followed by a partial ban in Britain in 1700. However, while chintz became contraband, these bans did little to curb its demand or use. Throughout the ban periods, significant amounts of chintz from India were smuggled into European countries and continued to be worn by people as merchants and officials worked within legal loopholes to make this possible.

This craze for painted and printed cottons from India compelled European textile manufacturers to enter this flourishing market. By the late-17th century, Dutch, French, and British manufacturers successfully produced imitation chintz cloths that circulated among domestic markets. These imitations frequently used plain Indian cotton cloth as a base over which designs were printed by European artisans. Over time, this industry started implementing mechanized production methods through the use of copperplate printing as well as the roller-printing machine, which enabled the mass production of these textiles. For a certain period, the calico bans in France and Britain also included domestic manufacture of printed cotton textiles, but this was legalized in the early 1700s.

While popular, European-made printed cottons were not always in true imitation of Indian chintz designs, but rather adaptations and hybridizations of both Indian and European motifs. For example, the Oberkampf factory, established by Christoph-Philippe Oberkampf near Versailles, was a leading producer of printed cottons inspired by Indian chintz, called toiles de Jouy. These differed from the colorful designs of the former as they were monochrome printed cottons displaying French pastoral scenes. On the other hand, in 1746, textile manufacturers in the French town of Mulhouse, in the Alsace region, started producing printed cotton fabrics in imitation of Indian chintz, called indiennes, which were much closer to the originals.

The Afterlife of Indian Textile Chintz

The import ban on Indian chintz established the European imitation chintz manufacturers in the market, as they became the primary suppliers of chintz fabrics. While this ban was eventually lifted, things were not the same for the Indian textile industry. The trade of this fabric constituted a major portion of India’s economy, with Europe eventually becoming its largest consumer. The loss of this market, despite the smuggling, had long-lasting impacts on this industry. The once-booming textile industry of India was overtaken by machine-produced European imitation textiles that were both cheaper and faster to manufacture than hand-made Indian chintz.

Eventually, these imitations were also supplied to colonized India by the English East India Company, further hurting the Indian industry. Historically, textiles have been central to Indian culture. The prominence of cheap machine-made textiles from Britain in India, therefore, surpassed economic implications. The loss of this textile tradition, so deeply rooted in cultural memory, was one of many such consequences of colonialism.

In 1905, the Swadeshi movement emerged in colonial India to counter the economic and cultural domination of the British Raj. The term swadeshi, which translates to of one’s own country, formed the core of the Indian independence movement, calling for self-sufficiency through domestic goods and rejecting British products. Mahatma Gandhi joined this movement in 1918 and positioned textiles at the center of the fight for independence. He urged people in India to boycott British-made textiles and rely on Indian-made cotton textiles to revive the domestic textile industry and, subsequently, its economy.

In 1921, several major bonfires were organized in Mumbai to burn 150,000 pieces of foreign cloth as a symbolic gesture of independence from British rule. In its place, Mahatma Gandhi promoted the production of woven cotton cloth called Khadi using a wooden spinning wheel, and this wheel was later added to the flag of the Indian National Congress.

Chintz, therefore, has a multifaceted history that not only shaped design, fashion, and interior decoration but also transformed trading practices, global relations, and the Industrial Revolution. It established its place in history both as an example of master craftsmanship and long-held artistic traditions that were admired globally, as well as a contributor to changing the course of colonial power. Today, the term chintzy is used to refer to something cheap and of poor quality, but at one point in history, something made of chintz signified luxury and the excellence of hand-made craft.

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s complex cultural background later manifested itself in painted works, as he frequently addressed scenes from African American and African history, mythology, and popular culture. Another influence that came from his childhood was the narrative structure of children’s cartoons and comic books that he would later reenact in his art. Read on to learn more about the Neo-Expressionist painter Jean-Michel Basquiat and his short but remarkable life.

1. Jean-Michel Basquiat Had Complex Ethnic Roots

Neo-Expressionist painter Jean-Michel Basquiat was born in December 1960 in New York. His father was Haitian, and his mother Puerto Rican. As a result, Basquiat spoke and read fluently in English, Spanish, and French since his childhood. For his entire life, he remained an avid reader and quick learner, easily picking up knowledge of everything, from philosophy to good wines.

2. He Was Obsessed With Human Anatomy as a Child

As a child playing outside, Jean-Michel Basquiat was once hit by a car and sustained serious injuries. Among other medical procedures, he had his spleen surgically removed, which forced him to stay confined to bed for a while. To occupy the boy with something productive, Basquiat’s mother Matilde gave him a copy of the famous anatomy atlas Gray’s Anatomy that is still considered a quintessential reference book for doctors despite being more than 150 years old. The drawings of human organs and bones fascinated Basquiat so much that he would incorporate their elements into his later painted works during his entire career. In a way, Basquiat’s anatomical depictions of the human body bridged the gap between him, a former street artist, and the artists of the past who studied anatomy on real cadavers.

Basquiat’s mother generally had a profound influence on her son. She encouraged him to visit museums and attend art classes. Unfortunately, Matilde suffered from a severe mental illness, which led to her being institutionalized in the mid-1970s. This made a devastating impact on young Jean-Michel Basquiat, and possibly could have triggered his later mental health issues and drug use.

3. Jean-Michel Basquiat Was Homeless for Several Years

As a teenager, Basquiat was kicked out of his home by his father. Reasons for such a decision vary from source to source, and refer either to Basquiat’s expulsion from high school, or to his habit of smoking marijuana in his room. In any case, for several years Basquiat lived on his friends and girlfriends’ couches and occasionally on the streets. Through his school friends, he joined the young artistic underground of Downtown New York, and soon began leaving strange and complex slogans on the city walls under the tag SAMO.

Although today Basquiat is often called a graffiti artist, his friends and SAMO collaborator Al Diaz actually reject this term. In his view, Basquiat’s way of interaction with space and text was radically different from their contemporary graffiti scene. Instead, it was conceptually closer to Ancient Roman graffiti that consisted of a person’s name and an action performed by said person. Others compared it to text art of artists like Jenny Holzer—simple yet meaningful pieces that provoked further conversation and were closer to poetry than to visual art.

4. He Used to Date Madonna

Basquiat was part of a unique and complex cultural landscape that featured some of the most famous artists of his generation. He was a friend of Keith Haring and a protege and collaborator of Andy Warhol. Basquiat’s relationship with Warhol remains a subject of debate even today: some see a genuine friendship between the two different artists of different generations, and others, a commercial enterprise arranged by Warhol. By the 1980s, Warhol had already passed his peak success and needed associations with young, fashionable artists to stay relevant.

Basquiat, on the contrary, was only beginning his career and needed a powerful figure supporting him.

Another remarkable person from Basquiat’s close circle was his then-girlfriend Madonna. The singer was just two years older than the painter, and at the time had not yet achieved her global success. However, Basquiat recognized her potential and envisioned her future fame. Perhaps, the relationship was based on the mutually felt artistic originality and celebrity potential. However, the emotional romance lasted only a few months, ruined by Basquiat’s heroin addiction.

5. Basquiat Became the Only Black Star in a White Environment

Despite all the success he achieved, Basquiat never allowed himself to forget what dangers he faced as a Black man and how shaky the ground that he stood on was. In 1983, Basquiat’s acquaintance, a street artist Michael Stewart, was killed by police officers after being detained for graffiti painting in the subway. According to Basquiat’s friends, the artist was deeply shocked by the tragedy and realized that it could have easily been him in Stewart’s place.

Over his short career, Basquiat created several works that reflected upon the struggles of African Americans, police brutality, and racial stereotypes. He frequently exploited and ridiculed the stereotypes surrounding Black people in the entertainment and arts industry. During parties with art collectors and businessmen, he introduced himself as a McDonald’s employee. He realized how unforgiving the public mind was to a non-white artist and how easily he could transform from a star into a scapegoat.

