Kenny Scharf: When Worlds Collide - guilty of the 'f' word: Fun

REVIEW by Drew Rowsome

14 APR 2021 - photos supplied by publicist

Artists are usually fascinating subjects for documentaries, but art criticism is usually quite dull. The documentary Kenny Scharf: When Worlds Collide manages to mix the two to an entertaining and enlightening effect. It helps that Scharf's artwork is so playful, vivid and engaging. Even those who have not seen his work in a fine art setting, a gallery or even online, will find it familiar. Some of Scharf's street art still survives even if just in photographs and films of New York City in the '80s, the ambience of which he helped define. Or his cover art for the B-52's Bouncing Off the Satellites. I was lucky enough to experience his contribution to the Wynwood Walls project in Miami but certainly had no background information or references other than a recognition of the style and the name. Turns out that is a common problem with Scharf's remarkable career.

The film is structured chronologically with Scharf growing up in the '60s in LA where he says, "Everything is pop, plastic and bright." We also get snippets from art critics, curators, friends and fellow artists, the first of which is his mother who marvels at his nascent skills. The second, a childhood friend who describes Scharf's early work as "kooky and sinister." Inspired by the New York scene revolving around Andy Warhol - which seemed like "the most fun thing ever" - Scharf moved to NYC in '79 and set about making a name for himself. This section of Kenny Scharf is the portion that rivals the excitement and energy of Scharf's work itself. He dabbles in performance art and video art but it is his graffiti art that takes him to the next level. He becomes part of an art world trio - himself, Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat - who took pop art to the next level. As a critic says, "making art less precious and more accessible." And another notes, "A club scene evolved into an art scene."

Scharf and Haring were roommates as well as fierce competitors, Scharf claims to not remember why he and Basquiat fell out. Klaus Nomi rehearsed in the building behind their apartment, Ann Magnuson and John Sex were co-conspirators for club performances. One aches to see more footage of an evening where Scharf played Lawrence Welk for a themed night at the legendary Club 57. Again talking heads explain why Scharf's art was taken less seriously than the other two, both of whom became critical and financial superstars. Scharf's sense of humour, and as Scharf himself says "I was guilty of the 'f' word. Fun," led to carping that his work was cartoonish. He also borrowed liberally from the television culture of his youth, using literal cartoon characters like the Flintstone and the Jetsons in his work. He toyed with renaming himself "Jet Scharf" and intones that his work is "Jetsonism, a division of the religion of Hana-Barberism, the fun part." Unmentioned is that both Haring and Basquiat died young, a sure way of securing a legacy, while Scharf continued working.

Then AIDS hit and NYC was no longer a non-stop party. Following much footage of Haring frolicking with Scharf's children, Scharf's account of Haring's passing is wrenching. Scharf moves to Brazil and nature and an eco-consciousness enters his work. He paints haunting foliage full of faces and recycles beach trash into sculptures. From outer space he has moved to a surreal real world. A darkness enters his work when he and his family move to Miami where he first encounters financial troubles. The talking heads continue to pop up to explain the evolution of Scharf's work and where it fits into the art zeitgeist. Of the dangers of mixing genres and creating street art for free, letting worlds collide. Scharf talks of trading a painting for dental work for his children, a critic explains that to keep creating sometimes an artist "hangs on by [their] fingernails. But all you need are fingernails." As the camera watches Scharf constantly at motion in his various studios, or spontaneously creating spray-paint couture, we already understand his compulsion, his need to create.

Throughout the film we see samples of Scharf's prodigious output. Each one intriguing enough to induce a desire to see more, each one reinforcing his childhood friend's assessment. It also doesn't hurt that Scharf is charismatic, even when we can see him calculating at what effect he is having. The constant trace of insecurity and self-deprecation only adds to his appeal. As does his penchant for being shirtless, going from a boy toy magnet for Warhol ("He kept plucking feathers out of a woman's hat and putting them in my hair") to DILF.  As the film, and by extension Scharf's history, comes full circle and he returns to LA, he continues to create constantly, but has also become a doting grandfather to two rambunctious tots. The Picasso quote, "All children are artists, the problem is how to remain an artist once you grow up," the film begins with, snaps into focus and resonates with a talking head who has added a dry and slightly pompous description of art creation as play. Whether or not Scharf ever grew up is open-ended, but he sure knows how to remain an artist. Inspiring.

"When Worlds Collide" is not only the second half of the title of the film, it is also the title of the first work that Scharf sold to the Whitney Museum of American Art, an achievement his rightfully proud of. He stands before the impressively huge canvas and, with a twinkle in his eye and a faked dive into the artwork, intones that his work is the collision of outer space with inner space. His work, his life, is composed of collisions, mirrored by the structure of the film. Graffiti collides with galleries, club culture with high art, Jetsonism with abstract expressionism, creating art with family responsibility. And he is still collecting garbage. He dumps out the day's hall and sorts through cheerfully explaining that he believes in "not wasting precious plastic, you can turn it into bathroom sculpture." Decades after he and Haring turned their living space into an art installation, Scharf is still happily letting worlds collide.