An immersive London exhibition summons the power and joy of Keith Haring’s subway drawings

“He stalks the New York City subways, waiting for his chance to strike. When the opportunity comes, he moves fast. He has to.”

Thus began an October 1982 CBS news report that introduced the world to Keith Haring, who was at this point already an artist of note, though not yet the superstar he would become. Back then, adverts would be pasted onto black, vertical rectangles that lined New York subway stations. If one happened to be vacant, Haring would descend, with a piece of chalk in one hand, and hastily graffiti it with his simple cartoon figures – an iconic design that now adorns everything from phone cases to T-shirts from H&M.

For all that he’s now widely revered, though, the Pennsylvania-born artist was very much operating outside of the system with the subway works, which were created between 1980 and 1985. “Technically,” CBS noted, “what he’s doing is illegal”, before broadcasting one of his numerous arrests for vandalism.

That report plays on a TV screen in Voice of the Street, the immersive new exhibition at central London’s Moco Museum, the independent contemporary art gallery that also has outposts in Barcelona and Amsterdam. More than 30 of Haring’s early ‘80s guerrilla subway drawings are currently on display at Moco, with alien spaceships, the aforementioned figures and his immortal ‘radiant baby’ – a crouched infant exuding straight lines that denote innocence and light – jostling for space.

The relevant section of the gallery, meanwhile, has been remodelled in the style of an ‘80s subway carriage: a tiled wall bearing an old-fashioned telephone and a sign declaring “UPTOWN TRAINS” contribute to its rich depiction of Haring’s world. Moco was mindful, explains its Chief Exhibition, Collection & Operational Officer Birthe Faessen, that the experiential elements didn’t overwhelm the understated power of Haring’s art.

“Because we’re telling the story of Keith Haring, set in the background of 1980s New York,” she says, “it becomes important to [set the scene] because it was such a dynamic society back then. All artists create from specific circumstances, but when you recreate something like this, you want to make sure that it is true to the feeling. You don’t want to under-do it; you don’t want to overdo it.”

Work began at the start of the year. As with any creative process, the curation of the exhibition was a matter of trial and error. At one point, the space was accessible via an historically faithful subway entrance and featured a vintage Louis Vuitton suitcase, as though a passenger had plonked their possessions down to admire the art. “You don’t want to make it gimmicky,” notes Faessen. “So then the process begins: ‘Let’s eliminate some of these items so that the art can speak and visitors still feel that they’re in the 1980s.’”

After Faessen and the team stripped back certain elements (visitors will need to head down the road to Oxford Street if they really want to see a Louis Vuitton suitcase), the early renders looked too sparse. Thankfully, a fabulous neon sign that reads “OPEN 24 HOURS” is one of the props that returned to the fold, resulting in an exhibition that is both playful and accessible.

For Lionel Logchies-Prins, who co-founded the gallery with his wife Kim in 2016, that last word is crucial. “Haring,” he says, “believed that art should be accessible to everyone, which is also central to Moco. His subway drawings are the clearest expression of that idea, created in public, for the public.

“His work invites people into a shared experience, and that sense of openness and connection is something we continue to value. It shows how art can speak to everyone, without losing depth.”

Indeed, the exhibition fully explores the fact that Haring was making unapologetic, subversive art at a time when, as an openly gay man, his very existence was stigmatised amid the AIDS crisis. Some of the subway drawings depict bodies entwined in a celebration of intimacy, signalling Haring’s message of defiance in the face of a hostile media.

Haring was so inspired that he reportedly created up to 50 subway artworks per day and around 5000 in total. Countless drawings disappeared forever, while some were ripped down from the walls by enamoured travellers (many on display at Moco have suitably ragged edges). A number of these fell into the hands of collectors, with a collection of 31 subway drawings sold for $9.2m (£7.4m) at Sotheby’s in 2024 – not bad considering they could originally have been acquired for the price of a one-way ticket.

Of course, what’s really important is Haring’s worldview, which Voice of the Street has brought vividly to life some 36 years after his death from AIDS-related complications. “His message of love, acceptance, joy, resistance and vulnerability,” says Birthe Faessen, “is so relevant when there’s so much going on at a social and societal level today.”

It’s here that the exhibition’s immersive elements come into their own. “I'm hoping that if anybody walks away from this exhibition having a conversation,” says Faessen, “it’s about what is happening now or what happened back then.”

Voice of the Street is open at Moco Museum London for a limited three-month run