6. He Was a Difficult Person to Work With

Despite his charming demeanor and charisma, Basquiat was notoriously difficult to work with, as he refused to respect any deadlines and set rules. He changed galleries often as he got annoyed with the dealers’ attempts to discipline him. He had no concept of reasonable pricing, and demanded to sell works made in 10 minutes for the same high price as his large-scale complex works that took weeks. Basquiat frequently interfered with the exhibition montage process and rearranged the works as he liked, bringing immense frustration to show curators.

Basquiat’s continuous drug use similarly did not make him a more punctual and responsible person. In Andy Warhol’s diary entries concerning Basquiat, the famous pop artist frequently mentioned his altered state of consciousness and slow reactions, typical for heroin use. Moreover, Warhol was worried that someone gave Basquiat his home address, citing his potentially dangerous behavior not only for Basquiat himself but to others and their privacy.

7. He Studied the Mechanisms of Fame and Power

Fame, celebrity status, and fall from grace were perhaps the most important subjects in Basquiat’s work and thinking. He studied his contemporary celebrities and historical figures, interested in the darker side of glory and the expectations from a person achieving certain status. In a dramatic theatrical level, he possibly saw the fall as the integral part of one’s rise to fame. The ideas of power that corrupts and pride that blinds its bearer frequently appeared in his work.

For the same reason, Basquiat was interested in the lives and careers of famous Black figures in American history like jazzmen and athletes. He realized that their success was part of the unspoken social contract that allowed Black men a limited field for accomplishment and appreciation. One of the significant historical events that Basquiat examined in his works was the 1938 boxing match between an African American Joe Louis and German Max Schmeling. The crowd cheering for Louis was the first instance of widespread support of a Black athlete over a white one. The main reason for that was that Schmeling represented Nazi Germany, and the Nazi officials aimed to use his expected victory as proof of racial superiority.

8. Jean-Michel Basquiat Shaped Contemporary Painting

With a twist of bitter irony, Basquiat himself was the one who did not survive his fame. Suffering under pressure from the art world to create more and more work, to stay relevant, and to abide by the scene’s rules, he developed a heroin addiction. He attempted to quit drugs by booking himself a flight to the Ivory Coast and staying there for an indefinite period of time, recovering and creating art. Unfortunately, he did not make it. A few days before his flight, Basquiat was found dead of a heroin and cocaine overdose in his apartment.

Despite his relatively short career and untimely passing, Basquiat managed to create a complex and multifaceted oeuvre that inspired future generations of artists. His signature style featuring bold colors, chaotic small images and childlike lines can still be found in contemporary art galleries, recreated and adapted by young painters.

Jean-Michel Basquiat was an incredibly prolific and famous artist, who left behind hundreds of paintings. Some of them were executed in a matter of hours, and some took days to make. Basquiat’s art featured recurring symbols related to urban culture, African history, and the history of art. Read on to learn more about Jean-Michel Basquiat’s most famous paintings and the meanings behind them.

1. Cadillac Moon: Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Famous Early Painting 

Cadillac Moon was the first painting that Jean-Michel Basquiat ever sold in his life. Previously, he was a homeless street artist who sold hand-painted t-shirts and postcards, and lived on friends’ couches. Surrounded by young artists, writers, and musicians, Basquiat participated in many art projects, including starring in a 1981 film Downtown 81, telling a semi-biographical story of a young artist trying to become famous. One of Basquiat’s co-stars was the Blondie frontwoman Debbie Harry. Cadillac Moon was one of the paintings done by Basquiat specifically for the film and addressing the subjects of dynamic urban life. Harry was so impressed by it that she bought the work immediately after filming for $200.

2. Dos Cabezas 

In 1982, Basquiat met his longtime idol Andy Warhol. Technically, the two had already contacted each other before, as Warhol bought a few hand-painted postcards from Basquiat in the years before his great breakthrough. Still, in October 1982, Basquiat’s art dealer arranged a lunch to introduce the two artists properly. Basquiat was obsessed with Warhol, and, according to the latter’s diary entry, left the meeting only to come back in two hours with a freshly painted portrait of him and Warhol together. In the following years, Warhol would mentor Basquiat and collaborate with him on several projects. However, some colleagues and art historians believe that the relationship was not genuine and relied mostly on Warhol exploiting Basquiat’s talent.

3. Boy and Dog in a Johnnypump

Basquiat had his great breakthrough in 1982. Approached by art dealer Annina Nosei, he finally began showing his work in galleries and even arranged a studio in Nosei’s gallery basement. At that time, he was enthusiastic about new opportunities and later evaluated his 1982 works as his best. Boy and Dog in a Johnnypump is a reflection of a happy urban childhood, with a boy and his dog playing next to an open fire hydrant. The intense orange color suggested the New York summer heat, relieved only with cold hydrant water.

4. Crown Hotel (Mona Lisa Black Background) 

Basquiat was an incredibly knowledgeable artist, deeply aware of the transformations of artistic styles and symbols throughout the centuries. Crown Hotel contains references to famous artworks like Edouard Manet’s Olympia (explored by Basquiat in many of his other paintings), and Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Da Vinci was one of the most important artists in Basquiat’s personal hierarchies. He studied Leonardo’s anatomical drawings, treatises, and paintings, attempting to grasp his all-encompassing way of thinking and the influence lasting for centuries. Crown Hotel is a cryptic study of beauty standards, race, sexuality, and commodification of art.

5. Charles the First 

Charles the First was a tribute to the legendary jazz musician Charlie Parker. In the painted work, Basquiat again explored the concept of celebrity. According to his friends, even before his rise to fame, the artist was sure he would become a star one day. By studying the biographies and works of other famous figures, he also explored the limitations and dangers of celebrity status. The most prominent and famous fragment of Charles the First is the inscription in the bottom of the canvas MOST YOUNG KINGS GET THEIR HEADS CUT OFF. This statement of power leading to destruction would play a tragic and ironic role in Basquiat’s own fate. Unable to cope with the social and creative pressure, he developed a strong heroin addiction and died of an overdose at the age of only 27.

6. Versus Medici 

In 1982, Basquiat was just 21 years old, yet already had solo shows in Italy and a spot in the prestigious Documenta contemporary art exhibition in Cassel, Germany. During his trips to Italy, he revived his interest in Renaissance Italian culture and the famous figures from that time. Versus Medici referred to the figure of Girolamo Savonarola, a Dominican friar who managed to overthrow the omnipotent Medici clan. Savonarola strictly opposed secular art and culture, and rejected the attributes of luxurious life, so prominent with the Medici. Savonarola’s reign was short, and ended with his execution after just four years in power. Basquiat was obsessed with the transformation of a powerful figure into a scapegoat and a cautionary tale of the dangers of power and glory.

7. A Panel of Experts

The 1982 painting A Panel of Experts referred to Basquiat’s tumultuous personal life at the time when he simultaneously dated aspiring artist Suzanne Mallouk and pop singer Madonna, who had not yet achieved widespread fame. According to friends, when Basquiat introduced Madonna to art dealers, he specifically mentioned that she would become the greatest pop star in the world. Still, the painting is less concerned with Madonna’s potential stardom and more with her fight with Mallouk. Suzanne accidentally spotted Basquiat and Madonna in a nightclub and attacked her. Basquiat was genuinely amused with the situation, and congratulated Madonna for winning the fight. Later, Mallouk would burn a collection of Basquiat’s paintings he left in her apartment. The style of the painting referred to Basquiat’s interest in comic books and cartoons from his childhood.

