On a September afternoon in 1994 in Vienna, David Bowie visited the House of Artists in Gugging, a former psychiatric hospital home to some of the world’s most renowned artists from the Art Brut movement. Art Brut, also known as “outsider art,” was coined by French artist Jean Dubuffet in the 1940s and refers to art created by individuals outside the established art world—including those with mental illnesses, prisoners, children and self-taught creators—emphasizing a raw, unfiltered sense of creativity and a rejection of traditional artistic conventions.

Drawn to these concepts, and alongside close friends Brian Eno, André Heller and Austrian photographer Christine de Grancy, Bowie stepped into this world of marginality, bearing witness to art conceived by pure instinct and necessity, unbound by rules or expectations unlike the otherwise burgeoning style of Neo-Expressionism. Through observing several artist-patients—including August Walla, Oswald Tschirtner, Johann Garber and Johann Hauser—Bowie resonated deeply with the idea of the outsider, which ultimately laid the foundation for his 1995 album, “Outside,” a project that blended music, art and narrative experimentation, speaking to Bowie’s own fearless approach to self expressionism.

Presented in a series of black and white photographs, de Grancy captures Bowie’s curiosity and humanity that day in Vienna as he connected with Gugging artists in a personal and meaningful way. A rockstar stripped down, the photographs reflect an intimate and empathetic side of Bowie—revealing the healing power of creativity and shared artistry beyond the spotlight.

After sitting in de Grancy’s personal archive for most of three decades, de Grancy made the decision to partner with the Santa Monica Art Museum to exhibit these photographs via A Day with David Bowie, currently on view through September 28, inviting viewers to partake in Bowie’s transformational journey. Sadly, de Grancy passed away during the construction of the exhibition on March 21 earlier this year, leaving behind a legacy of honest storytelling and a substantial portfolio of influential photography.

FLAUNT spoke with Ricardo Puentes, the general manager and creative director at the Santa Monica Art Museum, to learn more about the curatorial process of A Day with David Bowie, what de Grancy learned of Bowie that day, and how the exhibit honors both of their distinctly creative spirits.

Tell me about the curatorial process of A Day with David Bowie. From both a design and layout perspective, how did SMAM go about deciding which photographs and installments would be included on display?

A Day with David Bowie was developed in close collaboration with Christine de Grancy herself. From the very beginning, she was directly involved and selected and organized the photographs, ensuring the exhibition remained true to how she experienced and documented that extraordinary day in Gugging. Our conversations with her focused on how to best pace the unfolding story and integrate decorative elements that would support, rather than distract from her narrative. The day the photographs arrived from Vienna, I received the news of her passing. Out of respect for her vision, we kept every detail in the space exactly as she had instructed.

What was de Grancy’s relationship like with Bowie? Had they met before?

Christine de Grancy had not photographed Bowie before Gugging, which made the session uniquely candid. She was invited as part of her broader documentation of Art Brut at the Gugging psychiatric hospital. Though not close acquaintances, she and Bowie shared a mutual friend in Austrian artist and impresario André Heller.

What can you tell me about what de Grancy recalls from that day in Gugging? Did the patients know how influential Bowie was?

De Grancy recalls Bowie as curious, generous, and unusually open with the patients. The Gugging artists, many of whom were deeply immersed in their own creative worlds, may not have fully grasped Bowie’s cultural stature. Yet they responded to him as a fellow artist, not as a rock star. This exchange created a rare environment of equality—Bowie was not “performing,” he was simply present.

Many of the photographs depict a very intimate side of Bowie, humanizing one of the greatest and most influential rock artists of the previous century. As a sort of documentarian, how did de Grancy approach this sensitive persona and what about her storytelling reflects the authenticity of the Art Brut movement?

Rather than staging him, she observed and captured moments of spontaneity: a glance, a gesture, the way he leaned into conversation. This approach echoes the authenticity of the Art Brut movement, which values unfiltered expression over polish. The intimacy of her work is her defining approach to her photography.

For art so inherently bold and colorful, I found it interesting that de Grancy chose to capture it in black and white. What can you tell me about her choice to use analog film?

Christine de Grancy’s decision to shoot in black and white was rooted not only in the aesthetics of the moment but in her own photographic history. From her early career, she worked almost exclusively in black and white, drawn to its ability to strip away distraction and emphasize the essentials—gesture, atmosphere, emotion.

Do you see any parallels between Bowie’s come up with the Gugging artists? How does mental health play into Bowie’s artistic process and creative sensibilities?

Bowie, like the Gugging artists, used art as a survival mechanism. Mental health was never far from Bowie’s creative process given his family history; he openly explored themes of alienation, identity, and fractured reality. The Gugging artists, many living with psychiatric diagnoses, pursued self discovery through artistic expression.

Was there an extended relationship preserved with the artists afterwards?

While Bowie’s visit was a singular event, de Grancy maintained a relationship with the Gugging institution through her photographic practice. The visit itself became a part of Gugging’s legacy—another moment when an outsider artist and a global star met in genuine exchange.

In what way do you think the experience at Gugging influenced not only Bowie as a musician, but also de Grancy as a photographer, to look for new ways in gaining inspiration in art and life, and how do you think the exhibit honors both of their distinct artistic spirits?

I believe that it showed him another model of unapologetic creation. For de Grancy, photographing Bowie within that context broadened her scope as a storyteller. A Day with David Bowie honors both: Bowie’s continual search for inspiration, and de Grancy’s capacity to reveal humanity through her lens.

How do you see visitors engaging with the exhibit?

Visitors engage with A Day with David Bowie in deeply personal ways. Many are struck by how “ordinary” Bowie appears—unguarded and “normal.” Others connect with the Gugging artists, recognizing parallels between art and wellness. For devoted Bowie fans, the exhibition has been especially powerful—many have expressed excitement at discovering this little-known chapter of his life, while others have found a new respect for the generosity and depth he brought to the world during his time here.