Jean Shepherd: The Ghost of Christmas Present

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Even as a kid, I was usually alone. It was, and still is, hard to find those who share your interests in Art & Music. (NighthawkNYC.com is my way of reaching out to them now.) Art came first, Music came to me later. Still, early on I had a small radio I used to keep under my pillow at night cause I was supposed to go to sleep earlier than I wanted.

Cough.

I can’t really remember most of what I was listening to then, besides hearing R.F.K. get shot on a live broadcast from LA, but I became good at turning its small round tuner dial under my pillow without being able to see it, switching from station to station by guesstimating the distance the wheel had to be moved. All of that switching ended shortly after 11pm one lonely Saturday night.

That dial had found a program with no music. Just the sound of one guy talking. The first thing that struck me- What a voice he had! It turned out he was telling a story.

Shep in full effect. Casting a spell as only he could on his “Night People.” *- Photographer unknown.

I listened.

And, I listened.

I kept listening. I was mesmerized.

I’d never heard anyone like him. I still haven’t. I’m STILL listening to him. That little radio has grown up to become my iPhone, where I listen to him now.

The stories came in a seemingly never ending stream, one upon the other, night after night. Only rarely was one repeated, and that’s the center piece of this piece. Many of them, as I’d come to discover, featured a recurring group of characters- his friends- Flick, Schwarz, Bruner, his younger brother, Randy, and the rest, with classic names like Ludlow “Lud” Kissel, Ollie Hopnoodle, Josephine Cosnowski, his mom and ESPECIALLY his dad, and their relatives and other neighborhood kids in the 1940’s and 1950’s, in Hohman (nee Hammond), Indiana, then on to his days in the army, stories from today based on seemingly inane, everyday events or triggers.

Such was the world of a man named Jean.

Jean Shepherd.

Known to his fans as “Shep.” Years later he became immortal, though it’s still a bit of a secret, much to my frustration. As my gift to you this Christmas, I’ll let you in on it-

The classic movie, A Christmas Story, is HIS story!

He wrote it. He narrates it. He appears in a scene in the movie. It’s a film that’s been seen to death in 24 hour marathons already, and will most likely be shown for as long as movies are watched.

Shep, left, appears in a bit part in A Christmas Story- HIS story, which he also narrates, as only he can.

It began as a story in Playboy Magazine, home of all things Christmas, called “Duel In The Snow.” He won their annual best story award for it. Then, it was published in his book appropriately titled, In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash. Due to overwhelming request, it became a “tradition” on Shepherd’s WOR Radio show that he would read it on Christmas Eve. Thank the universe someone recorded it, so now you can actually hear him perform it on December 24, 1974, 41 years ago tonite, here.

Can you imagine what it must have been like to hear Mark Twain, or Dickens read one of their stories?

For me, however, it’s a shame that more people don’t know who he is, what else he’s done, or know that he is, perhaps, the greatest American storyteller of the 20th Century.

But, “Shep” has not gone completely unnoticed through the years (he passed away in 1999). His influence lives! No less than Jerry Seinfeld has said that Jean Shepherd was responsible for forming “ my entire comedic sensibility.” Heavy praise, indeed. Steely Dan’s great lyricist Donald Fagen, apparently, was one of Shep’s “Night People,” as he called his listeners, devotes a chapter to Shep in his first book, Eminent Hipsters, and says=

“I started looking back at some of the things that used to inspire me as a kid, including some of Shep’s old shows, now available on the Internet. Hearing them almost a half-century down the line has been a trip. Despite the tendencies I’ve already mentioned (plus the gaffes one might expect from a wild man like Shep ad-libbing before the age of political correctness), much of the stuff is simply amazing: The guy is a dynamo, brimming with curiosity and ideas and fun. Working from a few written notes at most, Shepherd is intense, manic, alive, the first and only true practitioner of spontaneous word jazz. “ 1

This doesn’t surprise me- Fagen’s first solo album, The Nightfly, seems to be a concept album about a late night DJ who spins jazz and talks, as is depicted on its cover. Hmmm…very similar to one Jean Shepherd. He’s, apparently, not a big fan of Shep the man, but I’ve learned to separate Art from life, even with artists like Donald Fagen, and I never met Shep.

Channeling Shep?