8. Napoleonic Stereotype Circa 44

Basquiat was deeply interested in celebrity figures and the mechanisms of their fame. He was particularly interested in how African American public figures were limited in their opportunities for success and appreciation. For a long time, sport was the only domain Black men were allowed to excel at—however, only until they had to face a white opponent.

Basquiat’s 1983 painting refers to the famous 1936 and 1938 boxing matches between Max Schmeling, representing Nazi Germany, and Joe Louis, an African American athlete. In Germany, Schmeling’s initial victory was framed as the proof of Aryan racial superiority (the boxer himself, however, did not share this view, and later hid two Jewish children in his apartment to save them from death in a concentration camp). Two years later, Louis won the second match. This was the first time in history when the American public openly cheered for a Black athlete against his white opponent.

9. Hollywood Africans

In September 1983, a young street artist Michael Stewart was arrested for writing graffiti on a New York Subway wall, and subsequently admitted to the Bellevue Hospital less than an hour after his arrest. Thirteen days later Stewart died from the side effects of strangulation. No police officer was held responsible despite numerous accounts of witnesses and Bellevue Hospital staff who saw Stewart arriving at the hospital with cuts, bruises, and severe trauma. Stewart’s death was one of many cases of police violence targeted at Black people. Jean-Michel Basquiat knew Stewart and was deeply shocked by his murder, clearly understanding he could possibly suffer the same fate.

Basquiat was well aware of his position as a single Black man in the all-white world of gallerists and collectors. Hollywood Africans was one of the works where Basquiat explored and ridiculed the stereotypes around Black people in the art and entertainment industry. At the time, Black actors had a severely limited range of roles, and Black artists, like Basquiat, were expected to create art within a specific racially-determined aesthetic.

10. Flexible: Basquiat’s Famous Painting of an African Poet

Basquiat had a longstanding interest in African cultures and myths. His famous Flexible painting featured a figure of griot, a specific type of West African singer, performer, historian, and keeper of cultural traditions. Griots were a separate professional group needed to preserve the oral traditions of a community, and were highly respected. The occupation had no age or gender limitations, but required a long training. They were musicians, storytellers, and also keepers of peace, as they were expected to solve conflicts between families and clans. Perhaps, Basquiat considered himself a type of urban griot, preserving folk traditions.

Vincent Van Gogh spent only two years in Paris before relocating to the South of France. However, that brief time had an undeniable impact on his work. Of all the locations that inspired Van Gogh throughout his career, Montmartre is one of the most regularly and vividly depicted. Through Van Gogh’s works, we can explore modern Montmartre with one foot in Van Gogh’s 19th-century starry world.

Van Gogh’s Time in Montmartre

When the “Anonymous Society of Painters, Sculptors, Printmakers, etc.” launched the Impressionist Movement with their 1874 Paris exhibition, they revolutionized the story of art and solidified Paris’ legacy within it. One hub of this emerging movement was the village of Montmartre. Here, artists, writers, and poets mingled with the working-class residents in cabarets and cafes, sharing ideas over drinks and dances. The results of this melting pot can now be seen in some of the world’s finest art museums.

Impressionism was born out of a desire to reflect the world in ways often overlooked in classical subject matter. The Impressionist group grew as other painters from neighboring countries joined them in this hilltop village. Among their ranks was Vincent Van Gogh.

The Dutch painter moved to the City of Light in 1886. There, he shared an apartment with his brother, Theo, a well-established art dealer and one of his closest confidants. During his time in the city, he studied formally under tutors like Fernand Cormon, an established French painter, while expanding his knowledge informally by mingling with his fellow artists such as Monet, Gauguin, and Pissarro.

Many scholars agree that this is where Van Gogh’s style and voice found their beginnings. From Neo-Impressionism to Japanese prints, evidence of emerging and international influences can be seen throughout his work from this time and well beyond.

The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry, June-July 1886

The village of Montmartre is situated on a hill, with stunning views of the entire city that have inspired artists for centuries. In this painting, however, Van Gogh made the hill itself the subject. He depicted the rural side of this quickly growing urban setting. While the side that sits beyond the view of The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry was a bustling hub (you can see some of those famous windmills just over the hilltop), this side was mostly quarries and mills, providing a stark contrast.

Painted early in his stay in Paris, in this work, it is evident that Van Gogh is still finding his vision and voice. The influence of more traditional styles is easy to spot, and darker colors take the lead. But hints of his whimsical eye are evident.

View of Paris, June-July 1886

Painted at around the same time as The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry, Van Gogh’s View of Paris gives us a glimpse of what the painter saw from the southern side of the hill of Montmartre, overlooking Paris. Many of the buildings in the painting have been identified, including Notre Dame Cathedral, the Louvre, and the Panthéon.

The buildings and rooftops are far more detailed than the distant landscape, giving the viewer a sense of perspective and lending the structures a sense of importance. This painting also shows off Van Gogh’s connection to the Naturalist style of painting, again prioritizing the expansive, cloudy sky and muted colors.

Agostina Segatori Sitting in Le Café du Tambourin, January-March 1887

The Boulevard de Clichy made several appearances in Van Gogh’s work from this time. The Café du Tambourin, depicted in this painting, was situated on this boulevard just around the corner from Van Gogh’s apartment.

Agostina Segatori, whom we see seated at a table in the café, was more than just a patron. She was the owner of the establishment and a model for several works by artists, including Degas, Manet, Corot, and, of course, Van Gogh. Here, she is depicted somewhat informally, perhaps a result of the rumored romantic relationship between the two. Segatori can be seen smoking a cigarette in front of what seems to be her second beer. The table and its surrounding stools appear to be in the shape of tambourines, a nod to the café’s name and theme.

Like Segatori, the Café du Tambourin was a vibrant character in the lives of Parisian artists at the time. Unable to pay for food and drink, artists like Van Gogh would offer to exhibit their paintings on the walls instead. This painting, and other portraits the artist would complete and perhaps display on the café walls, show an evolution in style from those completed less than a year before.

Van Gogh was beginning to explore influences from Japanese artists and trends of the period, including the Ukiyo-e style popularized by the landscapes of Hokusai and Hiroshige. Richer colors and flatter shapes were beginning to be introduced, merging with Western influences and hinting at what was to come later in Van Gogh’s career.

Boulevard de Clichy, March-April 1887

Van Gogh’s apartment sat on Rue Lepic, a street that led up to the Boulevard de Clichy, as depicted here. According to the Van Gogh Museum, Van Gogh’s street would have started at the right edge of this picture.

Van Gogh depicts a junction that he would have crossed often, usually on his way to his favorite haunts, like the Café du Tambourin or Le Moulin de la Galette. This period of his work was defined by experiments with new techniques, including those of his contemporary, the Pointillism pioneer, Paul Signac. In fact, Signac painted this street one year prior, though his rendition reflected the street at a slightly different angle, covered in a thick layer of snow.

Van Gogh’s Boulevard de Clichy utilizes lighter, more vibrant colors in warmer tones, which would become a hallmark of his style. Short, quick brush strokes can also be seen here, lending the scene the sense of a fleeting moment that defined the Impressionists.

View of Paris from Vincent’s Room in the Rue Lepic, March-April 1887

View of Paris from Vincent’s Room in the Rue Lepic is actually the name of two of Van Gogh’s paintings, both depicting the view from his apartment window around a year before he left Paris. This version is painted on canvas and utilizes blues, greens, yellows, reds, and browns to capture the moment.

To achieve this look, Van Gogh used two different methods. The first was the Pointillist technique of stippling small dots onto the canvas, which is especially evident in the shorter building in the image. The other involved the quick dashes painted freely, as seen on many of the rooftops. The scene is full of life, movement, and color, three things that would come to be associated with the painter as he gained popularity posthumously.

