Keith Haring Journals

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

From the age of 19 until his death from AIDS in 1990 when he was 32, artist Keith Haring kept handwritten notebooks in which he recorded thoughts on his work, his personal relationships, his homosexuality, the books he had read, other artists and his commercial success. An internationally renowned pop icon by the time he was 24, Haring presumably knew the journals would eventually be made public. As a result, some of the entries betray a youthful self-consciousness. Nevertheless, these outspoken statements provide insight into the sexuality that permeates Haring's art and reveal a great deal about his aesthetics, creative development, working methods, competitiveness with other artists, openness to new experiences, love of children, devotion to friends and determination to go on in the face of death. The entries are arranged by year, and lists of Haring's exhibitions and projects are appended. An appreciative introduction by Yale art historian Thompson sets Haring's work in context. Illustrations not seen by PW. BOMC selection. (July)

Library Journal

The journals Haring kept since high school, here illustrated with previously unpublished drawings, should help to illuminate his cheery, raucous street art.

Salon

Talking about art is never as interesting as the art itself.

Keith Haring's journals begin in 1977, when he was in high school in Pittsburgh, excited that he bought tickets for a Grateful Dead concert for $5.50 each. The last entry is from 1989, right before he died of AIDS at the age of 31, by which time he had become a world-famous artist. In between there are poems, photographs, letters, dreams, critiques of other artists, insecurities, unpublished drawings from his notebooks, lists, calendars, quotes from Graham Nash, John Keats and Walt Whitman, mentions of sex and AIDS and such philosophical babble as "The freedom of the artist is symbolic of the human spirit in all mankind."

Haring's journals are more introspective, analytic and soulful than his mentor Andy Warhol's superficial, celebrity-studded diaries. Fans of Haring's works, the best-known of which feature colorful primitive figures dancing, will no doubt enjoy reading about his world travels, his public and private shows, and his intimate connections with Warhol, Timothy Leary and William Burroughs. Yet Haring was a visual artist, not a writer, and making paintings is not an inherently exciting topic. ("Fill in color inside the black shapes -- one color at a time. Very 'Cobra' brushwork and very drippy. Finish around 9:30 with back hurting and smelling bad ...") It's ironic that, for someone whose work seemed so free and spontaneous, the journals reveal the intensive planning, toil and clear agenda that went into Haring's work and image.

Although Robert Ferris Thompson's introduction is well-written and informative, one wishes for more linear biographical information. Thompson quotes a friend who said that Haring was "the nicest person he ever met in his life," and indeed it's refreshing to find an artist who talks of his love of children, concern for humanity and donations to charity. Haring comes off as vulnerable and human. In his brief but poignant preface, the artist David Hockney perhaps sums up Haring best when he writes, "He left his mark everywhere. A very generous life." --Susan Shapiro

Kirkus Reviews

Recorded in sporadic bursts at various points in his brief career, these journals attest more to the late artist's amazing industry than to his analytical or descriptive powers.

Early entries, from 1978 to 1980, show Haring the adolescent Deadhead arriving in New York and laying out an aesthetic program. Pages of word associations and sophomoric aphorisms about the role of art are of interest purely as juvenilia, but Haring discusses with remarkable self-assurance his desire to make art accessible to the general public: "There is an audience that is being ignored, but they are not necessarily ignorant. They are open to art when it is open to them." From 1980 to 1985, Haring found his trademark cartoon-graffiti style, famously began drawing on blank advertising panels in New York City subway stations, and rapidly became the most Pop and popular of artists, his work proliferating on T-shirts, posters, and urban murals. Unfortunately, however, Haring wrote almost nothing during his transition from eager student to international celebrity. The journals resume as a record of trips abroad to oversee exhibitions, and to create artworks and a store in Tokyo, but lively anecdotes are in short supply. The virtual absence of editorial notes, irritating throughout, seems almost malicious after chronological caesurae, for few of the fellow artists, dealers, friends, and stray acquaintances Haring mentions are identified even with a surname. Haring's whirlwind activity is shadowed by deaths—Andy Warhol's inspires a splendid, moving discussion of Pop Art and Warhol's relationship with Haring as mentor, friend, and artistic compatriot. As Haring's own health began failing (he died of AIDS in 1990, at age 31), he took more delight in mundane details, poignantly writing in 1989, "Every time I come to Europe I think I'm going to live forever."

Fragmentary, not particularly enlightening, and lacking notes, these journals offer limited rewards even to the Haring aficionado.