A Christmas Story is only the tip of the Jean Shepherd iceberg. He was extraordinarily prolific in too many ways to count. Shep wrote stories for magazines, was one of the first writers at  The Village Voice, wrote at least four books, preformed about 5,000 hours on radio, performed live in clubs and elsewhere, released 6 Lp’s (and did one with Charles Mingus), created a series of audio tapes.

If you’re new to Shep or want to see more after seeing A Christmas Story, it’s little known that he made a number of other films besides  that are traded on places like archive.com among fans. His Great American Fourth of July and Other Disasters, is for me, every bit as good as ACS. See if you agree-

He also did a 13 Part series for PBS called Jean Shepherd’s America, two seasons of Shepherd’s Pie for NJ PBS, and a documentary on the history of his beloved Chicago White Sox, who would FINALLY win the World Series in 2005, five years after he passed, and the first time they won since 1917, four years before he was born!

His voice has become a very familiar sound in my life, his outlook, the way he remembers details that are so familiar to kids, yet unique to his experience, and how very New York this midwesterner became, with his jazz sensibilities and ability to free wheel with the best of them on his live radio show that was broadcast from the Limelight in Greenwich Village for a while on Saturday Nights. Shep nailed what it is to be alive in America in the last half of the 20th Century, from childhood on, and he did so with style, smarts, wit, irony and…that voice. Above ALL of this, he remains one of the only people who are continually described as a “raconteur.” I’ve always been jealous of that.

The Real Santa Claus will never be known. The man who is the creator of what has become one of contemporary America’s most beloved Christmas traditions should be. Still, in spite of all of this, and in spite of the joy he gives every year to viewers of A Christmas Story, his name is rarely spoken. He’s become a Ghost. The Ghost of Christmas present, and Christmas to come when his movie will be played yet again countless times. I’m hoping this Christmas Eve people will take a break from the movie to look him up and check him out.

For me, and many others growing up, as I continue to discover, Jean Shepherd was “the voice in the dark.” For millions of others now and not yet born, ACS is the most likely way they’ll discover him. It’s left to fans like me, to pull a coat here and there. It’s left to word of mouth. If you smiled watching A Christmas Story, say a silent “Excelsior!,” his motto, and pass his name along to someone else.

The author of “A Christmas Story” was, perhaps, the greatest American Storyteller since Mark Twain. Art & Culture are two of the pillars of any culture or civilization. They don’t only live in the past, they have a real role to play in reminding us who we are, where we came from and inspiring those who are coming next.

Pay Shep Forward.

“Yes, Santa smoked Camels…just like my Uncle Charles.”

Excelsior!, Shep. Thanks, and Merry Christmas, man.

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “Bahn Frei” (Fast Track) by Eduard Strauss, Jean Shepherd’s theme song for his WOR Radio show, as performed by Arthur Fiedler & The Boston Pops Orchestra, in the fastest version I’ve ever heard of it, and now, the only one I can listen to of it. If it weren’t for Shep the name of Eduard Strauss would be as forgotten today as Jean Shepherd’s should never be.

To experience more of Shep, the easiest way is to do a “Jean Shepherd” search on youtube.com. Also check out the link I included above for archive.com. There are also fan created sites, like flicklives.com. There are sellers who offer collections of his radio shows, films and TV shows on CD/DVD on eBay, taking advantage of the fact that there is no estate watching over them. Unfortunately, for some of the rarest Shep, this is the only way to experience them. Since much of his work was done for PBS, I call out to them to re-broadcast it!

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You can also support it by buying Art, Art books & Music from my collection!
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13 Years At The Metropolitan Museum – Part Two – The Light

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This is Part Two of my ongoing series, “Thirteen Years At The Metropolitan Museum.” Part One is here.

Her Aim Is True. With an arrow to my heart, Saint-Gaudens’ Diana points the way to the undiscovered land.

It happens more than I’d like.

I stop into the bookshop every time I go to The Met (TM), either on my way in, or out. As these 13 years have gone on, unfortunately, it’s become one of the few decent art book stores left. They have a good stock of current and new art books and, of course, a very good supply of Met Museum Publications. Nothing old or out of print, still, I always find something of interest, either about whatever artist I’m currently fixated on (there’s always at least one), or someone I’m only discovering through a show, or right there on their shelves.

My apartment. Almost. No, its The Met’s Bookstore.

Then, it happened.

