Jay-Z, in his fascinatingly creative book, “Decoded,” devotes a chapter to Jean-Michel Basquiat, recalling that when the artist was asked about his art, he said three things were important: “Royalty, heroism and the streets.”

Those three things are in abundance in the stunning arts exhibition dedicated to Basquiat, who died at 27 in 1988 from an apparent overdose of drugs. The exhibit opened last week at the Adam Clayton Powell Jr. State Office Building. Under the title, “Manifest: A Conjuration of Radiance,” and skillfully curated by Greg Mills, 36 artists have adorned the walls of the art gallery with an array of glorious evocations of Basquiat’s brief but remarkable career.

Of the three things, royalty reigns supreme, and that’s the title of Eli Kince’s impressive piece on acrylic on canvas. “A full range of emotions and ideas surged through my senses as I sought to capture Basquiat’s genius and artistic range in one painting,” Kince said of his work.” During his address to the crowded gallery Saturday evening, he added that he was also thinking of the great Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamen.

“Like Basquiat, he died very young,” Kince said.

Royalty was conjured in the image of the crown as well, which often found its way into Basquiat’s creations. In one of Basquiat’s pieces, his homage to the great boxer Sugar Ray Robinson, there is only the fighter’s name and the crown.

The crown has its largest appearance in Jason Auguste’s golden depiction that possesses a number of cryptic symbols, a few of them consistent with his Rasta beliefs.

“When I heard about the tribute, the deadline had already passed, but Greg extended it for me and I finished it in a week and a half,” Auguste related.

Basquiat’s crown is vividly showcased in works by Francia Wilson and King Bee’s spray paint on canvas. In his artistic statement that accompanied his art, he said, “It almost felt as if Basquiat was right there beside me.”

One of the largest and most engrossing pieces on display was created by Lance Estos Bradley, titled, “Basquiat Blue.” And the blues are as compelling as the image of the spray paint can with Basquiat’s graffiti tag “SAMO” challenging the cerulean blues. When asked about the selling price, Bradley said, “That can be negotiated.”

In other paintings, the crown is insinuated by Cynthia Burgos, Margo Robinson and Renaldo Davidson, Auguste’s talented cousin. In others, it takes on a more realistic shape of Basquiat’s hair. Nowhere is this resemblance more arresting than in the creations of Anthony Burton, Sonia Barnett, Greg Mills and James Top.

Top’s painting, with its graffiti blazed jaggedly but engrossingly across a portrait of Basquiat, over-arched by a huge Afro, provides the best symbolic transition of Basquiat’s artistic evolution from hip-hop to bebop, music that inspired and sustained him.

Even more commanding is J. Jahheal A. Massac’s life-like statue of Basquiat, a statue that, on first appearance, strikes one as a mime in frozen performance. Equally alluring are the three works by Jeremiah Drake, the hypodermic needle being the most jarring. Eavesdropping on a conversation by the artist and several spectators, Drake told them how challenging it was to assemble his found objects in relationship to Basquiat. “It took a lot of research and reflection,” he said.

Likewise, Mills certainly applied a lot of research, reflection and soul-searching to amass such a powerful presentation of art in honor of Basquiat. “The exhibiting arts…like Basquiat, are picking up the mantel and also unveiling our ‘school of thought,’ a brand called ‘Manifest,’ an expression of force that is propelling our neo-arts movement, thus creating from our perspective of social realism through abstract expressionism, giving rise to the ideas of ‘form following function,’ an art trend that is now here,” he declared.

The exhibit will remain at the Adam Clayton Powell Jr. State Office Building until the turn of the year, and the closing promises to be as exciting as the opening.

For more information regarding exhibition days and hours and film screenings, call (212) 749-5298.