CryptoFlossing

Last night I went to the for some much-needed laughter with (hilarious!). But the real story wasn’t comedy—it was Purvis Young.

I first saw Purvis’ work at the House of Blues in Chicago over twenty years ago. My deeper introduction came around 2010 through gallery owners and collectors in Reading, , and those magical Art Basel years in Miami.

That’s when his art and legacy truly imprinted on me. His work is raw, unfiltered, rooted in poetry of struggle and survival.

Seeing major collections pushed me to start collecting big, intentional bodies of art like Frito Bastien and Haitian art. Not just what looked pretty, but important art and demanded to be remembered.

Purvis Young was a self-taught Miami artist who painted political reckoning long before it was fashionable. His brushstrokes were deeply embedded with revolt, resilience, and resistance… the same spirit alive today in movements from Nepal to France.

He painted angels, horses, protests, and people using found wood and scrap boards. His materials and subjects were inseparable from his message.

His art is a testimony, nod to history, and a much needed prophecy.

I applaud the House of Blues has one of the largest permanent folk art collections in the country, with works by self-taught African American artists like Purvis. They’ve shown pieces such as Tigrett and Young, Truck, Watching Over, Come Together, and his famous Freedom Fence.

For decades, they’ve made art part of the fabric of their spaces, curating around human expression, racial equality, and spiritual harmony.

For me, seeing Purvis’ work again is always “back down memory lane”—a reminder of why I fell in love with folk and outsider artists in the first place.

As a dealer, I’ve been blessed to work with artists who, like Purvis, who created art without permission or apology.

Purvis Young isn’t just important… he’s essential. He painted the soul of Miami, and in doing so, he painted the world. 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

You know you’re in for a treat when EVERY museum attendant beams with glee the moment you ask for directions to the Superfine exhibit!

At first, I wondered why the exhibit began with European fashion or rather our remixing and reimagining of it. That question was quickly erased by the vast depth of themes and installations.

The exhibition unfolded across 12 themes: freedom, beauty, ownership, presence, distinction, disguise, champion, respectability, jook, heritage, cool, and cosmopolitan.

opened with ownership—an act of quiet rebellion that led to Freedom and Distinction with Toussaint L’Ouverture and other forefathers of Black liberation. Proud moment for my mom. (2)

Crushed velvet adorned with cowrie shells… literal drip, an ode to the “visual language of Blackness in dress.” (3)

Talisman (not pictured)—modern-day gold chains and necklaces—were “intended to transport, protect, or empower the bearer.”

The practice of money pinning, noted as “perhaps derived from West African custom,” reclaims the concept of wearing and showering of money as a nod of celebrating the wealth we hold as royalty. (4)

From futuristic bursts of color to high-end fashion houses, Virgil Abloh’s Off-White and collabs with designers Ib Kamara and Maximilian were brilliant juxtapositions of doing the most while being minimalist. (5,6,7,8,9)

PS Love how the exhibit was designed NOT to be linear, it allowed you to move with the crowd, stepping back and forward in time.

The Harlem renaissance is one of my fav periods because of the surge of Black creatives. Respectability, reminded me of the power of assimilation. Get in, remix it and take over. (10)

Example “Zoot suit being a symbol of transgression, joy, and youth in its rejection of traditional tailoring.” From Mexicanos to Josephine Baker pictured in traditional tux, entering white spaces leaving immeasurably impact. (11,12)

Andre Leon Talley, once “the most powerful Black voice in fashion” left so much to be adored and desired in all his grander. High fashion, beauty and cool has never been the same without our, the Black influence. (13,14,15,16,17,18,19)

The beginning… (20)