I picked up this heavy hardcover called Portraits By Ingres. Ingres. Yes. There are a few of his portraits upstairs in the European Paintings Gallery and an amazing one, which has become my very favorite Painting in The Museum, in the Robert Lehman Collection Galleries. I start looking through the book. There, on page after page after page are THE most incredible Drawings I may have ever seen! What? I’m amazed. Astounded. The line! The delicacy. He knows exactly what to leave out and still, somehow, capture the essence of his subject’s face, like in Chinese or Japanese Painting, but more so. He’s using graphite. No washes, no ink, no nothing. The most amazingly beautiful lines I’ve ever seen on paper.

How did I not know about this?

Since the book is old, it’s on sale. How old is it? I look at the publishing data. “Published on the occasion of Portraits by Ingres at the Metropolitan Museum October 5, 1999 through January 2, 2000” (You can actually download it now, direct from TM(!), here, for free.)

UGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You mean, this was A SHOW?

AND? I MISSED IT?????

Oh my god… ….. ………….

And, that’s how I discovered THE WORST feeling I ever get when I to go TM. While Portraits By Ingres is the “big one that got away,” unfortunately, it’s happened more than once. And that’s only in the recent past.

Portraits By Ingres NYT 1999P

And? Look what I found recently on the back of an article I saved in the NY Times from 1999. History tugged my sleeve…and now mocks me.

Since then, I live with a terrible fear of missing a great show. Why? When a show is over? It’s gone…forever. It “lives on”, but to a much lesser extent in exhibition catalogs (thank goodness!) and through websites, online videos, maybe an app or two, but that’s it. The catalogs may or may not have all the works that were in the show and almost certainly won’t have them in their original sizes (maybe, one day, e-catalogs will, but the resolution of art e-books today is nowhere near there). Almost never are shows documented with a film or documentary, the way Leonardo: da Vinci: Painter At The Court Of Milan was.

In fact, I only discovered “the show of the Century,” Leonardo da Vinci: Painter @ CoM 3 days before it ended at the National Gallery, London. (It was put together by Luke Syson, who I wrote about in Part One of this series, who is now working at TM.) I jumped on an over night flight and went straight to the National Gallery, without a ticket for the sold-out show, minutes before doors opened on its very last day. I got in (a story unto itself. The NY Giants won the Super Bowl that same night. Something crazy to watch in London). It’s the first and last time 9 of Leonard’s incomparable 17 (or so) Paintings were being shown in one place. And, possibly, the first time ever both version of the Virgin of the Rocks were being shown together- in the same room (I had to take a step aside and pinch myself in utter amazement when I walked in to that gallery), and so much more as you can see on the checklist, here, including, astonishingly, a full size copy of The Last Supper done in 1520, shortly after the original had been painted! To think…If I hadn’t happened to accidentally stumble on that documentary at 3am on PBS, I would have missed it!

So, impelled by this fear, I have since designed each visit to TM around their exhibition calendar- I go and see whatever’s closing soonest, if I haven’t seen it already.

This has paid off, for me, in uncountable and undreamt of ways.

I have discovered countless artists I never knew about, who have enriched my life and my knowledge of art history in so many ways I can’t even count including Sanford Gifford (besides being a brilliant underknown member of the Hudson River School, he was also a Met Museum Founder in 1880), Henrick Goltzius (who overcame a fall into a fire that disfigured his drawing hand but turned that to his advantage becoming a graphic artist, perhaps, only equalled in the north by Durer), Thomas Eakins, Alexander McQueen, Christo & Jeanne-Claude (who I got to meet right before The Gates), Philip Guston, Bernini, Louis Comfort Tiffany, Chasseriau, Ellsworth Kelly, Girodet, Sean Kelly, Degas, Thomas Hart Benton, Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, Cezanne, Antonio Canova, Liu Dan in the revelatory Ink Art in China show, Faberge, William Kentridge, Balthus, Paul Klee, Neo Rauch, among individual artists I “discovered” at Special Exhibitions at TM since 2002! Some I had heard of or knew a little about but I “discovered” them here.

As someone obsessed with Art History who draws a little bit, these artists had/have a huge and ongoing influence on me. I learned so much from all of them. They have helped me refine my focus. Before 1999 I was solely interested in modern and contemporary art. After seeing the Mark Rothko Show at the Whitney in 1998, I started to draw. Then, I realized I needed to go back through the entire history of art and learn from the masters who could draw. That led me to TM. TM led me to “the Light.”