Entrance to the Moulin de la Galette, June-September 1887

You may recognize the name of the Moulin de la Galette from its appearance in a few paintings by other masters of Impressionism. Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Bal du Moulin de la Galette shows a Sunday afternoon below the famous windmill, where dancers and diners milled about in the cafés and dance halls just below it. Ludovic-Rodo Pissarro also chose the beloved meeting place as a subject for his work in Le Moulin de la Galette.

Van Gogh’s depiction of the landmark takes on his own unique perspective, showing us the entrance to the venue on what appears to be a quiet moment during the day. The colors used here are significantly lighter and brighter than those used in previous pieces. The flatness of some of the subjects echoes the Japanese influences Van Gogh loved so much.

Montmartre Through Van Gogh’s Eyes

Walking through Van Gogh’s Montmartre means walking side by side with one of the greatest artists of all time, through one of the most formative periods of his artistic and personal life. Whether you make it to all of these spots or just one or two, you’ll find that Montmartre, like the paintings of Van Gogh, is still brimming with life and light.

Beautiful, delicate, intricate, and amazing are words to describe tapestries. Among the greatest of French tapestries (and European textiles) is the Lady and the Unicorn series. Commissioned in the 1500s, it remains one of the greatest examples of Renaissance textile art. 

Housed at the Cluny Museum in Paris, France, the Lady and the Unicorn is a medieval mystery because it lacks an exact provenance and is blanketed in metaphorical iconography. Are these tapestries a demonstration of wealth, a symbol of love, or simply large art pieces meant to delight?

The Masterpiece in the Cluny Museum

The Lady and the Unicorn series is also known as the Cluny Tapestries. As prized pieces of medieval art, they are decorated with motifs and iconography that were made popular during that era. The six tapestries are festooned with a red millefleur (thousand-flowers) background, where a noblewoman, a handmaiden, a lion, a unicorn, a monkey, and other animals rest. The banner of the Le Viste family is shown throughout the pieces: a red field with a blue sash decorated with three crescent moons that help identify its provenance. 

The noblewoman has several meanings, including virginity, purity, wealth, and beauty. She might represent a real person or simply an idealized version of womanhood. The unicorn has similar meanings, except that it can also represent Christ. The lion is another famous figure in medieval iconography and means bravery, nobility, strength, and valor. Biblically, it could refer to the Lion of Judah that was the coat of arms of Jerusalem. Five of the tapestries invoke physical senses, while the sixth references an ineffable sixth sense.

Decoding the Allegory of the Five Senses

Each of the five senses is invoked by iconography in the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries. The first sense, touch, is represented by the noblewoman firmly holding the Le Viste banner and resting a hand on the unicorn. Her dress is made of expensive, fine fabrics: blue velvet lined with ermine, embroidered orphreys, and exquisite gold work. There are many animals in the background, including a dog, a wolf, a panther, a cheetah, and monkeys. They wear collars indicating they are domesticated.

The second tapestry calls on taste as the lady grabs a sweet treat from a bowl held by the handmaiden. The sweet is intended for the parrot perched on her finger. A monkey eats a piece of fruit in the background. The woman’s dress is decorated with vegetal ornaments, including a pomegranate on her belt.

Smell is invoked in the third tapestry as the lady makes a wreath of carnations from a tray carried by the handmaiden. A monkey also smells a rose near them. The fourth tapestry reminds us of the sense of hearing, because the noblewoman plays a portative organ and her handmaiden manages the bellows. 

Sight comes into play with the fifth tapestry as the woman sits in the middle of the artwork, holding a hand mirror with the unicorn by her side. The unicorn’s image is reflected back at the pair.

Solving the Riddle of the Sixth Tapestry

The sixth tapestry was made with a feeling that can only be described as an ineffable quality. It is embroidered with the saying, “À mon seul désir,” which translates to “To my sole desire.” It could represent the heart as the center of moral good and authority, as well as a more down-to-earth quality of human love and carnal desire. The woman stands in the center of the piece with her handmaiden, who is holding a treasure chest. She is either removing or putting a necklace into the chest. They are flanked by the lion and the unicorn.  

Here, the lion and unicorn could be a combination of earthly and heavenly desires, with the lion being the former. Lions were regarded as the king of beasts and were seen as violent animals.  Meanwhile, the unicorn, as a symbol of Christ, has the purity and love of God. The unicorn’s holiness is unobtainable by humanity. The lion, we know, is a real animal, and unicorns were considered mythological or scarce in medieval times, which is another tie to being unobtainable.

Origins of the Lady and the Unicorn Tapestries

Another great mystery of this textile art (other than the sixth tapestry) is who commissioned its creation. We can tell by the coat of arms, the red field with the blue sash decorated with three crescent moons, seen throughout the pastoral scenes, that the Le Viste family is responsible.  They were a prominent family that held positions in the Parisian parliament during the 1500s.  As the family grew in power and wealth, they wanted to signal their position to their peers. This was especially true for families who didn’t have noble origins.

Because the entire coat-of-arms is featured in the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries, only someone with high rank and position could have commissioned them. This could have been Jean IV Le Viste, who was the head of the family from 1457 to 1500. After his passing, his cousin Antoine bore the coat-of-arms. 

If Antoine had the tapestries made, it could have been a celebration of his becoming the head of the Le Viste family or to signify his engagement to Jacqueline Raguier. The latter is very likely because their first initials “A” and “I” are in the sixth tapestry.

The famous—and highly problematic—French Post-Impressionist Paul Gauguin hardly enjoyed fame in his life. Yet, several years after he died, he became a superstar among the artists of a land he never visited. Thanks to the effort of an ambitious art collector, young painters of the Russian Empire developed a cult of Gauguin and invented their own avant-garde art based on his ideas. Read on to learn more about the role of Paul Gauguin in the genesis of the Early Soviet avant-garde.

Paul Gauguin in Russian Collections: The Origins of Soviet Avant-Garde

One of the most controversial and disputable figures in art history, Paul Gauguin, hardly needs an introduction. However, in the early 1900s, he remained an obscure figure who was mostly ignored by the wider public of art lovers and collectors. Among the few who managed to recognize his artistic innovation were two art collectors from the Russian Empire: Sergei Shchukin and Ivan Morozov. Ridiculed by their contemporaries at first, they would soon launch an aesthetical and artistic revolution far away from Paul Gauguin’s native land.

Both Shchukin and Morozov came from prominent families that made their fortunes in the textile industry by producing printed fabrics. Both were well-educated and shared their collecting hobby with their family members. Still, they had radically different strategies for looking for new treasures. Morozov preferred relatively safe and expensive artworks: he was famous for approaching Parisian dealers and asking them for “their best Cezannes.” He never tried to negotiate and had a clear strategy of collecting, carefully choosing tones, subjects, and styles. Morozov bought eight paintings by Paul Gauguin, which were made both in France and abroad. One of them was the famous At the Cafe, painted during his short stay with Vincent van Gogh.

Sergei Shchukin collected chaotically, fueled by momentary passion rather than clear strategy. Instead of asking art dealers for help, he dove into their storage rooms and searched for something that would spark his interest. This was not necessarily something that he genuinely liked—at least, at first. He chose artworks that made him feel something, even if it was irritation, confusion, or shock. He gave himself time to observe the work and get used to it and he rarely made mistakes.

Shchukin described his experience with Picasso’s Cubist works as walking barefoot on broken glass but nonetheless bought 51 paintings by him. He collected works from various movements, starting with the Impressionists and arriving at Cubism and Fauvism, rarely, if ever, returning to his past obsessions.

His fascination with Gauguin represented a short but intense phase in Shchukin’s collecting journey. From 1903 to 1908, he bought sixteen paintings, all of which were from the artist’s Tahitian period. These bright paintings, with their bright tones and exotic figures, became therapeutic for Shchukin, who suffered one tragedy after another.

