How to Look at Basquiat, Chapter 2: “The Avenging Spirit of Jean Michel Basquiat.”
Weekly Mourner 3, part 2
by screm, July 2020
“GRILLO”.
Grillo.” 1984. Acrylic, oil, xerox collage, oilstick, and nails on wood, four panels. 244 x 537.2 x 45.7 cm.
As the mist settled over the small village, in the lateness of the hot time of the year, Bibuwa knew in his pure heart that something had changed in the air. A foul coldness seemed to settle over everything, and a vibration too, like the lightning in the sky just before it struck. Something had been loosed in the sweltering jungle of the Congo and all these sensations were to Bibuwa a sign of the presence of that something. What had begun for Bibuwa as an earnest trade of a few goats for the supplies to furnish a better dwelling for his family, seemed now to take a turn toward the terror of a bad dream.
Kabunji had only reluctantly sealed the agreement for the supplies with Bibuwa, and Bibuwa had to admit to himself that he knew in his heart that Kabunji did not fear the Nkondi. When two men drove a nail into the carving of the Nkondi it was believed that the avenging Spirit would guide the agreement and keep the hearts and deeds of the men true to their word. For, to the terror of all in the village, if the men failed to be true, the Nkondi would visit them in the night, and drive those same nails into the heart of the cheater.
Still, the heart of a cheater is as cold to the mystical aspect of life as it is toward those whom he would cheat. The heart of a cheater like Kabunji would be as quick to explain away the sudden and violent death of a fellow tribesman, who had not been true to his word, as it would be to contrive its next scheme. The heart of a cheater is a heart of unbelief. When a man with a cold heart like Kabunji drives nails into Nkondi it is a mockery of Nkondi’s power. Kabunji, whose name means “Fox”, was as sly and indiscriminate as the same.
Now Bibuwa followed the wine colored trail in the dirt leading from Kibunji’s hut into the tall grass that bordered the darkness of the trees. The trail grew larger and darker as he followed, as if the spill of whatever this was had gotten worse along the way. He had approached Kibunji’s hut moments earlier to confront the cheater (for Kibunji had indeed cheated him). The supplies he had given in exchange for the beasts were all defective and Bibuwa’s anger had become great... but Kibunji, strangely, was not there. It was not in Kibunji’s nature to run. The strange trail leading away caught Bibuwa’s eye and he hastily ran after it. But now, suddenly, Bibuwa’s anger seemed to scatter from his heart as it was replaced with a chill that he had never known. There, in the tall grass, crossing over the edge of the same, into the darkness of the trees, were the feet of Kibunji, soaked in what Bibuwa now knew could only be Kibunji’s own blood. And nails. They were driven in everywhere.
•••
Jean-Michel Basquiat drove dozens of nails into several of his works. “Grillo”, painted in 1984, is among those particular pieces and it represents an important part, and development of, Basquiat’s work. And this piece shows, in an especially powerful way, the ability of the artist to not only dominate in the realm of the formal, but also in the realm of the symbolic.
The work extends 18 inches from the wall and consists of four panels. Each panel is a different size and each extends a different length outward. Two of the panels appear to be a kind of paneling or fencing structure and the other two appear to simply be wood panels constructed to make the piece protrude out. Nails... lots of them... are hammered into three pieces attached to the surface of the work. There’s something aggressive about them isn’t there? They seem to send a message of caution to the viewer, as if the piece can’t be touched, or perhaps, as if the artist can’t be touched.
Acrylic paint, oil stick, oil paint, collage of xeroxed drawings, and nails. And of course the structure is medium here as well. Most of the mediums Basquiat uses here are typical for his work but the nails are not, and therefore the nails will be a focus for the larger part of the analysis. They have deep meaning, even a kind of spooky meaning. These nails define the piece and reveal a deeper referential database for the artist that Basquiat’s viewers may not otherwise know existed in his mental tool-chest. In order to do this we have to step again into the realm of central Africa, specifically the Congo region, wherein we find that something called the “Nkisi-Nkondi” are the likely inspiration for these nails.
The “Nkisi-Nkondi” are functional sculptures are also known as “power figures” and they typically take the form of a person. These are spiritually pragmatic forms. Nails are driven into the figures as a way to invoke the “Nkisi” and the “Nkondi”. The Nkisi and the Nkondi (meaning Hunter) are spirits, the latter being the more aggressive of the two. In order to activate the spirits the person involved would pound a nail into the sculpture and this could be used as a way to seal formal agreements thereby invoking vengeance and justice should one of the parties involved break the agreement. It could also be used as a way to invoke cosmic justice (the Nkondi) by driving in a nail for some purpose of bringing justice to a wrongdoer. Of interest to us is of course the artist’s use of these devices. Why? Of what import is this medium to the piece?
“Nkisi-Nkondi” 18th–19th century, Wood, iron, cloth, mirror, leopard tooth, fiber, and porcelain18 x 8 x 3 1/2 in. (45.72 x 20.32 x 8.89 cm) Charles B. Benenson, B.A. 1933, Collection.
Certainly the figures painted in “Grillo” bear a striking resemblance to some of the statues that were used as “Nkisi/Nkondi”. And the title of this piece is of especial importance for Basquiat. Look closely at the way that Basquiat drew these figures and then look at the Nkisi/Nkondi above. Can you see the similarity? I can and I have to say it’s a powerful use of symbolism once you know the reference. The fact that many may not know the reference actually makes this more powerful in my opinion.
