A Queer Eye on Art History

Keith Haring (1958-1990)

Keith Haring has become one of the most recognizable artists of the American art scene in the 1980s.

He started his work through the Subway Drawings, a series of chalk drawings on matte black pieces of paper, which functioned to cover up unused advertisement panels in the corridors and platforms of subway stations. His drawings were easily understood, accessible, and relatable, becoming enormously popular among the subway commuters and making Keith Haring well-known throughout New York City.

Not only was he recognized for his drawings, paintings, and sculptures, but he also became very active in a variety of media, spanning from the creation of costumes and stage designs, poster designs, record sleeve designs, and to the opening of his Pop Shop selling Keith Haring merchandise and goods. He even, briefly, opened his sensational Pop Shop Tokyo in Japan. He was also involved in creating murals, as well as organizing children’s art workshops all over the world.

Keith Haring was diagnosed with AIDS in 1988 and established the Keith Haring Foundation the following year. Until he died in 1990 at the age of 31, Haring was actively involved in AIDS-related campaigns and charities for social causes through his art. Today, the foundation continues his artistic and philanthropic legacy from his studio New York City.

Untitled with its large scale four-meter width is covered with numerous bodies with no set direction, filling the canvas like a pattern. Figures, painted only with bold, black lines, have no eyes or noses and spread across the painting in vibrant colors like pink, orange, and blue.  

On heavy muslin, figures crampedly painted on top of each other, and it looks as though each of them is trying to move forward or reposition themselves to a less crowded space.

The piled-up figures evoke the intersectionality of our humanity that we are always connected, touching, helping, and at times hurting each other. The drawn characters seem to have no gender, race, or culture--just drawn as a pattern as if to express human equality.

This work was completed a few weeks before Haring’s death on February 16, 1990. Editions of this piece are housed in 9 different locations, including churches and museums across the globe. Perhaps the most symbolic of these is still displayed on the altar of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, where his memorial service was held. Accepting his fate, Haring created this final work to impart his lasting legacy of hope, peace, and eternity.

Three panels of bronze with white gold leaf patina make up the over-two-meter-wide altarpiece. Under the cross carved on the upper part of the middle piece, numerous arms extend; the arms hold the baby, and angels fly around them.

Andy Warhol was captivated by mass production. In his eyes, repetition and sameness characterised the era. Fashion, films, art, and soup were being replicated, broadcast, eaten, and worn, again and again and again and again…

Warhol first started making silkscreen prints in 1962. He infamously told an interviewer, "The reason I'm painting this way is that I want to be a machine, and I feel that whatever I do and do machine-like is what I want to do."

How do you make a print? It all begins with a photograph. Here, Warhol has used an image of himself, but he also cropped pictures from newspapers, books, and film reels. Some of his most famous subjects include Marilyn Monroe, Mao Zedong, and the almighty US dollar bill.

The original image is photographed and projected onto fabric screens (usually made of silk) coated with photographic chemicals. The chemicals harden and turn the screens into giant stencils. You need one screen for each color, then you're ready to print.

At the time, silkscreen printing was used mainly by commercial poster printers. It was cheap - in terms of looks and in terms of cost - but Warhol's striking, acidic, pop art prints turned this industrial process into fine art.

Though Warhol described himself as a machine, there's a lot of human work that goes into the process. Plus, the screens degrade over time as they become clogged with ink. The result is that each print is actually unique.

But what links an artist of the swinging '60s to a Japanese artist of the Meiji Era?

Kobayashi Kiyochika was a Japanese artist who specialised in ukiyo-e, images of contemporary society. Living at the end of the 19th Century, Kiyochika saw Japan undergo immense change as a result of the country's 'opening up' to Western contact.

Kiyochika was born in 1847 and became an artist around the age of 26. He took up traditional Japanese woodblock printing, even though this style of art was declining in favour of western-style painting and photography.

The prints he produced depicted landscapes, tourist sights, and new technologies and fashions brought by westerners. Though he's fondly remembered for his simple caricatures and observations of daily life - as seen here.

The basic techniques of Japanese woodblock printing have remained unchanged for centuries. First, the artist begins by sketching the image in full colour. Then the sketch is copied to a series of wooden blocks - one block for each colour required.

The wooden blocks are then carved, though it's actually the uncarved areas which will print. More detail means more carving, and the most detailed block is usually the black one.

The printing process is similar to using a stamp: each block is covered with ink, then the paper is aligned and pressed against the block. When the paper is dry, it goes to the next block for the next color, and the process repeats.

Unlike the screen printing process, the production of woodcuts is incredibly laborious. It's easy to see why Japanese artists were keen to embrace different methods.

Kiyochika is considered to be one of the last great ukiyo-e artists. He found that the market for prints was shrinking and that he made more money from drawing newspaper cartoons. He even later abandoned printmaking in favour of photography.

It's ironic that at exactly the same time that woodcuts were being abandoned by Japanese artists, they were being admired by European ones. Looking back, it's not hard to trace a line from the ukiyo-e prints of Japan, to Andy Warhol's Grace Kelly.