Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Art & Artists can come from anywhere at any time. Even from unexpected places, like a housing project. Pueblo del Rio: Arabesque, 2014, Oil on canvas, 48 x 72 inches. Pueblo del Rio, 1941-2,  is a housing project designed by Paul Williams at 52nd Street and Long Beach Avenue, Los Angeles, one of two works in the show set there. African-American Architect Paul Williams was a big influence on Noah Davis, according to his chosen curator Helen Molesworth, and he set other Paintings among Paul Williams buildings.

There is, sadly, no shortage of brilliant younger masters who left us far before their time. The tragedy endures but their Art prevails, and in the end, assumes a life of its own. In Contemporary Art, perhaps no one known to me seemed to do more as an Artist, curator, and visionary in as short a time as the late Noah Davis did before he passed from a rare soft tissue cancer at just 32 on August 29, 2015. Now thirteen years out from my own cancer treatment, the variety of cancers I hear and read about never ceases to astound me. One thing my journey through it taught me was that no two journeys are alike. Unlike mine, in Noah Davis’ case, cancer ran in his family, claiming his dad a few years before it took him. For some perspective (no comparisons intended)- Mozart died at 35. Raphael was 37. More recently, Jean-Michel Basquiat was 27. Music has Jeff Buckley, at 30, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, both 27, among a long list of others. Photography has Francesca Woodman, at 22. Literature, and humanity, has Anne Frank, at just 15, and on and on…

Untitled, 2015, Oil on canvas, 32 x 50 inches. Of this late work, show curator Helen Molesworth spoke about the line between the two women on the couch in her gallery talk. The separation and isolation between two so close together on barely half of the couch is compelling in a Hopperesque way, yet, I haven’t been able to summarize everything this fascinating piece says to me because every time I look at it, I see something else. I see some of what I see in Deana Lawson’s work, some of what I see in Kerry James Marshall’s, Francis Bacon, and there’s a Rothko-with-a-difference in the background, yet what strikes me most is that in this work, as in any number of other works on view Noah Davis is entirely on his own. He has studied, learned, assimilated, and then staked out his own turf as a wholly formed Artist to be reckoned with does. In the moment I shot this picture, the feeling that I was standing in front of a masterpiece was undeniable.

I’ve been blessed with knowing some, and working with some others, who left far too soon. I met the incandescent Jaco Pastorius in 1976 at the release of his now classic debut solo album at Peaches Records Store in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I watched as he put his hands in wet cement on the store’s “walk of fame” outside along Sunrise Boulevard (which I believe is still there) that evening never imaging he would leave us a scant 11 years later. I spoke to him a number of times over those years and we both wound up (independently) in NYC shortly before his tragic murder at just 35. I worked with the late, brilliantly talented, Mark Ledford, and worked with the equally brilliant Thomas Chapin, on three albums, both of who passed at, or before, 40 in the early stages of the prime of their careers, and their lives. I think of all three of them every single day. Though the passage of time eases some of the pain, in my experience, loss is something that does not go away.

Waiting Room, 2008, Oil and acrylic on canvas, 80 x 65 inches. In many of his works, a space opens up that sometimes seems to be an abyss. Here, the abyss is above us and two figures in the upper distance appear to be looking down on the scene below. Is the Waiting Room an “abyss,” where the outcome (possibly to be revealed  behind those large white doors) is unknown as is the effect it might thave on life to come? It can also have that surreal, “Is this really happening?” feel to it. Like any work of Art, it’s open to whatever the viewer may see in it. This was, however, Painted at about the time Noah Davis was diagnosed with cancer, after his father was.

But, thank goodness we have what they created- their Art, their Music, their words, and what they taught us. Us. Everyone whose lives were touched by all of these Artists are part of their legacy.

I never had the good fortune to meet Noah Davis, who was born in Seattle, and studied at Cooper Union in Greenwich Village, becoming something of a sensation here about a decade ago before leaving without graduating around 2004 (because he felt that his education was no longer pushing him, it is said), and moving to L.A.. I was only casually familiar with his work until I walked into David Zwirner on 19th Street, where his Art and his legacy filled no less than three entire galleries.

Imaginary Enemy, 2009, Oil on wood panel, 84 x 98 inches. Does the figure in white on the right, with what appears to be a cup on his head, have one foot on a portal? Or? The figure approaching on the left appears to be n flames. The strange, angular plane behind him has the effect of another dimension, as in Cubism. I’m still enjoying wrestling with this one, too, but I will say there are elements that remind me of Neo Rauch.

