Daniel Brade

Daniel Brade showed up in New York in the late 1970s with a satchel full of Xeroxed drawings—black-and-white, jagged, like circuit diagrams for dreams. He’d leave stacks of them in diners and bus stations, treating the city like a public sketchbook. One set landed on a downtown table where Jean-Michel Basquiat ate, and Basquiat scribbled “SAME” on the corner before walking out. You can still find those fly-posted sheets in MoMA’s study room under the call number “Drawings A-G, Box 22.”