This is not to mention artists I’ve discovered by wandering the galleries, like Ingres, Stuart Davis, Tiepolo, Remington, Caravaggio, Goya, Yves Tanguay and Juan Gris among them.

I’ve seen the light.

Even now, today, September 18, 2015, I returned from TM after spending a large part of last weekend there for the last few days of China, with a fresh revelation- George Caleb Bingham. Bingham. Hmm… I know of him though the one intriguing Painting that’s been continually on display in the American Wing. It’s a work you walk by and always draws you closer. You ponder it and are left thinking. “It’s interesting…different…powerful and real. Bingham, huh? I don’t know him.” There’s no other by him work on view to reinforce the feeling that “I really need to look into him.” Well, maybe he was a one hit wonder.

23 year old Bingham’s Self Portrait beckons us in to “discover” his unique light.

It turns out, he was far from it. After seeing his about to close show, Navigating the West featuring his River paintings and drawings, I came away struck by an artist that seems to be something of a missing link. Someone who fills in a gap before Thomas Eakins. He’s a master of the natural pose,while making that pose always seem uniquely American, a powerful draughtsman, with a real gift for setting the stage in his compositions, which often feature beautifully out of focus backgrounds years before cameras showed such things, and in ways I haven’t seen many other artists do this well. Ever since Leonardo artists have put in very realistic backgrounds, often consisting of modern towns or locations regardless of the time period being depicted (which no doubt charmed contemporaries, but always struck me as being weird and bizarrely out of place in the story). Bingham’s rarely depict a recognizable location (according to the catalog), but they add to the air of authenticity that he is trying to present more convincingly than some of his Renaissance predecessors. Interestingly, Bingham was influenced by the Hudson River School after his first trip east, and his early landscapes show their trademarked lush and thickly detailed flora and fauna. As time went on, he paid more and more attention to the focus of his work- his characters. Carefully working and reworking them in masterful preparatory Drawings, he was able to simply transfer them to his canvas and then make sure that everything else supported them, or they got left out. He became an editor as much as he was a draughtsman. The Met has prepared a fascinating short analysis of the process Bingham used in creating his masterpiece, “Fur Traders Descending The Missouri,” The Met’s Painting that first caught my eye. He was downright ruthless in his editing, down to the smallest detail, creating a work of sublime economy that I wonder if it in turn influenced another masterpiece of American River art, Thomas Eakins’  Max Schmitt In A Single Scull, which happens to call TM its home, too.

His light runs the full range from soft to hard, and is never more masterful than in Fur Traders. The foreground water, in particular. Then there is a pair of masterful, yet entirely different, self portraits, one, early, of the artist in his 20’s, the other done 2 years before his passing. They speak volumes about his growth and the evolution of his technique and style. The early one is a marvel of seamlessly smooth skin coloring and belies a style of its own. It actually reminds me of early Ingres in this regard. The face just pops from the canvas 180 years later, and I found myself marveling at how few colors he accomplished this with. Ah, but then a closer look reveals his mastery of economical blending. The overall effect is both brilliant and unforgettable. All we see is his torso. No arms. No hands. Its all in back, except for the collar of his white shirt, and his face. He looks out at us with an expression that says “Yes, I may be young, but I’m already THIS good, and I’m taking no prisoners from here on.” And? he didn’t. The late self portrait was done by an entirely different artist, one who had learned nuance, who’s craft had vastly deepened and who wasn’t afraid of truth or age. Interestingly, he paints himself in the act of Drawing. After seeing the many Drawings on view, it’s a tribute well earned. His Drawings hold every bit of their own even when viewed right next to the Paintings they preceded, including his masterpieces, like TM’s own Fur Traders Descending The Missouri from about 1845, the work I had seen before in the American Wing-

Bingham’s Fur Traders Descending The Missouri. The work that drew me to his light.

Everything about Bingham’s river Paintings (and the Drawings/studies that led to their creation) says “American,” in exactly the same way as Mark Twain’s writing does. From the attire to the attitude, all done with masterful attention to detail and shadow, THIS is American art for the people. The show is devoid of portraits of the well-to-do, the famous, or the powerful and is, instead, populated by the people who were trying to survive in a new land while helping their new country survive in the process. Is it any wonder that the school children of Missouri took up a state wide collection to help the State buy (and thereby preserve) a collection of Bingham’s masterful, iconic Drawings? While being an act they all can be eternally proud of, it shows those kids had better taste in art than some of the dealers in Chelsea do today.