Gauguin’s Altarpiece

Sergei Shchukin’s mansion in Moscow city center was crammed with artworks of all shapes and sizes that were constantly moved and rearranged. Paintings were hung in rows, dozens in every room. For sixteen paintings by Gauguin, Shchukin chose a specific place on a dining room wall. The wall was covered with brown leather wallpaper that made golden frames and yellow paint tones glow. Shchukin’s guests called the arrangement Gauguin’s altarpiece, noting its similarity with the traditional decoration of Orthodox Christian churches. Placed together with little to no space between each frame, the paintings created a cohesive and uniform work, a narrative of the lost paradise, human desires, life, and death.

The gradual accumulation of Gauguin’s works coincided with a series of tragedies in Shchukin’s family. In 1905, his youngest son went missing, and his body was found in a river only months later. In 1907, Shchukin’s wife passed away from cancer, and over the next three years, his brother, also an art collector, and another son died by suicide. Around Moscow, rumors circulated that the main causes of the family’s misfortunes were the cursed paintings that filled the mansion. Sergei Shchukin knew that the public would not appreciate the cutting-edge modern painting he brought to Russia. Still, he felt that it was his duty to support artists and look into the future. During the time of tragedy, Gauguin’s altarpiece was his consolation and way of escapism.

Moscow Artists in Shchukin’s Mansion

If Morozov preferred to keep his doors closed, showing his remarkable collection only to a handful of friends and close acquaintances, Shchukin chose the opposite strategy. His vast collection of art, including avant-garde Frenchmen and great examples of African sculpture, was open to the public. Moreover, he personally guided visitors through the rooms, telling stories of his acquisitions and meetings with artists. Curiously, the Moscow School of Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, one of the most influential art institutions of the time, expressed their great concern about it. They believed that the harmful influence of supposedly talentless and hideous Westerners could irreparably damage the minds of young Russian artists. As it turned out, they were not as far from the truth: French art would help trigger a revolution and raise Russian and early Soviet art to international quality levels.

Still, young artists were among the most frequent visitors to Shchukin’s mansion. At a time when public museums were still too conservative to demonstrate contemporary art, such visits were almost the only option for interacting with foreign art since art students rarely could afford trips abroad. Moreover, art collectors were invaluable sources of information on artists and their ideas in the absence of specialized literature.

Paul Gauguin’s Influence on Natalia Goncharova, Mikhail Larionov, and Others

Gauguin’s innovation was in his reflection upon the non-Western artistic legacy and the quest for alternative visual systems in the cultures previously deemed primitive. Although Gauguin’s approach was abhorrently arrogant and unethical, he nonetheless opened the doors to a new treatment of color and shape. One of the first artists to recognize and adapt Gauguin’s methods was Natalia Goncharova, a young painter and costume designer who would become one of the most prominent avant-garde artists of Russian origin.

After visiting Shchukin and Morozov’s collections, she became obsessed with Gauguin, adopting his radical approach to color and thin layering of paint. At first, she directly quoted elements of his paintings by adding statues, flowers, and puppies to her works. Later, however, her approach became more refined. Another of Goncharova’s obsessions was Orthodox religious painting, and she could not avoid noticing the similarities between Gauguin’s ultramodern figures and the power of Medieval saints.

Goncharova’s lifelong partner and collaborator Mikhail Larionov was lucky enough to visit a 1906 retrospective exhibition of Paul Gauguin’s works in Paris. He shared Gauguin’s obsession with life as something inseparable from art but somehow long forgotten by the mainstream. Like Gauguin’s, Larionov’s still lifes were far from curated arrangements on artificial draperies: they seemed living and existing as if taken momentarily from their functional state.

In 1909, Goncharova, Larionov, and a group of other students were expelled from art school for imitating Western modernists. As a reaction, they formed an artistic group called the Jack of Diamonds to exhibit and experiment together, adopting the ideas of the French avant-garde. Other members included the famous Constructivist Lyubov Popova, Ukrainian artists David and Wladimir Burliuk, and, occasionally, Kazimir Malevich. In 1911, the Jack of Diamonds artists pronounced Sergei Shchukin an honorary member of the group even though he was not a painter himself.

Unlike Gauguin, the artists of Goncharova and Larionov’s circle did not feel the need to travel abroad to find their mysterious fantasy land. They managed to grasp it in various corners of the Russian Empire in the daily life of the working class and peasants. Larionov found his Tahiti in his native city of Tiraspol, present-day Transnistria. Even after the couple moved to France to escape the chaos of the Russian Revolution, they retained their focus on folk art and the liveliness of their native cultures.

The artist who came the closest to Gauguin’s experience was Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin, who, in 1907, traveled to North Africa. The series of paintings from that period were so remarkably similar to Gauguin’s that Petrov-Vodkin was even accused of plagiarism. His most aggressive critic was the famous Realist painter of Ukrainian origin, Ilya Repin, who called Petrov-Vodkin an illiterate slave of the West.

Repin represented the old-fashioned tradition of Russian painting that was becoming increasingly outdated in the 20th century. Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin was one of the most adaptive Russian avant-garde painters who managed not only to rework French influences into a unique style but also to build a successful career at home after the Revolution. The contact with Paul Gauguin’s art, facilitated by Russian art collectors, allowed artists of the late Russian Empire and the early Soviet Union to construct an internationally renowned and recognized artistic language.

Should we separate the artist from the art? What should we do when famous artists commit crimes? Should museums take their artworks down? Or should we tolerate them because they lived in different times? Can we appreciate an artwork only for its aesthetic qualities? Scholars, museum professionals, and the public have posed these questions about many Western artists and their artworks. The idea of canceling them looms over them as museums try to deal with their complicated past.

Famous Artists Under Scrutiny

Today, more than ever, museums and universities work to diversify the art history canon. This consists of an agreed group of artists who impacted the evolution of art the most, and we often call them the “Old Masters.” Not surprisingly, the overly European, white, heterosexual, cis-gender, and able-bodied men dominate this selection. While scholars and museums add artists from underrepresented groups, they address matters of colonization and systemic discrimination. Inevitably, Western artists from the canon have come under scrutiny for sharing racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, homophobic, ableist, and more prejudices.

Art historical research has evolved, too. Now, scholars do not only look for the stylistic characteristics and symbolism of a piece of art, but they also go deeper. They analyze economic factors, art market, patronage, gender roles, race, medium, semiotics, and politics. This information sheds light on the artistic process and reveals harsh and uncomfortable truths about the past. To avoid cancelation, some people believe we could separate the art from the artist and focus solely on the aesthetic qualities of a piece.

An example of this dilemma is Agostino Tassi, the rapist of Artemisia Gentileschi. He was a landscape and seascape artist from the late Mannerist movement in Italy. While he is not widely famous, his paintings and sketches form part of prestigious collections like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Capitoline Museums in Italy.

Similarly, Gentileschi’s father, Orazio, is remembered as an acclaimed painter even though he was more concerned about his own reputation than the violence committed to her daughter. Do these actions outweigh their talent? Could we simply appreciate the landscape above? And do Gentileschi’s religious paintings have the same impact if he could not even show compassion for his own daughter?

How Much of an Artist Is in Every Masterpiece?

We like to think that art is the sole product of an artist’s creativity, but for centuries, art production depended on patrons. The Church, governments, powerful families, aristocrats, and monarchs were the only ones sufficiently wealthy to commission most of the masterpieces we see today in museums. Their money granted them power over the execution of artworks. Surviving contracts vary from very flexible ones to extremely detailed instructions from the patron. Therefore, a painting could be the combined vision of multiple agents, and without evidence, it is difficult to identify where one contribution ends and the others begin. Even if we could, we cannot just ignore one corner of a painting and focus on the rest.

