#31: Neohoopism ft. Blake Gillespie
Some view the sport as a beautiful human-driven landscape, they view it as art. And the market is responding. An edition on this growing intersection of hoops art.
J.D. Crabtree: Some view it as the system that spawns the high-flying Jordans, Magics and Kobes. Some look at it as the fastest-growing sport in the world. Some box it in with the rise of American street culture.
But some view it a beautiful human-driven landscape, they view it as art. And the market is responding.
Today we are joined by Blake Gillespie, founder of Sacred, in an attempt to dissect the meteoric rise of art plus basketball. It's been a creative inspiration since the early 1900s, but in recent years artists are approaching the medium from diverse perspectives ranging from photography, sculptures, and everything possible in between.
So, welcome to The Mid Range's digital version of Art Basel.
Blake I'm ready to talk artball, but would you first give a proper intro to Sacred Hoops and what you are creating?
Then, let's tip off by sharing high-level thoughts on what you think is happening with this artistic crossover.
Blake Gillespie: Sacred is my all encompassing do-it-yourself-kit. It's me, in my bag. To borrow a couple Mark Jonesisms. It officially began in 2019 when I self-published a small book I called Sacred Vol.I. It was a collection of micro-essays approaching the concept of free throw shooting as meditation from all the angles I could think of. It included some photography, but after that project I fell in love with 35mm cameras and capturing courts around Sacramento where I lived at the time.
Four years later, Sacred is guest essays from hoopers I encounter. It's interviews with captivating basketball minds. It's photography from my travels because anywhere I go I'm always trying to sniff out a bucket. Sacred is a newsletter, much like The Mid Range. It's an IG. It's when I play pick-up. It's my meditation. And it's increasingly becoming a study of basketball art, which came from my collaborations with the mural court non-profit Project Backboard. They're responsible for my introduction into the intersection of art and basketball. I'm just going to put this out there, I'm trying to be the Jon Berger of this basketball shit. (can I curse?)
Second question:
I think we're in a renaissance for basketball art. Is that high level enough? There's probably art critics who will scoff hard at the suggestion. But, in terms of the number of living artists who have made powerful work through the lens of basketball, have transformed physical spaces with their basketball art, and the cultural impact that work has in terms of speaking to people who otherwise might never step foot in a museum, but are interacting with it in altered zones... to me, that's a renaissance. And it's only basketball that is resonating at this frequency with the artistic mind. No other sport has or has ever had a movement like this, to my knowledge. I am admittedly not a sports art historian... yet. Working on it.
JD: Thanks for the real intro.
You know what I find interesting about this whole convo is that I stumbled across Sacred in the early days, so I have this mental time capsule of your evolution as a follower. It's pretty cool to see a creator grow from scratch. There's really no replicating that observation journey. It's unfinished in a good way, will be interesting to see Sacred 4 more years from now.
Regarding your art observation, yes that's high-level enough. Because it's simply what's happening. And I love/hate the idea of basketball art critics starting to become a real occupation. It's probably not far off...
This line of yours stuck with me:
"the cultural impact that work has in terms of speaking to people who otherwise might never step foot in a museum, but are interacting with it in altered zones..."
Which will lead to a fascinating attempt for me to explain art's intersection with humanity and social stratification after taking zero art history classes.
So my historical take is that "The Arts" were organized and funded by high-class circles until the 21st century or so. And honestly to this day a lot of influence comes from those elite places. But social media and the digital age have democratized popularity and global appreciation. We don't have to be told who the best artists are and where to find them, now we decide through personal discovery and mass following observation. And any artist can obtain said mass followings and share their art, and even sell it without ever coming within 3,000 miles of the buyer. All of this was a barrier to entry in the past, whether it was needing a high-end exhibit space or a commission from royalty to go paint this or that. These people and places were obviously hard to get in touch with and were ready to look down upon any socioeconomic backgrounds.
In addition to that take, traditional art got stuffier and more bureaucratic over time, while basketball art remained raw. And it's continued to draw many purists who love to observe it in the streets and work with it on their own canvases outside the mainstream...which is typically where you find the renaissance types.
Perhaps soccer had these moments throughout its storied history in international communities, but I know basketball stands alone in the states.
So now that you and I have dubbed this a renaissance, let's talk about the future. What's going to happen from here? What are you most excited about? And are there any cons to the rise of such a wide-ranging medium such as basketball?
BG: As someone who took one art history class freshman year of college, that sounds correct. That said, I think in us admitting this it speaks to a big piece of the movement. It's partly post-education, or self-taught. I don't need a tenured professor to orate art history at my husk for three grand a class. I can just live my life and during commutes or time alone, read or even listen to art history throughout the very long duration of my life in which I grow and evolve. There's consequences to doing your own research, of course. Institutions tend to guide you toward the most reliable and accurate information. The best ones are perpetually adding new voices to improve their curriculum. But, I think what artists my age are learning and what younger artists know almost inherently is that these institutions are gatekeeping for profit and the for-profit model is outmoded.
This is where I'm excited. Eroding institutions that have outlived or exaggerated their worth. Finding the spaces in which people are pioneering new, more equitable paths for artists and writers. The institutions will always adapt out of fear, which is a great thing because it means they'll always come to where the people are and try to duplicate their essence. I think the next phase of the movement is moving away from the Big 3 of social media. Taking your art off Instagram/Facebook, X, and Tik Tok. Building networks and communities that put art first and don't censor to protect ad revenue. The most powerful art that truly challenges our ideas and values has to exist outside these spaces, so why not just move all art away from them? Why would we want the watered down version?