While not a big show, it’s a very deep show, and since its doors are closing for good on Sunday at 5:15pm, I’m going to be scrambling to see it one or two more times before it does.

Afterall? I well know what happens then.

These wonderful work will go back to where they belong, possibly never to be seen together again.

The light will go off in those galleries Sunday night.

But, it will remain “on” inside me for the rest of my life.

The second best thing I’ve gotten out of going to The Met so often for 13 years is Discovery.

Hark! A Met Angel Beckons me to the Light. To not hear her call is my loss.

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “The Shape Of Jazz To Come” by Ornette Coleman, 1959. I chose this to honor Ornette, who led us into many new frontiers of music, like TM has with Art, since he recently passed. He was exceedingly nice to me, a complete stranger to him, the one time I had the privilege of meeting him.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free since 2015! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate securely by PayPal below to allow me to continue. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art books & Music from my collection!
Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here.

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new pieces below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

“Look around. Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now.”*

This site is Free & Ad-Free!
If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing.
Other ways to support it at the end. Thank you!

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

“Hats off, Gentlemen…A Genius,” the composer Robert Schumann famously said after hearing Frederic Chopin for the first time.

A “Genius.”

In Chopin’s case? Schumann nailed it. More often? It’s a word that is savagely abused in most of the realms of life it’s used in. I HATE throwing that word around. Life has shown me that, unfortunately, there are very, very, VERY few geniuses. Personally, out of all the musicians I’ve known and worked with, all the artists and heck, the people I’ve known, only 3 were geniuses, I think, and one was my dad. Jaco Pastorius and Thomas Chapin were the other two. 1

Lin Manuel Miranda is someone I’ve never met, but I’ve had my ear on him since he stopped me cold when I first heard him perform at the White House Poetry Jam in 2009. I was tuned in to hear Esperanza Spalding, and then, out of the blue…WHAM!

WHO is Lin-Manuel Miranda??

Looking at his classic performance, again, I can see I wasn’t alone in being surprised and delighted. Over a million have watched it since. Accompanied only by a piano, it’s fresh, new, and brilliant on every level. In his introduction, Mr Miranda says that he “is working on a hip-hop album, a concept album about someone I think embodies hip-hop, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton.”

Seriously? Alexander “Face-of-the-10-Dollar-Bill” Hamilton? The man who’s grave I’ve walked right past countless times Downtown at Trinity Church, and was right in the shadow of the World Trade Center? I’ve always respected him as much as any Founding Father, but, I admit, I didn’t know his whole story. Well? It turns out he lived Uptown- in Harlem. Who knew?

“Revolution’s happening in New York”*

Little did I suspect that 6 years later this “concept album” would be the phenomenon, Hamilton which is not only taking Broadway, (after opening at the Public Theater in February), by storm (It’s currently sold out for a year- if you hurry, you can get tickets for September 16, 2016, and take your chances Mr. Miranda will still be starring in it then), it has revolutionized music, theater and musical theater in the process. In spite of the fact that Mr. Miranda and his team had already won a Tony Award for Best Musical for “In The Heights,” I don’t think many saw this coming.

“History is happening in Manhattan
and we just happen to be
in the greatest city in the world.”*

True to history (being based on Ron Chernow’s biography of Hamilton), and full of fresh poetry that bursts with the cleverness of the finest hip-hop and wonderful songwriting, it’s both relatable and educational while bringing Hamilton’s story full force into the 21st Century. The shock of melding the life of a Founding Father from some 240 years ago with that most urban of contemporary music, hip-hop, is something that sounds like a recipe for disaster worthy of The Producers Bialystok & Bloom. That the results will win almost anyone over immediately is the secret of its charm, and belies one facet of Mr. Miranda’s talent- He’s a visionary who also happens to be one very talented writer, songwriter and performer. This vision has succeeded on Broadway, no less, and now? Hamilton is poised to be a cultural phenomenon the likes of which the theater hasn’t seen since West Side Story.” It’s both a piece of American culture and American history, in more ways than one that results in an irresistible piece of Americana that I could see being produced all over the country, internationally, in schools, and eventually, on film. If you don’t know about it yet, you will. 60 Minutes just featured it. It’s the kind of work that not only pulls audiences out of their seats, it’s the kind that will inspire countless young people to act, sing, write, create, and maybe even get into politics. (Gulp.)