The Aesthetic Alibi

In 1992, Martin Jay published a column titled The Aesthetic Alibi in which he defended artistic freedom as “a special case of freedom of speech, which raises it to a more purified level […] what would be libelous or offensive in everyday life is granted special dispensation.”

Moreover, he argued that art is in its own sphere, far from the rest. In this context, art and its makers are exempt from non-aesthetic criticism. Another interesting thing to point out is that Jay showed concern with the censorship in regimes like the USSR, Nazi Germany, and Khomeini’s Iran. For example, he mentions how French people protected art connected with the aristocracy during the Revolution and stored it in the Louvre. Emily Griffin from the Sotheby’s Institute of Art argued that this alibi immunizes artists from judgment by non-aesthetic rules. It also serves as an excuse for Western museums to ignore the demands from antineutral activists for a revision of the art history canon.

The Case of Paul Gaugin

Today, Paul Gaugin is one of the most important Post-Impressionist painters. However, in 1891, he left his wife and children in France and traveled to the island of Tahiti in search of new inspiration for his primitivist art. Primitivism rejected the academic rules of perspective and proportion that ruled European art since the Renaissance. In turn, it opted for an idealized depiction of the exotic world, free from the burdens of civilization. Ironically, his paintings became a reflection of the colonial violence he and his French co-nationals inflicted on native populations.

Gaugin titled the painting above Merahi metua no Tehamana (meaning Tehamana Has Many Parents or The Ancestors of Tehamana). The girl in the striped dress was Teha’amana, a 13-year-old Tahitian girl who Gaugin married. Another of his paintings titled Manaò tupapaú (Spirit of the Dead Watching) from 1892 shows her lying naked on a bed. He oversexualized her when she was only a child and enhanced racist and misogynistic stereotypes about women of color. It is hard to separate the artist from the art when they are so intertwined. It is more difficult to separate Gaugin from his non-aesthetic context because the motivations behind his art resulted from an environment of racism, sexual violence, and misogyny.

The National Gallery addressed this issue during an exhibition titled The Credit Suisse Exhibition: Gauguin Portraits in 2019. The curators added contextual information about his paintings from Tahiti. Co-curator Cornelia Homburg mentioned during a talk how Gaugin took advantage of French colonialism, as well as local beliefs. In Tahiti, as in many cultures around the world, adult men could have relationships and marry young girls without judgment.

Even when the added context only existed in a portion of the exhibition, certain people criticized it. On November 23rd, 2019, Steve Cuozzo from the New York Post wrote,

“This is what art appreciation has come to: a PC prism through which a painting, a work of literature or even a popular song must be scrutinized for racism, sexism, gender bias or just plain hurt feelings […] I thought most human beings turned to art not for ideological hectoring but for the joy of beauty and insight into the human condition — whether from Dante, Shakespeare or Springsteen.”

To him, the exhibition at the National Gallery should never have addressed Gaugin’s controversial behaviors and should have let people appreciate the art simply for its beauty.

Famous Artists Are Just the Tip of the Iceberg

The case of Gaugin illustrates how personal artworks can be, making it impossible to separate them from their author. The artworks become explicit reflections of their behavior and mindset. Moreover, separating the art from the artist goes further than ignoring the immoralities or crimes of the artists. These men existed in a context that informed their vision of the world and actions. If Gaugin abused a native girl, it was because he could; the same goes for Tassi, Gentileschi, and countless others.

Those who believe we shall only care for the aesthetic qualities of a painting also pretend to turn a blind eye to the message of those paintings, no matter how offensive they may be. Think about Teha’amana’s painting. Why did our society think that a painting of a brown girl naked in bed represented a pleasing image? Or Balthus’s paintings of young girls in sexually suggestive poses?

Macushla Robinson participated in the podcast Tiny Sparks. Investigating the Business of Doing Good in 2021, in an episode titled For This Art Curator, the Aesthetic is Political. There she talked about her upcoming book Rape in the MET Museum. She noted that the Metropolitan Museum of Art contained 181 works of art titled or described as rape in their database. Some of them consist of mythological paintings where gods abduct women to have illicit sexual relations. According to her,

“Art history has traded on stories on rape to create drama, to set up opportunities to paint nude women and to display the mastery of the artist over his subject.”

If we turn to people of color, we could try the same exercise Robinson did with the words servant or slave. For instance, the Golden Age of Dutch Art featured Black people in the background of noble families’ portraits, as did in other European countries. As for people from the Middle East, Orientalism depicted cultures as pre-modern people and over-sexualized, brown-skinned women.

Disabled people were an object of cruel portrayals. By praising perfect proportions and athletic bodies, people with physical impairments were far from the idea of beauty in art. Often, they appear as freakshows. They reflect ableist beliefs that blamed disabilities on sins or curses. For example, the theme of Christ healing the blind reinforced the idea of sickness in need of fixing. A museum can work to be as accessible as possible to its visitors with automatic doors, ramps, audio guides, and braille translations, but the artworks may still portray ableist thinking. And what about mental health reflected in Théodore Gericault’s portraits of people in asylums?

Problematic Famous Artists and Their Art

Separating the art from the artist is a long-going debate, and it will be for decades. This is not exclusive to art history. Everywhere, in pop culture, entertainment, sports, and even science, we ask if people’s actions outside their work should affect their work. It might be best to go case by case, but the reality is that art is not isolated. It is part of our societies and a reflection of them.

What is beautiful to one culture depends on historical context; therefore, separating the aesthetic values of an artwork also involves ideologies and politics. These are the issues museums and scholars must examine when planning an exhibition or a research paper. Hiding the names of artists will not fix anything, but neither will ignoring their problematic past. Museums have also changed. Instead of being the authoritative institutions of the past where people ought to receive information, they need to be places for thinking, discerning, and discussing. The exhibition on Gauguin at the National Gallery is a good example of this balance. They provided verifiable facts and extended an invitation to the public to think critically, evaluate the information, and make their own judgment.

Money and art have served as political tools to convey visual narratives and make powerful statements for millennia. Combined, they are powerful cultural assets. Today, governments invest considerable resources in selecting artworks and artists to create attractive banknotes, valued not just for their exchange value but also for what they represent. They have become symbols of their countries, coveted by the public and collectors. Here are 14 examples of banknotes from all around the world that display artworks or famous artists.

1. British 20-pound Banknote Featuring Famous Artist JWM Turner

In 2016, J.M.W. Turner (1775–1851) became the first artist to appear on a British banknote, specifically on the £20 banknote. The public nominated him, and an expert panel selected him for his contributions to the visual arts and British society. The decision was not merely aesthetic. As the governor of the Bank of England said, “Money is memory.” Turner’s self-portrait from 1799 appears on the reverse of the note. Behind it, there is a reproduction of one of his most famous paintings, The Fighting Temeraire, tugged to her last berth to be broken up (1838). Additionally, one can read one of his quotes, which says, “Light is therefore colour,” delivered at a lecture in 1818. The sovereign, as always, appears on the obverse of the note.

2. Mexican 50 Pesos Banknote Featuring Teocalli

Mexicans were filled with pride when the 50-Mexican-peso banknote was named the most beautiful one in 2022 by the International Bank Note Society (IBNS). The back of the Teocalli of the Sacred War appears on the obverse of the note. This is a Mesoamerican stone sculpture from the Mexica culture (1325–1521) representing a temple in miniature. Although the Teocalli is a three-dimensional sculpture with relief all around it, the government highlighted the back side because it shows the eagle standing on a cactus, devouring a snake. This image is the symbol of the Mexican flag and one of the most important visual elements of Mexican culture. Behind it, a part of Diego Rivera’s (1886–1957) mural The Great Tenochtitlan seen from the Market of Tlatelolco (1945) serves as background.

