Sometimes, an artist's work takes just a little too long to gather mainstream attention.
Then there are those artists who actually keep their work hidden away until after death.
Whatever the case, keep watching for the fascinating stories of how these people became famous
after they died.
If you grew up in the nineties, chances are you know ska punk band Sublime.
Everyone with a guitar at a party has been asked to play "What I Got" at least once,
to the point where it's hard to imagine a musical landscape in which Bradley Nowell's
band wasn't a household name.
But strangely enough, Nowell himself never got to see how successful Sublime would become.
The band's self-titled 1996 album put them on the map, but it was released two months
after Nowell died from a heroin overdose in a San Francisco motel room.
This marked the end of a long history of drug use, but the beginning of Sublime as a big
name, even though the band wasn't really a band anymore.
Nowell was survived by his wife of seven days, Troy, as well as an 11-month-old son named
Jakob and his dalmatian Louie, who was reportedly at the foot of Nowell's bed when he died.
James Dean was always destined to be a Hollywood icon, but his life was tragically cut short
right before he could see it all come together.
In 1955, the 24-year-old actor was driving his Porsche Spyder through Cholame, California
when a traffic accident took his life.
By this time, he had delivered major performances in the three films that he would forever be
known for: East of Eden, Giant, and Rebel Without a Cause.
But his accident occurred right before the latter two were released, so he never got
to see how successful they would become.
Though Dean's life was lost, the Academy Awards still saw fit to honor him with two Best Actor
nominations, for East of Eden and then Giant.
As of 2019, he remains the only person to be nominated posthumously for Lead Actor on
more than one occasion.
Over half century later, Dean is still cited as a symbol of his era, a fashion icon, and
because of Rebel Without a Cause, the ultimate symbol of teen angst and rebellion.
"You're tearing me apart!"
Nowadays, music lovers all over the world know Jeff Buckley.
But when the young artist died, he had only completed one studio LP and a bunch of live
shows.
His small but devoted following was just beginning to sprout.
Worst of all, his financial woes were pretty severe.
Despite signing what should've been a major money-making deal with Sony, his debt issues
were so bad that he couldn't even fund a down payment on a $40,000 fixer-upper house.
It's likely that, had Buckley survived, he would've reached the same levels of fame that
he did in death.
After his tragic accidental drowning in 1997, his brand has been used in a near-constant
flood of posthumous releases, including live albums, extended versions of songs, and more.
Perhaps the song that pops up the most is his distinctive rendition of Leonard Cohen's
"Hallelujah," which has been featured in a countless number of movies and TV shows.
The song "Over the Rainbow" was originally composed for the classic 1939 film The Wizard
of Oz, and since then, countless artists have offered their own takes on it over the years.
But perhaps no version is as fondly remembered today as the soulful ukulele rendition performed
by Hawaiian artist Israel "Iz" Kamakawiwo'ole.
When Iz died in 1997 at the age of 38, he was already beloved in Hawaii, not only because
of his music, but also due to his advocacy work on behalf of native Hawaiian rights and
self-determination.
At his funeral, 10,000 Hawaiians paid their respects to the local hero.
But it was only after his death that his music spread to an international audience, as it
was featured in major TV programs like Lost, as well as a posthumous album release and
viral video on YouTube.
When Vincent van Gogh died in 1890, most of the world hadn't yet witnessed the great painter's
most notable artworks.
But he's since gone on to have a lasting reputation, as evidenced by his portrayal in a number
of films.
It was only in his last few years alive that he painted such classic pieces as The Starry
Night and Sunflowers.
The thickness of his oil paint style meant that his artwork took an insanely long time
to dry: anywhere from one year to 18 months.
As a result, he had to spend years watching over his prized works, making sure that they
didn't get stuck together or otherwise become ruined, which certainly had to be stressful.
As a result, only his friends and family knew how amazing his work was.
When van Gogh died, his still-wet paintings were passed down to his brother, Theo.
Two months later, Theo also died, leaving his wife Johanna with a baby boy, also named
Vincent, two horribly-timed tragedies, and a collection of breathtaking paintings that
nobody knew about.
Luckily for the world, Johanna became an art dealer, not only to honor her husband and
brother-in-law, but also to provide for her young son.
It was she who, almost single-handedly, exposed the world to Vincent van Gogh's great works.
The true story of Robert Johnson is shrouded in myth, particularly the fanciful tale of
how he supposedly sold his soul to the devil in exchange for becoming the world's greatest
blues musician.
That story isn't true, obviously.
But Johnson has since become a legend, his music serving as the chief inspiration for
future artists like Keith Richards and Eric Clapton and his story inspiring the 1986 film
Crossroads.
But none of that recognition came until after he died.
"When I first heard Robert Johnson, I was like, 'Okay, that's what music is.'"
While Johnson was alive, from 1911 to 1938, he was just one of his era's hundreds of African-American
musicians struggling to earn a living by making music in rural Mississippi.