My mind was blown by all I saw. Noah Davis was, and is, a major figure in the Art of our time- in more ways than one.

Untitled (Birch Trees), 2010, Oil on canvas, 54 1/2 x 36 1/2 inches. Many of Noah Davis’ Paintings include nebulous, mysterious faces and heads. Maybe I’ve been looking at too much Francis Bacon this past year, but I find them unique and surprisingly compelling, given their frequent lack of features.

My perception had been that at 32 he was still developing, pursuing his own style- as most Artists in their early 30’s are. Ha! As I moved from work to work, I saw an Artist who was completely in control of a full range of styles, which he could dip into at will and which only hinted at influences in tantalizing and intriguing ways, while being wholly his own. Work after different work. How is this possible? The range. The depth. The power. It was all there in the service of his vision.

The Last Barbecue, 2008, Oil on canvas, 60 x 52 inches. Here, the faces are more defined. The group portrait on the left in countered by the odd triple portrait on the right behind the lid of the barbecue, and the scene in the center is surreal, disturbing and puzzling. It is an explosion, or? Looking at it, it was hard not to think of Kerry James Marshall’s Bang, 1994, a 4th of July barbecue scene.

Flashback- November 12,2016 at Kerry James Marshall: Mastry at The Met Breuer. KJM’s Bang, 1994, Acrylic and oil on unstretched canvas(! Notice that it’s tacked to the wall.), 103 x 114 inches.

Before he passed, Mr. Davis asked Helen Molesworth (who, a few years ago gave us the landmark Kerry James Marshall: Mastry Retrospective that I wrote about after its Met Breuer stop) to be his curator. The Zwirner show, which Ms. Molesworth has brilliantly selected and installed, is not arranged chronologically, which I am thankful for. It serves to downplay the “end” and the tragedy of Mr. Davis’ early loss and put the focus squarely on his Art and his accomplishment, where it belongs. (By my count, only 3 of the works did not have owners listed on the checklist.) Each work dialogs with other pieces from a few years later or earlier in ways only someone intimately familiar with the Artist and the work could bring us, which, by itself, sets this apart from most gallery shows of deceased Artists. Her work hasn’t ended here. Ms. Molesworth, who was controversially fired from her post at MOCA in 2018, has also been busy creating an upcoming monograph on Noah Davis, interviewing those who knew the Artist, due to be published this fall, which should be a slam dunk candidate for one of the most important Art books of the year, if not the decade.

1975 (8), 2013, Oil on canvas in artist’s frame, 49 q/w x 73 1/2 inches.

The show featured “fantastical” work, like Imaginary Enemy, alternated with domestic and family scenes. 1975 (8), 2013, was based on a Photograph from the 1970s Davis Family Photo Archives. It reminds me of the mural his mentor and friend Henry Taylor did a few years ago for NYC’s High Line.

Single Mother with Father Out of the Picture, Date unknown, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on canvas, 40 x 30 1/4 inches. There’s an elegance and a timeless, haunting, beauty to this work, which though all too common in our world, I can’t recall having been the subject of a Painting before.

Mr. Taylor has written eloquently about his friend who was 30 years his junior and the effect and influence Noah had on him, his work and his career. One of the more important Painters of our time, reading his words is eye opening, an important testament to Noah Davis’ legacy.

Untitled (Moses), 2010, Oil on linen on wood panel, 8 x 10 1/4 inches.

Perhaps none of these familial works is more poignant than the smallest Painting in the show, Untitled (Moses), 2010, 8 x 10 1/4 inches, showing his son, which may be based on another Photo from his family archives. In this remarkable, small, work, unique among Artist’s portraits of their children known to me, His son Moses has one foot in the water in the sink and one out, as if already leaving. The world shown in the window is dark.

But, as the remarkable, both precocious and fully formed mature works his Paintings are, there was more. Much more.

The Underground Museum is an ongoing Monument to the legacy of Noah Davis. Here, a model of it, showing its facade, with a mockup of the show ARTISTS OF COLOR, 2017-8, curated by Noah Davis. Mr. Davis left the plans for 18 shows for the UM, as it’s known, when he passed. After finding the space, Noah, his wife, Karon, and their baby, Moses, lived in the UM while it was under construction.

