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Lot Essay
Painted in 1982, the year Jean-Michel Basquiat became firmly established as the rising star of the New York art scene, Crisis X is a work that demonstrates the remarkable power of his unique brand of art. Part painting and part sculpture, this extraordinary work is a complex amalgamation of canvas and stretcher; a self-portrait, an icon, and a sophisticated commentary on modern art. 1982 was a breakthrough year for Basquiat. It was the year of his first one-man show, at the Annina Nosei Gallery in New York, and also the year of his sell-out show in Los Angeles. While the pictures of 1981 represent a continuation of his interests in graffiti and child-art, the paintings of 1982 show a greater depth of subject matter and more sophistication in style, technique and reference.
One of the most remarkable aspects of this unique painting is the interplay between canvas and stretcher. Becoming bored of the pre-prepared canvases supplied by his dealers, Basquiat instructed his assistant Stephen Torton to make frames from whatever he could find in the studio and dumpsters nearby. The resulting exposed crossbars and twine lashing forms an integral part of the work, reflecting the everyday life and debris of the then derelict streets of New York's East Village. This new method of construction won instant fans and rave reviews. "For a while it looked as if the early stuff was primo, but no longer," wrote critic Rene Ricard. "He's finally figured out a way to make a stretcher...that is so consistent with the imagery... they do look like signs, but signs for a product modern civilization has no use for" (R. Ricard, "The Pledge of Allegiance" in Artforum, vol. XXI, no. 3, November 1982, p. 48).
In an interview that year, Henry Geldzahler asked the artist, "I've noticed in the recent work you've gone back to the idea of not caring how well stretched it is; art of the work seems to be casual" Basquiat replied, "Everything is well stretched even though it looks like it may not be" (H. Geldzahler, quoted in Basquiat, exh. cat., Museo Revoltella, Trieste, 1999, p. LVII). Indeed, Basquiat's stretchers have an important effect as the critic Francesco Pellizzi commented, "The visible stretchers on Basquiat's canvases are in a way the opposite of frames; they are a way of de-framing the already unframed picture-object" (quoted in Jean-Michel Basquiat, exh. cat., Vrej Baghoomian Inc., New York, 1989, p. 14). The stretcher of Crisis X is particularly noteworthy as it extends far into the space around the canvas, incorporating the environment around the picture into the experience of the piece, and creating a sculptural effect, so that Crisis X is a cross between a painting and a low relief. It is the only painting/sculpture of this sort that Basquiat made.
The iconography of Crisis X is also especially moving. The artist's mother was from Puerto Rico and his father was from Haiti; and the artist grew-up with a syncretic background containing both Catholic and Vodou elements. The cross is, of course, the central sign of Christianity. But it is also a Vodou emblem, transplanted from African civilization. As Wyatt MacGaffey has explained, the cross in African and Haitian art and ritual "refers to God and man, God and the dead, and the living and the dead. The person taking an oath stands upon the cross, situating himself between life and death, and invokes the judgment of God and the dead upon himself" (quoted in R.F. Thompson, Flash of the Spirit, New York, 1983, p. 108). While this is not literally the case with Crisis X, it is nonetheless suggestive of the mythographic power of the piece. This combination of skull and cross is typical of Vodou imagery and furthermore, in Basquiat's paintings, male heads typically represent the artist, so that Crisis X may be a self-portrait as well as an icon.
Despite his reputation as the enfant terrible of the art world in 1980s New York, Basquiat had a remarkably comprehensive knowledge of his artistic predecessors, to whom he acknowledged a debt of gratitude. The principal influence was Robert Rauschenberg. Crisis X is especially similar to Rauschenberg's Winter Pool (fig. 1) in that it brings together elements of painting and sculpture and fragments of high and low culture. Francesco Pellizi has commented on this influence, "Rauschenberg made 'combines' (as he called them), object-image constructions in which the object as such invests and rematerializes the image, thus making of the 'picture' not a mirror of nature but something more like an alternate reality. Basquiat produced unprecedented combinations of words and images (the images themselves, with their schematic quality, are more like language-symbols than pictures) that are actually sign-constructions, which, as representational wholes, acquire the disquieting nature of 'speaking objects' ...The visible stretchers...[and] other rough devices, such as the hinges on Catharsis, also stress the work's character as a receptacle of signs. This is something--by Basquiat's implicit admission--that would not have been possible without the precedent of Rauschenberg's vertiginously innovative and wholly American 'naïveté' (F. Pellizzi, op. cit., p. 14). The other notable influence in Crisis X is Franz Kline. The dynamic brushwork is like that of Abstract Expressionism; in this it resembles not only Rauschenberg's playful imitation of Ab-Ex forms; it also comes close to Kline's work. Geldzahler, in the interview with Basquiat in 1982, said, "When I first met you, you mentioned Franz Kline." To which Basquiat replied, "Yeah, he's one of my favorites" (J. Basquiat, quoted in op. cit., p. LVII).
Almost always autobiographical in some way, Basquiat's paintings are pervaded with the sense that the artist was talking to himself, exorcising demons, exposing uncomfortable truths and trying to explain the way of things to himself--an effort that became increasingly pronounced at this time. Executed in vivacious colors over a background of painterly layers and bold architectonic angles, this dramatic and iconic portrait is both forceful and aggressive, the figures impressive postures and tortured features are expressive of the artist's own fears and anxieties. When questioned about his method of constructing an image, Basquiat would go on to confirm, "I don't think about art when I'm working. I try to think about life" (quoted in Basquiat, exh. cat., Museo Revoltella, Trieste, 1999, p. LXVII).
Jean-Michel Basquiat in New York, 1982.
