Apocalypse (9) by Keith Haring dives deep into a fusion of chaos, antiquity, and biting commentary. Set against a pristine white backdrop, the piece is overtaken by a blue-green abstract shape. A demonic profile grasps a black, bulbous entity in its sharp teeth, from which black ink ominously drips. As with prior works, the “devil sperm” makes an appearance, though here its presence is understated, almost a whisper amidst the clamor. William Burroughs’ text, which inspired and is mirrored by Haring’s print, reads as follows:
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Force let it come, skyscrapers scrape rents of the final Apocalypse in the sky, dream rivers splashing color across solid roads and buildings, AMOK art vitality stirring passions of metal blur by writhing in mineral lusts. Walls of glass melt OFF THE TRACK OFF a billion crazed eyes, the sidewalks run feet and tires, chimneys ejaculate blue tunnels break out graffiti village pulled across the sky in flaming colors.
A vividly-rendered man is depicted, bound and suspended upside-down, with blotches of yellow splashing around him. Nearby, a thick black line tracing an abstract form is crowned by an eye, reminiscent of a sunny-side-up egg, perhaps symbolizing fragility in chaos.
Haring’s collage elements integrate a historic touch: the 19th-century portrait of Saint Fabiola appears in this image as it does in several others from the Apocalypse series. Haring morphs this symbol of compassion and sacrifice into the head of a sinister creature, suggesting both the refuge and failures of the healthcare system in the AIDS epidemic. Fabiola’s visage, now stylized with Haring’s pop-graffiti flair, rests atop a red, sphinx-like body, complete with hands cradling a chalice emanating a dubious energy. Ornate cartooning, from her beaded necklace and medallion to a crown with miniature antlers, infuses the ancient with the contemporary.
Through this juxtaposition of history and graffiti, Haring initiates a discourse on HIV/AIDS, blending high art and street culture. In Apocalypse 9, the looming end of days is inextricably tied to the AIDS epidemic, and Haring’s imagery reverberates a stern caution on the double-edged sword of (com)passion.
