By James Calloway
In the heart of downtown Los Angeles, on a warm summer evening in 2019, an unassuming warehouse transformed into an electrifying space that would become the birthplace of an art movement. The air was thick with anticipation, and the energy was palpable. Those in attendance would later say that it felt like stepping into history. This was the night Pierre Simone, a then-little-known Haitian artist, held his first major solo exhibition—a pop-up event that would catapult him onto the international art scene.
The exhibition, hosted in a repurposed industrial space near Skid Row, was not your typical gallery event. This was something different. The walls were draped with large-scale canvases, each pulsating with emotion—a chaotic yet calculated mixture of abstraction and figuration. Each brushstroke carried a sense of urgency, a message that could not wait to be told. The pieces, heavily influenced by his Haitian roots, depicted fragments of memory, pain, resilience, and survival. Some called it a fusion of Basquiat and Kandinsky; others said it was something entirely new.
The event itself was curated with the same daring and fearless energy that Pierre Simone poured into his work. There were no white walls and hushed conversations—this was an immersive experience. Graffiti-lined corridors led guests to the main exhibition hall, where the bass from the DJ booth reverberated through the floor. Simone had enlisted underground LA DJs known for blending hip-hop, Caribbean rhythms, and electronic beats, ensuring the atmosphere was more block party than traditional gallery opening.
Among the crowd were skaters, musicians, fashion designers, and art critics alike, drawn together by whispers of something groundbreaking. Even seasoned art collectors, usually found at more established gallery events, had made their way to see what the commotion was about. “I didn’t know what to expect,” recalled one guest, a collector from Silver Lake. “But as soon as I walked in, I could feel it—this was special.”
One particular moment solidified the night as a pivotal one. As the energy reached its peak, Pierre Simone, known for being reclusive in the past, took the stage in front of one of his most powerful pieces: a ten-foot-wide painting that depicted fragmented figures interwoven with vibrant neon hues. With a spray can in hand, he tagged the words “Nou La” across it—Creole for “We are here.” The crowd erupted. It was a declaration, an arrival.
As the night went on, the pop-up exhibition became more than an art show—it became a movement. The event extended far beyond its scheduled time, with people lingering in the space long after the music had stopped, discussing the impact of what they had just witnessed. “It felt like watching Basquiat’s early days,” said a young graffiti artist from Venice Beach. “Like, I’ll be telling people years from now that I was here.”
Local art blogs quickly picked up on what had transpired, labeling Simone as “the next great disruptor in contemporary art.” Within weeks, his work started appearing in underground exhibitions across the city, and his name was circulating among LA’s elite creatives. The exhibition’s success led to invites from Miami’s thriving art scene, where collectors and curators were eager to see the artist that had captivated the West Coast.
Pierre Simone’s LA pop-up was more than just a debut—it was the ignition of a force that would shape his career. It was an event where art wasn’t just displayed; it was felt, absorbed, and lived. It was the night an artist from Haiti turned an anonymous warehouse in Los Angeles into the center of the art world, if only for one unforgettable evening.