On the end of the far right panel there is a piece of wood filled with hammered nails. There is a similar strip of wood with hammered nails in between the first two panels from the left and then one smaller strip filled with nails placed above the head of the first figure. This adds another sculptural element to an already sculpturally oriented piece and this sets “Grillo” apart from many of Basquiat’s other sculptural works. There is an apparent ritual purpose here.
Found objects converted to sculptural use may have purpose, in one sense of the word, but the cliche is already in place. Whatever associations come with a particular object are packed into the work regardless of how the object is altered or subverted. If Basquiat had painted on a refrigerator (he once did), the meaning of that object itself would permeate the painting. The cliche is already there. Here is an apparently random act of hammering many nails into portions of the piece and it leaves the viewer grasping for meaning and purpose. This act apparently doesn’t connect to anything literal. And yet, purpose is there and meaning is there... indeed. I opened this “chapter 2” with a little historical fiction to give you a sense of the real-time meaning of this symbolism. In the story, Bibuwa, whose name means “goodness”, takes part in a ritual that was very real to the people dwelling in the Congo in the early part of the 18th century. He drove nails into a Nkondi figure to forge his agreement with Kibunji, invoking the avenging Spirit and inviting his swift justice should the agreement be broken by either man.
It is striking that it may not have been so easy for someone in Basquiat’s day to decipher this symbolism. Unless the viewer was able to ask someone who was educated on both the artist’s intent and the actual meaning of nails in these African power sculptures they may have simply been left to wonder. There’s no other reference that I can find in the composition that would direct a viewer to the Nkisi/Nkondi and yet the reference is surely there as the drawing of the figures proves and the manner in which the nails are driven proves. This is evidentially supported conjecture. Moreover, Basquiat was a historically aware painter. He knew African history as many of his drawings and paintings verify and his ability to weave these references into his work should not be lost on anyone.
Still, did you notice a crucial difference about Basquiat’s use of the nails? Notice that he doesn’t drive them into his drawing of the figures. He drives them into the work of art itself. He drives it into the structure. This work, “GRILLO”, is the power figure. The work itself is the mystical entity.
Some speculate the the word “grillo” is derived from “griot” meaning “storyteller” in Spanish. The direct translation for “grillo” is “cricket” but it may also mean “shackle”. I happen to think that “shackle” is a more relevant interpretation for Basquiat. He spoke often of feelings of being surrounded by cheaters and snakes (notice the snake drawing on the inside of one of the panels in this magnificent painting). It leads me to wonder whether this piece was both a statement of his power over the elites who sought in so many ways to own him and of his own sense of disparity from those same elites. More on this in a moment...
The Nkisi/Nkondi in Basquiat’s painting are surrounded by icons, seemingly random drawings of things... eggs, and logos, little drawings of seemingly random objects, and xerox copies of those drawings. The historic Nkisi power figures often have symbolic trinkets bearing personal meaning to the user hanging from them as well. There is a randomness to both of course but it is striking that these historic figures are littered with objects as Basquiat’s drawing on this surface appears littered with objects of some unknown meaning. Perhaps that’s the cohesive significance of the packed nature of the drawings and Xerox copies of drawings around the figures.
Still, this is in some ways a typical Basquiat painting that moves from panel to panel in an abrupt manner, and as the artist often does, he breaks up the flow of the entire piece with panels in between these intense panels that are simpler, done with larger more expressive strokes, and broader patches of color. These simpler panels are like a rest for the viewers eye. I think this illustrates just how deeply and naturally he wove historical references into his process of making these works of art.
One more portion of this work bears great impact on the meaning of the use of nails. In the second panel, one of the more visually calm panels, Basquiat writes four words at the bottom of the panel. He uses his technique of crossing out letters in order to call greater attention to the word itself. It reads thus:
TIN
DEAD
RACISM
ASBESTOS
At least, I’m nearly certain this is what the words are. It’s not insignificant that the word RACISM is here. Nor is it incidental that these words are placed on a panel that has much less to decipher. The viewer’s eyes are resting and then they stumble across these words. There’s not much to pick them out from.
Basquiat consistently referred to racists in the New York art scene who attempted to use the color of his skin to take advantage of him or to mistreat him. This word, it may be fairly guessed, is the key to understanding the use of the nails. Herein is motive. This, in light of the placement of that word strikes out as an assertion of the artist’s mystical power over the establishment. Again, this is conjecture but it fits with Basquiat’s tactic of social commentary. Basquiat has invoked the Nkondi so to speak. The power and presence of his work would indeed go on to serve as a timeless criticism on the shallow gamesmanship of the art elite who so cynically tried to use him for their own gain.
We will consider the reality of our mortality in the final chapter of this volume of “How to Look”. Basquiat’s mortality is perhaps the most frequently covered aspect of his career... it ended so abruptly and tragically that it’s easy to forget his triumphs during his brief career. This work, this “power figure” , is a monument to his triumph. We all have our lesser selves. That version of “us” that we spend much of our lives running from, and too much of our lives indulging, whether we admit it or not. Basquiat may have fallen to the worst version of himself but we do well to honor his better self, his “Bibuwa”, so clearly displayed in this pinnacle work: “Grillo”.
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