--8alldaye-by-cruz copy

I’ve never felt more innately connected to someone with whom I’ve never shared conventional contact; but that is the beautiful mystery that is the Great Mister Daye. He conveys and connects with the world and the one individual alike, because he is his work; as with any masterpiece, that connection lives in the unconventional void – where authenticity cannot be barred by limitation, and catharsis cannot be marred by sterile sanity. He lives in his work – it is in that shared space where I feel, and it is in that shared experience where life is present.

As an anydenizen: Kendrick is a Southern boy, a neer-do-well, a halogenic hipster setting up art-camp in Harlem. As an artist: Kendrick blends the most abstractly familiar elements of life – love, envy, wealth, wrath, perception, desire, greed, necessity, lust, identity, indulgence, ideals, ego, morals, said bankruptcy, and fears – with the rawest veneer of famous faces. His pieces are pastiches – whole in-and-of themselves but even more so in context of one another. Pop & Politics are alive and well-contented bedfellows in this world. The personal space stands as the pre-eminent public place of judgment. Shadows dance in rigid rhythmic formation with neon strobes. The entire world coalesces into a kaleidoscopic cultural landscape… where we are presented with our own selves from before the mass-mediated mirror of Pop life.

It is arduous. It is bright. It is delusional. It is hidden in prismatic view. It is seeing roses through Reagan-colored sunglasses. It is waking up to the first Pink Friday after Sunday mourning. It is the scene sweet-tooth before and beneath the staid urban decay. It is everything in one place, in distorted focus, for no other reason than for you to see it; because we’ve been blinded by the guided light, because we need to throw shade if only to stargaze again.

His art lives, loves, laughs, lauds, lambastes, legislates, and promulgates on behalf of true Pop. It unravels the American tapestry because we were wound too tightly; it dims the lights because they blind so brightly; it hearkens to the dawn though it heralds nightly; and all it takes is a liberated lid to refresh the mind and see what I see: if you want to see a sad boy shine – pay him; if you want to see a sad boy smile – pay attention.

Words by Swiper Bootz
Photography by Cruz Caldera

Save

ggCRZ5414_rt_web copy

Selected Work

frame-2
frame-34
frame-3
bigsean
bigsean2
purple-frame-big-sean
25946370592_ab68053d57_b copy
ffUntitled-3
hh25434142324_9d71bf8e74_b copy copy
darkUntitled-4
redefine-love
obama-framed
drugs-framed
heartthrob
yellow-me
yellow-left
27214552980_caa6e97af6_b
yellow-right
24845621280_4b614291be_b
want
you
black-framed
nina-
25115045656_d6ed40290e_b
24845727900_d824ca304a_b
dontworry

 Contact

*

*

*

me-me-me