Having dealt with galleries early on, Noah Davis was one of those who came to feel the gallery model doesn’t work for them (something I’ve heard in innumerable conversations). Not an “established” Artist with big resources by any means, he nonetheless then dared to set out to forge his own path. With his wife, Sculptor Karon Davis, he took over 3 storefronts at 3508 West Washington Boulevard in the West Adams section of L.A., and opened what they christened the “Underground Museum” to bring museum quality Art, for free, to an area that was “underserved” by existing institutions.

“Noah wanted a space where he could show the work of himself and his friends. He wanted a space that could exist outside of the gallery/museum matrix,” Helen Molesworth said in a talk she gave at the opening.

The daring of that is only topped by his vision.

Noah Davis speaking in front of LA Nights, 2008, Oil on wood panel, 25 1/2 x 19 1/2 inches, which was also in this show. Photo by Alberto E. Rodriquez/WireImage.

In the first show he mounted at the Underground Museum, Imitation of Wealth, Noah recreated well-known works of Art by Marcel Duchamp, Jeff Koons, On Kawara, Robert Smithson and others that he wasn’t able to borrow the originals of so that the people in this underserved area could experience them. For me, it’s another indication of wide-ranging his knowledge of Art history and his taste was. Robert Rauschenberg famously erased a De Kooning Drawing, but I can’t think of any other Artist who has done such a thing and created an entire show of “pseudo reproductions.” As a first show, Imitation of Wealth was both an auspicious “Hello,” and a shot across the bow of the Art world.

Noah Davis’ first Underground Museum show, Imitation of Wealth, reinstalled at MOCA’s Storefront space in 2015.  The imitation of a “date” Painting, Imitation of Om Kawara. Oct 7, 1957, left, happens to be his father’s birthday. Noah Davis’ Imitation of Marcel Duchamp, 2014 (Bottle Rack) is in front of it, Imitation of Don Flavin (lamp) behind the door, and on the far right, behind his Imitation of Jeff Koons (vacuum on a vitrine), and his Imitation of Robert Smithson with sand and mirrors to the far right LACMA Photo by Fredrick Nilsen.

Helen Molesworth, at the time, Chief Curator of MOCA was impressed enough with his idea to make a three year arrangement with UM to collaborate! An arrangement like this is unheard of. Tell me the other case where a world class museum has made an arrangement like this with an Artist in his early 30s to lend Art and work together to present shows in THEIR space. MOCA reinstalled Imitation of Wealth in their Storefront space in 2015, where it opened the day he passed away. He did live to see works from MOCA lent to the Underground Museum.

Noah Davis knew what was “right” for his Art, and as part of that he also had a vision of the future, of bringing Art to the people, for free. But even by 32, he moved past the vision to create the reality. Today, the UM is an important venue, one that has featured the work of Kerry James Marshall, William Kentridge, Henry Taylor, Kara Walker, and Deana Lawson, Kahlil Joseph, Noah Davis’ brother, among others.

Of all the works in the show, Painting for My Dad, 2011, is the most haunting for me- perhaps the most unforgettable Painting I’ve seen in years. It was Painted while his father was in hospice with terminal cancer. We see his Dad about to embark into an unknown, dark, land with a lantern. The landscape, which strikes me as being distantly descended from Cezanne (which I also felt in Imaginary Enemy, shown earlier) in Noah Davis’ own way, is typical of how Mr. Davis took influences from across Art history and made them his own.

February 22, 2020. Closing day in the third gallery, designed to look a bit like the office at the UM, visitors watch videos and films by Kahlil Joseph, Noah’s brother, and others. I’m holding the camera above my head. Such were the crowds, it took me five minutes to navigate from this spot to the door to the right.

As I sit here now that this unforgettable show has closed, I’m left to wonder. What will last longer…what will have the bigger impact on the future- Noah Davis’ Art, or his example, manifested in the Underground Museum? His vision is their common thread. In the example he set, it seems to me that there is much for Artists to learn-now and in the future.

Letting the UM flag “fly high,” as Jimi Hendrix once said on the closing day in gallery 3. Long may it wave.

You can support the Underground Museum here, or by visiting it. The Noah Davis show is scheduled to open there “soon.”

*- Soundtrack for this post is “Bold As Love,” From Axis: Bold As Love, by Jimi Hendrix.

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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