“Look at where you started
the fact that you’re alive is a miracle.”*

In September, Mr. Miranda was named a MacArthur Foundation fellow, receiving one of 24 “genius grants” for 2015. I’ve wondered about some of their choices in the past. I’ve wished they’d chosen up and coming talent who are in there fighting to survive and hold onto their integrity in the process. (I’ve been secretly voting for the brilliant pianist/composer Craig Taborn for the past 10 years. Check out his “Junk Magic.”) Mr. Miranda is 35, and he’s already “made it.” It’s terribly hard being an Artist of any kind in this country, so far be it of me to have a problem with him getting some extra help. He’s “giving back”/donating part of his “genius grant” to Graham Windham, which helps children in need, and was founded by Hamilton’s wife, Elizabeth in 1806.

I’m not ready to call him a “genius” yet. If he keeps it up, he may prove himself to be one. But now? He’s got my full attention, and at the very least, I recommend you check out the Hamilton cast album, in lieu of paying a scalper $400. for the cheapest seats on Broadway.

Taking my own advice, but getting an original cast signed copy. Well? It’s history, after all.

We could sure use someone to come along and be that “next one” after Sondheim to pick up the mantel and write great, creative musicals that take musical theater further, (with all due respect to Matt Stone & Trey Parker and Book of Mormon. It remains to be seen if that’s a one shot deal, or not). Maybe it will be Lin-Manuel Miranda. Right now, it’s important and groundbreaking that with Hamilton, he’s taking hip-hop somewhere it’s never been- into “legit” musical theater, and showing the world that it has arrived as a serious musical style in American (and world) culture, as well as broadening its possibilities.

“Who lives, who dies, who tells  your story”* (The closing words)

I can only imagine what Robert Schumann experienced when he heard Chopin, but he expressed it in words for the Ages. There can be no doubt that Alexander Hamilton could never have imagined it, but Mr. Miranda has now, finally, told his story for the Ages. For me, I rejoice in the fact that there are new artists making great work NOW- “geniuses,” or not, time will tell. This minute, as his song says, “How lucky we are to be alive right now.” In “The greatest City in the world.”*

That’s what matters.

*-Soundtrack for this piece  “The Schuyler Sisters,” “That Would Be Enough”  and “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story,” by Lin-Manuel Miranda from Hamilton.

This post is dedicated to Kitty, Jane, their Mom and Family.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free since 2015! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate securely by PayPal below to allow me to continue. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art books & Music from my collection!
Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here.

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new pieces below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. I called Wayne Shorter one, here, but I’ve never had the privilege of knowing him. ↩

Robert Rauschenberg: Anagrams (A Pun)- But No Joke

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11 days after being here for the final day of the Chuck Close: Recent Works, I returned to Pace’s 534 West 25th Street Gallery to see Robert Rauschenberg: Anagrams, Arcadian Retreats, Anagrams (A Pun), on view until January 16, 2016. Up a few steps to the back office area where the show continues, a short video of Rauschenberg at work in on view. As the camera looks down from slightly above, I noticed that surrounding him all over his studio were numerous works consisting of seemingly chaotic collages of images. I couldn’t help wondering about the effect on a visitor’s brain of spending 8 hours in that studio, and what it would  feel like to then walk outside. I wondered what they said about the images playing inside of Rauschenberg’s mind all the time. Day in. Day out, for the 82 years he lived. It might be why there’s so much to see in even one of his works. This new show makes clear that it may be a long time yet until everything that brain, and he, created in his professional life from the 1950’s until he passed in 2008 is seen, fully appreciated and assimilated.

These works are dated 1996 and 97. Visually, his work presaged the visual chaos of the internet age, and the graphic print style of David Carson and others. Seen in 2015 it fits right in with the everyday chaos of NYC, both on the physical level, where pedestrians have to face a never ending life, death or injury battle with bikes, cars, buses, trucks and lord knows whatever else, simply to get from point A to point B, while being bombarded with every square inch plastered with ads, images or graffiti on the visual level.

The modern world makes me try to make sense out of its visual chaos- like Rauschenberg did so masterfully.