(fig. 1) Robert Rauschenberg, Winter Pool, 1959. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
(fig. 2) Death Mask. Mexico. Painted wood. F. Reichenbach Collection, 1994. M.A.A.G.O.A., Marseille.
(fig. 3) Matthis Grünewald and Niclaus of Haguenau, Isenheimer Altar, 1512-1516. Musée d'Unterlinden Colmar.
One of the most remarkable aspects of this unique painting is the interplay between canvas and stretcher. Becoming bored of the pre-prepared canvases supplied by his dealers, Basquiat instructed his assistant Stephen Torton to make frames from whatever he could find in the studio and dumpsters nearby. The resulting exposed crossbars and twine lashing forms an integral part of the work, reflecting the everyday life and debris of the then derelict streets of New York's East Village. This new method of construction won instant fans and rave reviews. "For a while it looked as if the early stuff was primo, but no longer," wrote critic Rene Ricard. "He's finally figured out a way to make a stretcher...that is so consistent with the imagery... they do look like signs, but signs for a product modern civilization has no use for" (R. Ricard, "The Pledge of Allegiance" in Artforum, vol. XXI, no. 3, November 1982, p. 48).
In an interview that year, Henry Geldzahler asked the artist, "I've noticed in the recent work you've gone back to the idea of not caring how well stretched it is; art of the work seems to be casual" Basquiat replied, "Everything is well stretched even though it looks like it may not be" (H. Geldzahler, quoted in Basquiat, exh. cat., Museo Revoltella, Trieste, 1999, p. LVII). Indeed, Basquiat's stretchers have an important effect as the critic Francesco Pellizzi commented, "The visible stretchers on Basquiat's canvases are in a way the opposite of frames; they are a way of de-framing the already unframed picture-object" (quoted in Jean-Michel Basquiat, exh. cat., Vrej Baghoomian Inc., New York, 1989, p. 14). The stretcher of Crisis X is particularly noteworthy as it extends far into the space around the canvas, incorporating the environment around the picture into the experience of the piece, and creating a sculptural effect, so that Crisis X is a cross between a painting and a low relief. It is the only painting/sculpture of this sort that Basquiat made.
The iconography of Crisis X is also especially moving. The artist's mother was from Puerto Rico and his father was from Haiti; and the artist grew-up with a syncretic background containing both Catholic and Vodou elements. The cross is, of course, the central sign of Christianity. But it is also a Vodou emblem, transplanted from African civilization. As Wyatt MacGaffey has explained, the cross in African and Haitian art and ritual "refers to God and man, God and the dead, and the living and the dead. The person taking an oath stands upon the cross, situating himself between life and death, and invokes the judgment of God and the dead upon himself" (quoted in R.F. Thompson, Flash of the Spirit, New York, 1983, p. 108). While this is not literally the case with Crisis X, it is nonetheless suggestive of the mythographic power of the piece. This combination of skull and cross is typical of Vodou imagery and furthermore, in Basquiat's paintings, male heads typically represent the artist, so that Crisis X may be a self-portrait as well as an icon.
Despite his reputation as the enfant terrible of the art world in 1980s New York, Basquiat had a remarkably comprehensive knowledge of his artistic predecessors, to whom he acknowledged a debt of gratitude. The principal influence was Robert Rauschenberg. Crisis X is especially similar to Rauschenberg's Winter Pool (fig. 1) in that it brings together elements of painting and sculpture and fragments of high and low culture. Francesco Pellizi has commented on this influence, "Rauschenberg made 'combines' (as he called them), object-image constructions in which the object as such invests and rematerializes the image, thus making of the 'picture' not a mirror of nature but something more like an alternate reality. Basquiat produced unprecedented combinations of words and images (the images themselves, with their schematic quality, are more like language-symbols than pictures) that are actually sign-constructions, which, as representational wholes, acquire the disquieting nature of 'speaking objects' ...The visible stretchers...[and] other rough devices, such as the hinges on Catharsis, also stress the work's character as a receptacle of signs. This is something--by Basquiat's implicit admission--that would not have been possible without the precedent of Rauschenberg's vertiginously innovative and wholly American 'naïveté' (F. Pellizzi, op. cit., p. 14). The other notable influence in Crisis X is Franz Kline. The dynamic brushwork is like that of Abstract Expressionism; in this it resembles not only Rauschenberg's playful imitation of Ab-Ex forms; it also comes close to Kline's work. Geldzahler, in the interview with Basquiat in 1982, said, "When I first met you, you mentioned Franz Kline." To which Basquiat replied, "Yeah, he's one of my favorites" (J. Basquiat, quoted in op. cit., p. LVII).
Almost always autobiographical in some way, Basquiat's paintings are pervaded with the sense that the artist was talking to himself, exorcising demons, exposing uncomfortable truths and trying to explain the way of things to himself--an effort that became increasingly pronounced at this time. Executed in vivacious colors over a background of painterly layers and bold architectonic angles, this dramatic and iconic portrait is both forceful and aggressive, the figures impressive postures and tortured features are expressive of the artist's own fears and anxieties. When questioned about his method of constructing an image, Basquiat would go on to confirm, "I don't think about art when I'm working. I try to think about life" (quoted in Basquiat, exh. cat., Museo Revoltella, Trieste, 1999, p. LXVII).
Jean-Michel Basquiat in New York, 1982.
(fig. 1) Robert Rauschenberg, Winter Pool, 1959. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
(fig. 2) Death Mask. Mexico. Painted wood. F. Reichenbach Collection, 1994. M.A.A.G.O.A., Marseille.
(fig. 3) Matthis Grünewald and Niclaus of Haguenau, Isenheimer Altar, 1512-1516. Musée d'Unterlinden Colmar.