It is deeply ironic, and yet somewhat fitting, that Jean-Michel Basquiat’s street tag was coined as SAMO, or, ‘Same Old Shit’, and yet here we are years later seeing The Same Old Shit of white men copying, stealing, and taking claim of the works of people of colour.
Basquiat is seen as the poster child of the Neo-Expressionist movement pioneered by German artist Georg Baselitz in the 1960s. In 1980s New York, Basquiat aimed to destabilise conventional ideologies of colonisation, queerness and established social hierarchies, establishing him as a perceived radical of his time, being likened to the Jimi Hendrix of the art world.
In my recent doom scrolling, I have been overwhelmed by the ever-increasing pandemic of white, male, so-called ‘artists’ taking to TikTok, marketing their work which may as well be a carbon copy of Basquiat’s.
Watch on TikTok
Basquiat collaborations and brand deals have likewise been a recent flavour in the media, from Doc Martens, Louis Vuitton, and Cotton On, to, most notably, Uniqlo. Even as I sit here, writing this very piece, I am faced by my own BasquiCat enamel pin planted on my tote bag. Such brand deals undeniably gain traction, maintaining Basquiat’s relevance for future generations.
However, I can’t help but feel as though this recent craze speaks to a deeper rooted issue within society – the appropriation of marginalised identities for purposes of commercial gain.
So, where do we draw the line? What is the difference between appreciation and appropriation?
To begin, it should be stated that there is a stark difference between taking inspiration from a fellow creative versus copying and taking credit for their artistic ingenuity.
Art is seen as an outward manifestation of a voice within. The books we read, the people we have loved and lost, the food we crave, the places we knew – art is a mirror to the world that its creator inhabits. It is an intimacy between artist and medium. Any kindergartener can tell you that stealing is wrong. However, beyond this obvious point, it becomes clear that to steal the work of another artist is to negate the work’s purpose and meaning.
On the basis of facts, the overwhelming majority of people indulging in this trend are united by three things: race, gender and age. These are white young men exploiting the ideas of people of colour to sell their work, so much so that it has birthed an adjacent trend amongst creatives.
Revealing my art so I can find my audience (but I’m not a guy copying Basquiat).
Watch on TikTok
One may raise the argument that these individuals are taking mere inspiration.
So, let us review the Neo-Expressionist movement as a whole: it is, at its heart, a bold, sweeping, evocative movement, grounded in subjectivity, hallmarked by highly textural and expressive brushwork – it is not simply Basquiat’s iconic crown, faces, dinosaurs and dog motifs. I urge you to look at artists such as Marlene Dumas, Anselm Kiefer, and the aforementioned Georg Baselitz, who exemplify this revolutionary movement with every brush stroke.
It would be the greatest sham to say Basquiat is the only artist who has fallen to the helm of commodification and exploitation, because, truth be told, we see it in the media all the time. Keith Haring, Yayoi Kusama, and Andy Warhol, to name a few, are artists whose bodies of work have seen a similar immortalisation in the aisles of Uniqlo.
Donning artworks as apparel is not the problem here. By all means, wear your Haring ring, or your Warhol Tee (not to be specific or anything). However, it is when commodification leads to the loss of the work’s inherent meaning, and when individuals monopolise off such ignorance for their own benefit, that shows us that a line should be drawn, because #basquiat is simply not enough to give credit where credit is due.