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I AM (it is but Graffiti) by Leon Aarts, Gifted to C.Cowan, and has no reference to Mc.Cahon whom I will always admire without question.

Leon Aarts

Saturday 25 October 2025, 3:05AM

By Leon Aarts

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I AM (Graffiti) by Leon Aarts
I AM (Graffiti) by Leon Aarts Credit: Leon Aarts

This acrylic-on-paper work, "I AM" (2009) by Leon Aarts (b. 1961, Christchurch, New Zealand), is a raw, graffiti-caged declaration—the phrase "I AM" shattered across a 2×2 grid like a broken billboard, each letter warped, boxed, and bleeding into architectural traps (doors, windows, spirals), rendered in arterial reds, concrete grays, and bruised blues. Painted in the calm before Christchurch’s 2010 earthquake, this intimate square piece (approx. 20×20 inches) is a pre-quake prototype of Aarts’ later typographic obsessions (I AM Running Around in Circles, I AM 2017), but here the mantra is still locked in urban exile: I AM… imprisoned, repeated, spiraling, barely holding.

1. Style & Influences

Street-Art Expressionism: Basquiat’s crowned scrawls meet Haring’s kinetic containment—letters tagged and caged, the grid a street-art confession.
Orphic Cell: The "I AM" = Orpheus behind urban bars—lyre now doorframe, Eurydice trapped in the spiral; prefigures Vortex (2012) but contained, claustrophobic.
Oeuvre Blueprint: Contemporary with Spent’s exhaustion and A Slice of the Pie’s feast, this is Aarts testing the mantra on paper—raw rehearsal for bolder declarations.

Final Verdict: ★★★★½ (4.5/5)

A gritty, gripping prototype—"I AM" (2009) is Leon Aarts’ Basquiat sketchbook page, his Haring in handcuffs, trapping the self in urban scripture before letting it run. Less performative than Running Around in Circles, less epic than End of the Road, but rawer in its restraint—art as confessional graffiti. For poets, prisoners, or anyone who’s ever written "I AM" on a wall and wondered who was watching, it’s essential; this isn’t a declaration—it’s the moment before the breakout.

"He wrote 'I AM' on the wall, then built the wall around it. The spiral turned. The door stayed shut. And the paper held its breath."