3. Armenian Banknote featuring Hovhannes Aivazovsky

The Armenian banknote featuring a portrait of Hovhannes (or Ivan) Aivazovsky (1817–1900) is a perfect example of how money can be used to make political statements, and how important an artist’s national identity can be. Aivazovsky is worldwide known as a Russian painter, famous for his extraordinary seascapes, which are present in this note alongside his portrait. However, Russia, Armenia, and Ukraine have engaged in a long dispute to define his national identity. Since the invasion of Russia into Ukraine, these two nations’ claims have escalated. Meanwhile, Armenia recognizes that the artist lived and studied in Russia but still considers him an Armenian artist. As such, the Armenian government put him on their banknotes.

4. Indian Banknote Showing Cultural Heritage

All Indian banknotes feature Mahatma Gandhi on the obverse, but the reverse shows the most important archaeological sites in the country. The 20-rupee note shows the Ellora Caves (600–1000 AD), a complex of 34 caves located in Maharashtra, India. These are masterpieces of architecture, sculpture, and painting. Apart from its artistic qualities, the importance of this site lies in its message of religious tolerance. These temples represent Buddhism, Hinduism, and Jainism, all in one place. It is a testament to the long history of India’s multiculturalism. For this reason, UNESCO included the caves on the World Heritage List.

5. South Korea Banknote Featuring Shin Saimdang

Shin Saimdang (1504–1551) became the first woman to appear on South Korean banknotes in 2009. She was a recognized artist of the Joseon Dynasty (1392–1910) era. The 50,000-won banknote showcases her portrait along with details of the plants and insects she painted.

The selection of this painter caused a stir among Korean feminists. The exclusion of women and other vulnerable groups from appearing in banknotes sends as strong a message as the inclusion of others. Consequently, including a woman artist is a sign of gender equality in South Korea, or at least what the government tried to convey. Nevertheless, for certain feminist groups, Shin symbolized traditional views of women and their domestic roles in society. Aside from her artistic legacy, Shin was the mother of the Confucian scholar Yi I.

6. Colombian Banknote Featuring Débora Arango

Débora Arango (1907–2005) was a Colombian expressionist painter and watercolorist. She defied convention by choosing a career usually reserved for men, painting female nudes, and making social commentary through her art. Since 2015, the 2,000-Colombian-peso banknote featured Arango and her artworks. The obverse contains details of The Nuns and the Cardinal (1987) and 13th of June (1986). The latter illustrates a political uprising where conservatives, liberals, and other social groups joined to support the coup d’état by General Gustavo Rojas Pinilla against President Laureano Gómez.

7. Turkish Banknote Featuring Mimar Kemaleddin Bey

The reverse of the 20 Turkish lira features the architect Mimar Kemaleddin Bey (1870–1927). He was one of the leaders of the First National Architectural Movement, also known as the National Architecture Renaissance or Turkish Neoclassical architecture, at the beginning of the 20th century. If banknotes are part of a medium to showcase nations’ cultural heritage, then it is no surprise that Turkey chose an architect who worked to give his nation their own style by returning to Ottoman influences. Behind his portrait appears the last work of his movement, the Rectorate Building of Gazi University.

8. Banknotes Featuring Congolese Artworks

The Democratic Republic of the Congo’s banknotes feature a variety of examples of the country’s history of art. For instance, the 1,000-Congolese-francs note features the Coffret Kanioka, a carved casket of the Kanioka people; the 5,000-note, a wooden sculpture from the Hemba people; the 10,000-note, a statue of the Kuba people; and the 20,000-note, a head carved by the Bashielele people. This diversity in the artworks reflects the country’s cultural, linguistic, and artistic diversity.

9. Banknotes Featuring Singaporean Artworks

Singapore chose local artworks from the Singapore Art Museum to adorn its 50 Singapore-dollar banknote. Two Gibbons Amidst Vines by Chen Wen Hsi (1906–1991) and Drying Salted Fish (1978) by Cheong Soo Pieng (1917–1983) appear on the obverse of the note. These paintings represent the coming-of-age of the Singapore Arts scene. Both artists migrated from China to Singapore, where they created the Nanyang style. Overall, it is a combination of Southeast Asian themes, Chinese ink painting, and Western oil painting. To accompany the artworks, the note includes four instruments: The Chinese Pipa, Malay Kompang, Indian Veena, and Classical Violin. All these elements convey a message of multiculturalism.

10. Egyptian Banknote Featuring Ancient and Modern Architecture

The magnanimity of ancient Egyptian architecture attracts millions of visitors every year. Wisely, the government put those marvels in their banknotes. The obverse of the one-pound banknote features the Madrasa and Mosque of Sultan Qaytbay, built in 1474 AD during the Mamluk sultanate. Meanwhile, the Great Temple of Ramesses II in Abu Simbel (ca. 1264 BC) decorates the reverse side. This way, both modern and ancient Egypt are represented in the banknote.

11. Japanese Banknote Featuring Hokusai

Hokusai (1760–1849) was one of the greatest woodprint artists in Japan. In 2019, the government included his most famous work, The Great Wave off Kanagawa (1830), in the 1,000-Yen note. During the Meiji period, woodprints like this one became popular in Europe, inspiring dozens of artists to create a new style called Japonism. The artwork features a view of Mount Fuji, a natural icon of Japan.

12. Georgian Banknote Featuring Niko Pirosmani

If Niko Pirosmani (1862–1918) had known that his artworks would appear on Georgia’s 5-lari banknote, he would not have believed it. He was a self-taught artist who lived and died in poverty and never enjoyed fame. However, today, according to the National Bank of Georgia, he is the greatest Georgian artist. He painted country scenes that depicted Georgian life and traditions, all while the nation suffered under Russian rule. The banknote features two of Pirosmani’s Primitivist paintings: Kalo or Threshing Floor at Dusk (1915–1916) and The Fisherman in the Red Shirt (1908).

13. Romanian Banknote Featuring Nicolae Grigorescu

The 10-lei Romanian banknote celebrates the painter Nicolae Grigorescu (1838–1907). He is known as one of the founders of Romanian modern art. The obverse shows his portrait next to a standing paintbrush, and even the clear window has the shape of a palette and paintbrush. Moreover, on the reverse side, Grigorescu’s Rodica, the Water Carrier appears next to a traditional home from the Province of Oltenia. As many painters recognized for bringing forth their national traditions and identity, he focused on painting rural life.

14. European Architecture on Euros

Today, 20 of the 27 countries in the European Union use the Euro as their official currency. Their banknotes illustrate the history of the European continent through their architecture. Each banknote features a historic style: the 5€ note pays homage to classical Greek and Roman cultures; the 10€ and 20€ notes go further to Medieval times with the Romanesque and Gothic styles, respectively; the 50€ note, the Renaissance; the 100€ note, the Baroque; the 200€ note, Art Nouveau; and the 500€ note finally reaches the modern era.

Famous Artists in Our Pockets

Every day, millions of banknotes all around the world pass from one hand to another. These 14 examples show how countries use them as media to promote their culture. There are many more examples of this. Perhaps you have kept some notes from your travels, or even from your own country, or you might collect old ones, because they are more than simple papers for trade. They hold part of a country’s cultural heritage.

The oeuvre of Henry James spans some 20 novels, dozens more novellas and short stories, plays, travel writing, and criticism. It’s not just the breadth of this body of work that daunts readers. James is a novelist’s novelist, who innovated a style entirely his own: sprawling sentences in which each word is meticulously chosen to add to the enigmatic maze of phrases he has pieced together. Where to start? No better place than his early style, with its famous ‘international theme,’ moving through to his psychologically complex, highly interiorized later work.