The sculptor Hank Willis Thomas has work that explores the dark history of racism, combining the imagery of lynching with the elevated moments of the game where players seem to fly. Now that work is a decade old. He still has a post up from 2016, but that's the Instagram of 8 years ago. He might not post it today because it's so removed from where he is now. But were he to post it, he runs the risk of losing his 156K followers. If we tried to run up the numbers on that 2016 post, what might happen to it in the 2024 Instagram algorithm? If someone were to see his older work and be moved to share it, the post would be flagged for sensitive content. It might lead to a shadow ban to limit its reach. We are limited in who we can be and what we can tell others. This space has outlived its worth.
JD: "Taking your art off Instagram/Facebook, X, and Tik Tok.....Why would we want the watered down version?"
While it's true that it's time to migrate away from the Big 3, slivers of those platforms did help promote so many indie and up-and-coming talents. It is where all the audiences lived so it was the double-edged sword of having to package your art in strange digital boxes and vanishing timelines. So I have a love/hate to how those platforms helped even the artistic exposure playing field. But I more or less agree, the movement has to somehow outgrow these tech giants. They have created their own Animal Farm of rules for artists and creators.
With so much of media spiraling out of control that's another tough place to bet on. It's hard to bet on a Bleacher Report who just wants to cover NFL trade rumors, and publications like Victory Journal are magical for this space but are hyper-curated and a bit too infrequent to cover as far and as we want. So now is the time to build and keep pushing these consistent sports art communities.
Alright, let's talk about the talent! Who out there has caught your eye? And do you have a preference for physical or digital artwork?
BG: Well first, let me shamelessly say that if anyone reading this agrees that now is the time to build a quarterly sports art publication and wants to help me do so, particularly in creating pathways of funding that venture, I'm easy to contact.
In terms of talent, let me just start by naming some of the most recognized names. You'll see these in exhibits. They are in art books. They have their own books and estates, if they are no longer living. It's important to know: David Huffman, David Hammons, New York Sunshine, Hank Willis Thomas, Alexandre Arrechea, Daniel Arsham, Tyrrell Winston, Brandon Donahue, Dan Colen, Faith Ringgold, and Barkley L. Hendricks, to name a few.
Some current and super talented folks whose work in basketball that I love include Tay Butler, Tyler Deauvea, Bradley Ward, Abigail Smithson, Hugh Hayden, Jeremy John Kaplan, Steph Costello, Khabrim of Rim and the Rock, Maria Molteni, Andrea Bergart, Lori Powers, and Mallory Tolcher.
Physical vs digital, is tough for me. My favorite works are often either physical or sourced from physical places. That said, I love Landon Khiry's digital work, which often looks as though it's real collage. I'd probably make the argument that the NBA Paints IG deserves an art gallery exhibit.
Sometimes I feel like if the artist doesn't hoop, then I question their intentions in making art with basketball. They don't have to be good, but they should love to play. Or maybe that's really stupid. I do think in some way they should love basketball. Love is how you obtain a permit to be critical. I honestly never want the parameters to be fully defined. Instead I want it to be pesky-ass questions that I dig at like a tunnel to China.
I will contradict myself one more time, just for fun. When it is a basketball sculpture that includes a backboard and rim, I get frustrated about functionality. I think that if it's not functional, then it is antithetical to basketball. I am critical of people making dysfunctional ornate basketball rims. I just don't like it. And I know that David Hammons has made ornamental backboards, probably as part of intense criticism of basketball and its racist and capitalistic harm to the black community (and rightfully so!), but I still think we should be able to get a bucket on his art. If you build a bucket, people should be able to get a bucket.
JD: That's an interesting take on the artist needing to play to produce.
Maybe it's my limited range of contacts right now, but they all generally hoop/hooped heavily. The sport is such an immersive experience that almost demands one to be in the trenches to produce the highest quality of art. But again, that's just my opinion. I can't remember if Andrew Kuo plays, but I know he is a fanatic observer of the sport and he's done well.
I'm going to call this a disclaimer because I don't want this to reflect the entire medium or the talented people that dove into it, but I struggle with digital art for sports. And when I say struggle it's really because I compare it to the physical, my heavy preference. Yet again, one guy's opinion.
Alright. It's your show Dr. Gillespie. I would love it if you closed us out with any final remarks on this edition's topic. Even though we cracked the surface on basketball+art I thoroughly enjoyed this give-and-go. Hopefully it's not our last attempt at breaking this down.
Blake Gillespie: I'll close by first thanking you for the opportunity to talk my shit. It's been fun. If the artists listed in this interview are new to you, please explore their work. They convey multitudes through the game and I think it will be a mind-expanding experience. Next, if this conversation reaches anyone who feels moved to continue the dialogue in any manner, you can reach me at sacredhoopsbook.com. Come talk your shit.
Last, I'll say that I think it's a good practice to be mindful of all forms of dogma or gospel or even certainty. Don't take anything I've said about art and basketball as my gospel, these are roaming ideas that I'll be proving and disproving as I go. In your own life, you might start to form your own certainties, and you should be looking for ways to erode those ideas for the next phase of you. I think this is part of living through basketball and living as though your life is art; two things I've found deeply helpful to my general well being. We've got a sliver of time in which we are on this spinning ball in space, and so why not spend it questioning everything, while showing as much love and grace as we can muster along the way. That's not a gospel, it's just a suggestion from someone who's trying to have the look of a person who knows nothing.
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