New York, 1970’s–A lone figure stands on a platform. The distant rumble of approaching trains echoes through the tunnel, blending with the murmurs of commuters and the occasional sharp whistle of metal grinding on the tracks. People may be hurrying by to get where they are going, but his eyes are fixed, waiting for the moment to unfold. The train he painted earlier is about to come around the bend and into the light, unveiling his newest creation for the first time that would go on to travel throughout the city. He knows the schedule by heart and feeling the thrill rise, he holds his trusty 110 camera (his loyal companion) to his face, narrowing his eye through the viewfinder- waits for the perfect moment, and snaps the camera, capturing the moment with a soft click —It’s not just the image he just captured; it’s the feeling he’s chasing—the desire to document his hidden expressions, his subtle revolt, a personal mark left in an impersonal world. The paint is fresh, the colors vibrant, the image unspoiled by the grit, the weather, or the wear of New York City.
Satisfied, he tucks the camera away and heads for the Photomat, a little kiosk that has become a familiar stop in his routine. As the images develop, so does the story of his work, which is the mark left behind in the unlikeliest places.
Today, Chris Ellis, aka “Daze,” has had a career spanning over four decades, and has been a driving force in the urban art movement. His unique blend of street art, graffiti, and contemporary works has earned him tremendous respect for redefining art and public expression. His impact on the art world is not just significant; it’s inspiring.
Where did it all begin?
As a kid, the world of trains and graffiti wasn’t just something that caught Chris Ellis’ eye—it would become a gateway to a whole new world. Daze was born and raised in Crown Heights. His family spent many of their weekends at Coney Island. From a young age, he displayed a natural gift for drawing and painting. His block, family, and friends helped shape his artistic journey. Living in an urban city surrounded by this dynamic energy started with curiosity: seeing the streaks of color on the sides of moving trains, he would wonder who the mysterious artists were who created them and what the marks meant.
His mother, a quiet yet steady influence, was always supportive and, being a little artistic herself, helped him put his portfolio together for his application to attend the High School of Art and Design. It was there he met and developed a kinship with the other graffiti writers, and a sense of community developed. In the lunch room, they would help and advise one another on what worked and what didn’t. Daze told me he learned the importance of timing in collaborating, finding inspiration and a sense of belonging, which would set the foundation for a career that would impact the art world until today.
The name “DAZE” was born from the letters themselves. He liked how they flowed together and how the name sounded. It wasn’t only a word, but an identity reflecting how he saw the World and how he wanted the World to see him. Graffiti wasn’t just about painting trains or spray cans—it was about the stories he could tell through his art and the mark he could leave that might never be fully understood but always felt.
Because he had already taken art classes through high school, he decided to opt out of art college and took a leap of faith to chase his passion full-time. So, instead of a college classroom, he gained real-world opportunities, being included in shows in places like the iconic Mudd Club and Fashion Moda in the Bronx. As he says, it was scary as he was not sure how he would support himself, but the excitement of his work beginning to gain recognition was enough to keep him pushing forward. He could not have picked a better time to do this.
He has had many solo exhibitions at the Palais Liechtenstein, Austria; Musée d’Art Moderne et d’Art Contemporain, Galleria del Palazzo, Italy; Fortune Cookie Projects, Singapore; The Museum of the City of New York, NY; His work can also be found in the permanent collections of the Whitney Museum, New York, NY; Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY; Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum, Germany; Yale University Art Gallery, and Addison Gallery of American Art; among others. He has also left his imprint through large-scale public art projects worldwide in Asia, Europe, and South America. He designed a train station in Hannover, Germany, with artists Lee Quinones and Crash and contributed to the Dreamland Social Club project with Creative Time. His mark also expands into movies and television as an art consultant for Baz Luhrmann’s Netflix series, “The Get Down,” where you can get a glimpse of what life was like for him, see his art in clips on old trains, and gain an accurate glimpse into the grungy streets of NY at that time and understand just how tough you had to be to make it. Today, whether painting walls or exhibiting in museums, he remains fastened by a history of daring, unapologetic artists.
The Emergence of Daze
He adopted his graffiti name as part of the street art culture of the late 1970s and early 1980s in New York City. Like many street artists of that era, he chose a short, impactful name with a sense of mystery or energy. He developed his style using bright colors, playful shapes, and a sense of movement. His work often featured impulsive characters and patterns, reflecting his imagination and the urban setting. Daze’s art was not just a means of self-expression but a commentary on the World around him.
