A little more than a couple of decades ago, the New York graffiti artist Al Díaz gave up heroin after many years hooked. So this artist of Puerto Rican origin wanted to put some order in his life.
“And, well, I saw that the Basquiat family somehow appropriated Samo,” Díaz himself, 63, tells these days at the Canal Gallery art gallery, “and I wanted to tell the truth, that Samo was the two, Jean Michel and me… And, well, anyway, until now I had never been to Barcelona, I had never mentioned it here…”.
This story begins in New York at the end of the seventies. Díaz and Basquiat, two teenagers, classmates, print the streets with sarcastic, caustic, cynical sentences… All signed by a certain Samo –really same old shit (the same old shit as always)–. And here the most important thing is the content, the message, and not so much the form. Actually, at that time we were witnessing one of the turning points in the history of graffiti. Until then, painting letters on the walls was mainly a dialogue between writers, among the letter painters themselves, to see who could make them bigger, showier, more difficult...
"With Samo, a dialogue is established with the people who live in the city," explains Balu, the urban artist specialized in templates, stencils, founder of Canal Galery, of this gallery in Barcelona's Gothic Quarter, and organizer of Samo's first exhibition. in Europe-. It's been 45 years since all this!" People like Keith Haring come later. “Yes, the popularization of graffiti came later, in the eighties. Diaz is a pioneer."
And so Díaz teaches Basquiat to paint with aerosols, to write on the walls, to be more daring and daring, to get lost between streets and verses. In those adventures some of those characteristic traits are gestated.
“What happens is that when we met I was already a graffiti artist, since I was 11 years old – continues Díaz – I was already here, and he wasn't, and I was clear about what anonymity meant. It's part of my code! My norm, as graffiti dictates... And Basquiat, on the other hand, was very clear that he wanted to be a famous artist. That was his goal, to be both, artist and famous. As soon as the first report on Samo appeared, he ran out to say that it was him, that Samo was him. And the truth is that little by little we distanced ourselves. I only saw him two or three times when he was super famous. But we were always friends. We were brothers, real brothers. In fact, before he became so popular, the last time we met, he told me that he was sorry, that he was sorry for having appropriated Samo, he apologized for taking all the credit, and he gave me a few paintings. And I sold them for 3,500 pesos [dollars]! Because I am also a musician and I wanted a recording device, I needed it. I think these paintings are currently insured for about $20 million. Anyway, I didn't do it out of spite, we weren't angry or anything like that, I just wanted a recording device. They are things that happen! I was 26 years old." No, not a trace of resentment in his words.
And this afternoon Díaz will tell them all, everything, to whoever wants to listen, at seven in the evening, and then he will sign, of course, in the Balu art gallery, at 4 Palau street . “Yes, it will be Samo's first show in Europe, 45 years after it all started,” concludes Balu, the gallery artist who has most of his work on the street (but this is another story) -. Diaz and I met in New York eight years ago. I go there a lot, to investigate the history of graffiti. I always wanted to tell the story of Samo.” The Canal Gallery exhibition will remain open to the public for a couple of months, but Díaz returns to New York today. “No, I almost don't paint anymore... When I'm invited somewhere. In New York things got very tough, and there they know me too much...”.
