“KEITH FROM KUTZTOWN’

Throughout much of the 1980s, Haring was art royalty. His works were exhibited across the globe; he created a mural on the Berlin Wall; he designed sets for MTV and he contributed a painting for the Live Aid concert in Philadelphia. Andy Warhol, Yoko Ono and Madonna were among his friends.

Though he spent his post-high school years outside of Berks County – first attending college in Pittsburgh, then finding his new home in New York – Haring never forgot his roots, often introducing himself as “Keith from Kutztown” and keeping in touch with acquaintances in the area.

“I think one of the greatest things about him was that he was available,” says Carroll, who met Haring, then a quiet high school student, soon after New Arts launched in 1974.

“Most artists are not accessible to anybody other than themselves. If you asked him to do anything, he would do it if you had a reason for it. I called him a couple times and asked him to do a work to advertise something, and there was no question about it.”

Haring’s accessibility permeated his work as well, which managed to balance critical and public acclaim — never an easy feat. He first gained prominence in New York City subway stations, creating chalk drawings of boldly outlined figures and dogs on blacked-out advertising spaces.

“Just because his work was accessible doesn’t mean that it wasn’t serious art, because it was,” says George Hatza, a freelance arts writer and the former entertainment editor of the Reading Eagle. “He was one of the first artists who wholeheartedly adopted an immersive art experience. When he started in the subways, that was no accident. That was his canvas. It was where people would see it and relate to it because it was about them. It was a brilliant decision.”

Hatza, who frequently commuted to New York City to attend theater performances during his professional career, remembers the first story he read about Haring in the New York Times and how floored he was when it mentioned Kutztown. After that, he became a devotee. As his career progressed, Haring’s work became more political, warning against drug use and advocating for LGBTQ+ issues.

“I admired him for that,” Hatza says. “I thought it was gutsy. I think he wanted it out there, and I believe he thought it was time and that maybe his fame might in some way advance the movement, which not only was a smart thing to do but also a caring thing to do.”

Carroll was lucky enough to have seen his creative spark in action, stopping by New York’s Whitney Museum of American Art in the 1980s when Haring

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“He was just about ready to start painting it, and I happened to be there when he started,” Carroll says. “Keith never made any pre-sketches. Whenever he made something, that was it. He first stood in front of it and moved his head, twisting it back and forth, and slowly walked in front of it. And then he took the paint, got on the ladder and did it. It was not something that he had to sketch out; it was in his mind.”

Not surprisingly, given where it was created, an urban aesthetic dominated his work. But his Berks upbringing percolated underneath.

“There is a deceptive simplicity to Haring’s figures that suggests both urban and rural influences,” Hatza says. “There’s something about them that looks not of New York, that looks from the wild. And maybe it goes back to his childhood because there’s something primitive about it, too.”