Painting or tagging trains consumed most of his time and energy as a youth. “It was like learning how to play a musical instrument” without any kind of training,” he recalls with a laugh.
In the early 1980s, as the graffiti movement evolved, Daze consciously stepped away from painting trains, passing the torch to the next generation while channeling his creativity into canvases, galleries, and broader artistic practice.
Transition to Gallery Exhibitions
His journey took a significant turn in the mid-80s. Daze was at the forefront of the burgeoning graffiti scene. In 1980s New York City, the lines between nightclubs and galleries blurred. According to Daze, It was a time that echoed the vibrancy of the ’60s. The art vibe in New York’s ’70s felt strange to him, but the ’80s came in with an explosion of energy, reshaping everything. The Village was full of small storefront galleries that were more than just places to look at art; they were spaces where culture and subculture collided.
With the social scene overlapping with the art scene, he told me a week would never pass without something happening. It was electric, and Daze was in the thick of it. He would go out 5-7 nights a week, meeting people, soaking in the energy, witnessing and partaking in an essential part of the art world’s evolution. His talent soon caught the attention of the downtown art world, leading to his first notable break—a group exhibition at the iconic Mudd Club, curated by Fab Five Freddy and Futura, where he once collaborated with Jean-Michel Basquiat. This marked the start of Daze’s shift into the studio, where he began to explore new techniques and mediums, and his artistry evolved beyond the streets.
DP: What was it that got you really involved in street art?
DAZE: I went to the High School of Art and Design, so I always thought I would become a comic book artist or do something more commercial because those were my options for attending art school. And it wasn’t until 1980 or 81 that I started making my first paintings. I thought, wow, I could do this. It is interesting, and I could continue doing this and make a living from it.
I had a painting in this show at the Mudd Club. It was called “Beyond Words,” and Fab Five Freddie and Futura curated it. It was in a space that Keith Haring organized. So many artists were in it, people who are now famous.
I cooperated with Jean Michel Basquiat, which wasn’t even a collab. There was some newsprint wrapped around a refrigerator. We wrapped it around the fridge because we were trying to camouflage it somehow. So you could walk into this gallery space and not see a fridge. He and I drew all over it, and then somebody bought it! And I was really shocked. I thought, wow, this is great! It was enough to take my friends and me out for a few dinners or something like that. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was exciting.
Slowly but surely, I exhibited more work and sold a little bit. And at that point, momentum started to build up. Other things were simultaneously happening, like the East Village art scene and alternative spaces, and people like Tony Shafrazi were interested in work. So I started to think I should start trying to do this full-time, and eventually, I made enough money to get a studio in the Bronx, and people were going up there. So I got a cheap space with no heat or hot water. But, it was at least 1500 square feet. It was big and wasn’t far from the train station, which is important. People could go there, and if they were serious about it, they could visit me. I’m not so premeditated, but that was a clever thing for me to do: get a space when I could afford it.
DP: Tell me about painting trains.
DAZE: When I was painting trains, it’s no exaggeration to say that that was my entire life. My entire life! I didn’t have much social life yet in terms of going to clubs, but it absorbed everything that I did. At the same time, I never thought of it as something I could do full-time. I thought I was doing this now, but eventually, I will have to move on to something else.
DP: Tell me about the friendships you developed with people who have done similar things to you over the years. Are you still friends? Some people like people that you were extremely close to.
DAZE: Crash and I have been friends for years. Lady Pink and Futura are friends. Zephyr is a friend, Lee Quinones, Dez, Kenny Scharf, and Keith Haring. Keith and I were good friends.
Keith was always so generous with his time and work. He taught me a lot because I saw him succeed. Beyond the popular dogs, babies, and spaceships, Keith quickly developed this vocabulary of images that had just grown. So, I saw him evolve as an artist and become successful quickly.
One thing I learned from him was his generosity, working with kids and schools, which I do now or try to do when I can. And that was important. He could have easily just been a successful artist, and that’s it, which is good enough. But whenever he would do a show in France or someplace, he’d do a mural in a hospital or something like that. There was always this public aspect to his work. When I go to a different country to do an exhibition, I also try to connect with local artists or people and do a mural there or leave something behind, and I learned a lot from him.
DP: Tell me about a memorable show where you felt you had succeeded.