He recorded a mere 29 songs while he was alive, and he spent most of his short career busking
at street corners and juke joints.
That all started to change when his song "Terraplane Blues" became a minor hit, earning him invitations
to a second recording session for a new LP and even a Carnegie Hall show.
Before he could do either of these things, though, he was dead, with some people believing
that he was poisoned.
When Columbia Records finally released his LP, the deceased artist was so mysterious
and unknown that they struggled to locate good photographs to place on the cover.
Before the success of his 2005 mystery thriller novel The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Swedish
journalist Stieg Larsson wasn't particularly well known outside of news circles.
The release of the Millennium trilogy, featuring cyberpunk heroine Lisbeth Salander, catapulted
Larsson onto many lists of top crime writers, even though he'd never written in the genre
before.
But he sadly never got to see any of the fame that came from these books, as he died in
November of 2004.
While it's amazing enough that Larsson wrote three Millennium books before even getting
the first one published, he'd apparently planned out a ten-book narrative.
It's interesting now to imagine how he might've concluded Salander's story.
But alas, we'll never know for sure, as he died of a heart attack before he could set
pen to paper for the last two-thirds of the series.
Though he was only 50 years old, his friends and family seem to agree that he took poor
care of his health, habitually chain-smoking with a lack of exercise and a poor diet.
But his books nevertheless gradually became even more popular over the years, as they
were adapted into a series of both Swedish and American films.
Over the last few centuries, the music of German composer Johann Sebastian Bach has
been hailed like a religion unto itself.
But during Bach's actual lifetime, his work was largely disregarded outside of the religious
services it was played in.
He came from a musical family, and most of his contemporaries didn't appreciate the brilliant
complexity of his compositions, largely writing him off as old-fashioned and out of touch.
After Bach died in 1750, though, a few others thought differently.
His work went on to be a huge influence on future composers like Beethoven and Mozart.
However, the one who truly deserves credit for rescuing Bach from the dustbins of history
was German composer Felix Mendelssohn, whose enthusiastic appreciation and support for
Bach's music led to a revival in the 1800s, and also inspired new works in the same vein.
In death, Eva Cassidy's mesmerizing talent has received widespread acclaim.
Her posthumous CD releases have achieved gold-seller status, hit the number one spot, and sold
over four million copies.
But in life, she was a shy, reserved figure who disliked having to perform in front of
people, even if it was just the small, friendly crowd at a friend's party.
On the rare instances in which Cassidy did put herself out there, she was deeply specific
about only singing songs that meant something to her.
Sometimes, this led to her bouncing between genres like a ping-pong ball.
From jazz to folk to blues, she did it all.
Luckily, she overcame her self-consciousness long enough to release one solo album during
her lifetime, which she financed herself and sold in person from the trunk of her car.
Clearly, marketing wasn't really Cassidy's thing, but singing absolutely was.
In the years since her death from melanoma at the age of 33 in 1996, little moments have
come together to make her a posthumous celebrity, like her version of Sting's "Fields of Gold"
being played during the 2002 Winter Olympics.
"I'm telling jokes!
How about a good joke?"
"Get out of her picture!"
"Guys!"
If you travel in B-movie circles, you know that the name Ed Wood has reached almost messianic
heights of reverence.
His 1959 film Plan 9 From Outer Space is often panned, or celebrated, as the worst movie
ever made.
But it might surprise many film lovers to learn that Wood didn't receive that much vitriol
when he was alive.
For the most part, nobody knew he even existed.
Wood's not-so-favorable title of the "worst director of all-time" was first bestowed upon
him by the author and film critic Michael Medved in his book The Golden Turkey Awards,
which he co-wrote with his brother Harry and released in 1980, two years after Wood's death.
While Medved's portrayal of Wood may have been mean-spirited, it did accidentally lead
to Wood becoming a beloved cult figure, as people went back and watched his quirky films
with newfound fascination.
And then in 1994 Wood's reputation was redeemed to the public at large, thanks to director
Tim Burton's loving presentation of him in the biopic Ed Wood.
The film starred Johnny Depp in the title role and earned Martin Landau an Oscar for
his performance as screen legend Bela Lugosi.
"How do you get all your friends to get baptized just so you can make a monster movie?"
"It's not a monster movie.
It's a supernatural thriller."
In 1974, when English singer-songwriter Nick Drake died from overdosing on antidepressants,
he was only 26 years old and his music was obscure.
His 1972 album Pink Moon was a total bomb.
He never found the audience he deserved, though in the decades following his death, a small
but dedicated fan base has discovered his music.
In the 1990s, a man named Cally Callomon joined up with Island Records.
Seeing the potential for Drake's music to reach a wider audience, Callomon marketed
him as if he were a living artist, by putting out new releases like Way To Blue: An Introduction
To Nick Drake.
A rather odd turning point came in 1999, when Drake's song "Pink Moon" was played in a Volkswagen
commercial, thereby introducing his music to millions of new listeners for the first
time.
If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide
Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).