The Portrait of a Lady

In 1881, Henry James was already the author of six novels. A cosmopolitan who had spent as much of his youth traveling in Europe as in his native New England, James had filled his books so far with the ‘international theme’: contrasting American innocence with European experience, New World enterprise with Old World culture. No surprise that these early novels included titles such as The American (1877) and The Europeans (1878).

The Portrait of a Lady expanded on these ideas by integrating another element that would become a James hallmark: a brilliant, beautiful, often rich female protagonist who must decide how to make her way in a world that still prizes marriage above all. James’s first great success, and still one of his most read works, the novella Daisy Miller (1878), had taken up this theme alongside the international one by depicting its American heroine’s changing fortunes in Europe.

Isabel Archer, in Portrait of a Lady, is another of these beguiling heroines. What sets this novel apart (making it, for many readers, James’s first masterpiece) is the space it devotes to exploring its protagonist’s inner workings.

We follow every step of Isabel’s mental processes as she asks herself whether to marry Gilbert Osmond in spite of her doubts, then as she tries to make sense of her betrayal at Gilbert’s hands and those of his accomplice, Madame Merle. This painstaking recreation of the human mind in fiction would become James’s greatest accomplishment.

The Aspern Papers

You’d be forgiven for thinking that an author bent on mimicking the intricacies of consciousness in prose wasn’t exactly a writer of page-turners. Yet The Aspern Papers, a novella published in 1888, is exactly that.

Our unnamed narrator travels to Venice in hopes of getting a glimpse at some letters, or ‘papers,’ by the late, celebrated poet Jeffrey Aspern (an invention of James’s, though he drew on the increasing interest among scholars by the late 19th century to gather information about deceased writers). The narrator finds himself embroiled in a game of mutual dissembling with the old woman who guards the papers and her niece.

The novella is a gripping piece of metafiction that anticipates certain postmodern texts that also revolve around literary detective work, such as A.S. Byatt’s Possession (1990) and the dark academia genre. As the tension mounts throughout The Aspern Papers, the reader is left questioning what really motivates each character: are they intent on preserving Aspern’s memory, or satisfying their own desires?

The Turn of the Screw

Probably James’s best-known piece of short fiction, if not his best-known work altogether, The Turn of the Screw has been adapted multiple times since its publication in 1898: it has been turned into films (such as The Innocents, 1961), reworked as television series (such as The Haunting of Bly Manor, 2020), referenced in other fiction, and formed the basis of a Benjamin Britten opera.

Why does The Turn of the Screw continue to capture audiences? In part, because it is a classic horror story, complete with haunted house, creepy children, and an unnamed, mounting threat. Its title refers to the gradual, torturous tightening of tension as the governess at the center of the story tries to determine whether the children she is in charge of really are possessed by the ghosts of Bly Manor’s former servants.

So far, so Gothic. But what makes The Turn of the Screw even more captivating, and especially worth reading in its original form, is James’s use of unreliable narration. Unlike earlier Gothic texts, which depict supernatural elements, James’s novella suggests the ghosts may be only in the mind. The question is, whose mind? Using his trademark ambiguity, James makes it possible to believe that the children have made up the apparitions, or that the governess has fabricated the entire story herself.

The Ambassadors

This 1903 novel was James’s favorite of his own works. Here, the ‘international theme’ of his earlier phase meets the intricate prose of his creative apex. This novel, and the novels before and after it (The Wings of the Dove (1902) and The Golden Bowl (1904)) are generally considered his finest work.

The protagonist, Lewis Lambert Strether, is sent to Europe by his fiancée to bring her son from a previous marriage back to America: back to civilized morals and sensible work. This set-up would later serve Patricia Highsmith well for the opening of The Talented Mr Ripley in 1955.

But Chad Newsome, the son, is not living a dissolute lifestyle in Europe at all. He is charming, cultured, and confident. He introduces Strether to Paris, and the ambassador soon finds himself deviating from his mission. It is another story built around enigmas: is Newsome really living a better, more moral life? Is Strether right to feel liberated the longer he spends away from America, the more he immerses himself in European culture?

Once again, James’s complex prose heightens the sensation of entrapment in a maze as the reader tries to puzzle through all this, with the entire experience told in partial, third-person narration: that is, we seem to have an omniscient narrator, but everything is filtered through Strether’s perspective.

The Golden Bowl

In contrast to The Ambassadors and its focus on the protagonist’s point of view, the complexity of The Golden Bowl comes from its masterful evocation of multiple points of view, but without resorting to the epistolary or multiple-narrator constructions of earlier authors.

The plot of The Golden Bowl is relatively simple. Prince Amerigo marries Maggie Verver, daughter of an American widower, Adam, in London. While there, they meet a fellow American, Charlotte Stant, who, before long, marries Adam. Unbeknownst to both Adam and Maggie Verver, their spouses had formerly had an affair, and are now thrown together by the new marriages.

The golden bowl of the title is symbolic: on one of their secret outings, Amerigo and Charlotte decide not to buy it as a wedding present for Maggie because it has a tiny crack. Maggie later buys it, causing the shopkeeper to reveal their affair. Each character has a reason not to shatter this golden bowl or destroy the two marriages by revealing their secrets.

It is an emotionally claustrophobic novel, and James’s narration emphasizes this by moving seamlessly among the four protagonists’ thought processes. This, paired with James’s forbidding sentence construction, makes for an astonishing read in which most of the action appears to happen inside the characters’ minds. In this, The Golden Bowl anticipates modernist stream-of-consciousness techniques, used by authors like Virginia Woolf and James Joyce to mimic the complex, often confusing patterns of thought itself.

The Beast in the Jungle

The Golden Bowl had shown James moving away from external action and deeper into the recesses of his characters’ minds. All that happens in The Beast in the Jungle, a novella published in 1903, is that John Marcher meets May Bartram, a woman he used to know 10 years ago, who reminds him of his old, looming fear that some catastrophe was lying in wait for him like a “beast in the jungle.”

Believing he would subject anyone he married to the same fate, he keeps Bartram close but not too close, dragging both of them down into a half-life of fear and hiding. Eventually, he realizes his catastrophic fate has been, all along, to waste the best years of his life worrying about some unknown future event.

It is a relatively simple idea, full of existential possibilities: how should we best live our lives? What is our responsibility towards others? Is it better to cautiously avoid failure or to throw ourselves hopefully towards the unknown?

With its unfussy plot—very few characters, only one setting, in contrast to many of James’s other works which move freely between European countries and America—The Beast in the Jungle has the makings of a classic tragedy, albeit updated to the turn of the 20th century, turning upon the distinctly modern fatal flaw of ennui.

Of course, in James’s hands, it is anything but a simple story. James’s masterful techniques of circumlocution and evasion were well used here, bringing to life a protagonist whom many have suspected to be close to James himself.

Indeed, the sexual ambiguity of Marcher and Bartram’s relationship has led critics to read The Beast in the Jungle as a possible reflection on the conditions of being closeted. Perhaps the ‘beast’ Marcher fears, and the reason he cannot quite allow Bartram into his life, are linked by latent homosexuality.

This was, as the infamous late-19th-century phrase had it, “the love that dare not speak its name,” and James’s prose was the perfect evocation of the closet, with all its symbolic half-statements and partial revelations.

However, we read the story, James’s style is at its peak by the end, reaching an intensity which clearly shows his influence on the modernists some two decades later:

“He saw the Jungle of his life and saw the lurking Beast; then, while he looked, perceived it, as by a stir of the air, rise, huge and hideous, for the leap that was to settle him. His eyes darkened – it was close; and, instinctively turning, in his hallucination, to avoid it, he flung himself, on his face, on the tomb.” (James, 1997)

Source

James, Henry (1997). The Beast in the Jungle. Project Gutenberg edition.