DAZE: One of them was in the late 80s. In the late 80s, things were not going well for me. And in New York, it was tough to sell work and organize anything. It was like that for many artists, not just myself. We were all having a difficult time, but we still had an audience in Europe. I got this postcard from this guy in Monaco because there was no email or anything like that. Somehow, he got my address, said he was coming to New York, and wanted to meet me in the studio. He came, bought some work, and invited me to have a show in his gallery in Monaco. I went from nothing to having this experience in Monaco, which was great. It encouraged me to keep going, like, don’t stop. Things are going to get better. That was an experience! I think I still have that postcard.
DP: So, let’s take this by the decade! Tell me about the 90’s!
DAZE: The 90s were a mixed bag. Coming out of the 80-90’s, AIDS was happening, and that impacted the art world quite a lot. I had a lot of friends pass away. Their lives were cut short, really short, because of that. It was terrifying. People were just unsure of what would happen and what the new decade would bring. So it was up and down.
At the beginning of the 90s, Peter Tunney, a friend of mine, had a gallery in Hong Kong, so he invited me to have a show. Around the same time, a museum exhibition in Paris featured Futura and me. I started to feel that momentum was continuing and happening in Europe. And all that just put more fuel in my tank to continue.
I was still struggling a bit, but these experiences inspired me. I focused more on a series of works I hadn’t done before. I did a massive series about Coney Island. I focused on that because I’ve always heard you should create work you feel very close to. I grew up in Brooklyn and went to Coney Island with my family. Coney Island has constantly been evolving throughout the decades. So I started to make paintings and taking photographs. I would shoot a lot of film there and make paintings about it as a series.
I started to think about what I wanted to say more about in my work. What are the things that are touching me? I began to think about certain schools of painters, like the Ashcan school in the 1930s. They focused a lot on New York, or people like John Sloan or Edward Hopper and Reginald Marsh, who didn’t always focus on the picturesque side of New York but the underbelly of it. So I started work about New York in that respect, too, things distinctly about New York. That kind of series was a big part of my work.
DP: So, you just started concentrating on a longer story in your painting during the 90s. There was more of a theme-based elongated conversation rather than what was immediate.
DAZE: At this point, some paintings from the Coney Island series have been shown in many museums, so they touch people and are really important to me. I’ve gotten over the bulk of that series, but occasionally, I return to it and do some things pointing in the direction of Coney Island. I still go there once a year and ride the cyclone.
DP: And what happened in the 2000s? I love that we can do this by the decade. It’s extraordinary.
DAZE: The beginning of the decade was Y2K. Do you remember that? How nothing happened? (we laugh together about that) I was traveling a lot, and in the 2000s, my painting practice was getting more refined, and there was a lot of clarity in what I was painting, exhibiting, and doing projects. Things definitely picked up then in the 2000s. I met my wife in 2006, and my children were born. It was a turning point for me.
DP: And today, looking back, where do you think your practice is now?
DAZE: Well, my practice has always been several things. I would say the core of it is my studio practice and the work I’m making there, which is a lot slower; I don’t produce a ton of things, but the pieces that I am doing now are a lot more thought out. I’m not overly prolific. I won’t do 20 paintings per month. It goes against you. I want to be someone who is focused in the studio. I’m always working on three different things and jump from one thing to another. It’s slower, and scale has nothing to do with it. It could be a large-scale piece; it could be something really small. It’s just going slower. I also make some sculptures, some of which have been made public. I also do public murals. That’s an important part of what I do because it gets me out of the studio and more in contact with everyday people walking by while I paint a mural or students I’m working with. It is seasonal because I can’t pursue this in the wintertime, but I still try to do a certain amount of public work every year.
I’m also collaborating with some brands on different projects. The best ones allow me to be myself. My favorite collaborations are where I can maintain my autonomy. And it’s another way of getting the work out there as well.
Today, Daze lives in the Bronx with his wife, April, and their two sons, Indigo and Hudson. Nowadays, he has the luxury of taking his time and making meaningful works that often reflect on memories and people who represent something special to him. He says, “I just want to do it justice.”
With decades of experience, Daze has witnessed movements rise and fall, seen the city and the art world evolve, feeling the pulse of change firsthand. This history isn’t just something he’s lived through; it’s something shared in everything he creates, every act of mentorship and friendship. Every time he paints or sculpts, he still honors where he came from while lifting others and instilling pride in different places and their people—Leaving the mark of someone whose art is not just about self-expression but someone who has tagged a legacy.
Chris Daze Ellis is represented by P·P·O·W Gallery in New York and Sevil Dolmaci Gallery, Istanbul, Dubai.