Anagrams, Arcadian Retreats, Anagrams (A Pun) is a bit different from any Rauschenberg show I’ve yet seen. It’s concise yet catholic, coherent and sharply focused on these three series of works, which share working methods, making it very hard to tell which work is from which series. As such, it’s a rare opportunity to see a selection of late works. Pace’s release states the images are from Rauschenberg’s own photos, which continues a trend in recent shows of artists using, or basing their work on their own photographs (Richard Estes, Chuck Close). Rauschenberg appears to have been at the forefront of image manipulation, made possible by software like Photoshop, while adding “painterly elements.” Regarding exactly what these pieces are and how they were made, Pace’s press release says- to create these works, “he developed and perfected a powerful new technique combing dye transfer with novel supports including plaster, large-scale paper and polylaminate panels…The process produced an aqueous and fluid appearance, blurring the crisp edges of his photographs…The inkjet dye process also liberated Rauschenberg from the mechanical production of printing screens, allowing him to produce sheets exclusively from his own photography on an in-studio printer. In addition to a more painterly effect, these works reflect a more nimble and freer approach to image-making than earlier works which were bound by the limitations of the mechanical process.”

 

It’s tempting to “read into” the resulting images, some of which are repeated verbatim in other works, and take them as a visual language, to be deciphered for “messages,” even hidden meanings. That will take a lot of looking to compile. Though “anagram” is a word about words, I don’t think I’ll be taking it that literally. I prefer to let the images speak, and this show is an orgy for the eye.

The works range from very large to large and a few of medium size. Two, including the largest, (one, I felt to be the most impactful piece in the show), are owned by the Whitney. Most of the others are not titled, detailed or described. Many feature images from different cultures around the world from the Sphinx and the Pyramids to traditional costumes, apparently from trips he had taken shortly before, which are juxtaposed with images from the western world, like construction equipment, firefighters, store fronts, junked cars, bicycles and soda bottles. Despite being combined, layered, even processed, the results don’t look like images produced in Photoshop. They look more like paintings, which I find somewhat remarkable, probably because I am so used to seeing Photoshopped Photographs. While he anticipated digital image processing and manipulation in works gong back to the late 1950’s, he continued doing things entirely his own way, and only selectively using technology when it suited his aims.

I previously saw some works from these series in the 1977 Guggenheim Rauschenberg Retrospective, but these were new to me. Seeing only works from these series brought home how wonderful they are. They’re different from what he had done earlier in his career, yet they have that undeniable “Rauschenberg” feel. In spite of being Photo based, they retain a “painterly” look, which I think is remarkable, and one of the things that sets his work apart from all those doing these types of works today. For me, Rauschenberg is kind of an American Picasso of the 2nd half of the 20th Century- his creativity and inventiveness knew no bounds. Like Picasso, he never stopped innovating and trying new things and techniques. Even 7 years after his passing, we continue to discover new facets of this work, which seems as fresh and contemporary as anything else around today. That will, no doubt, continue at the first full scale retrospective of his work since the Guggenheim’s 1997 blockbuster to be held next year at the Tate Modern, London.

These are wonderful works that reward repeated looks from a period of the Artist’s career that strikes me as being under appreciated. They seem so of the moment, it’s hard to think they’re going on 20 years old. In that sense, like their creator, they are ahead of their time, even now. I’m continuing to try and get the modern world to look like a Rauschenberg to me, to make that kind of sense, possibly even find the “Art” in it…that is when I’m not dodging bikes, cars, and the rest to actually feel safe enough in it to look around. That danger is what’s missing in these Rauschenbergs. Probably because he seems to be focused on the bigger picture, the dangers of the modern world to ancient cultures and ancient creatures. Including man.

On a bigger scale, like that bike I don’t see coming the wrong way on a one way street, the modern world is obliterating all that came before.

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*-Soundtrack for this piece is “Crosstown Traffic,” by Jimi Hendrix.

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Why I’m Not Going To See “Steve Jobs”

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Back cover of MacWorld UK for it’s Steve Jobs tribute after he passed in 2011. I’ve never been able to find out if it was a real Apple Ad or not.

One. Mrs. Steve Jobs calls it “fiction.”

Two. Walt Mossberg says the Jobs he knew “isn’t in the film.”

Three. As people who know me know, I’ve been an Apple guy since 1990, so I lived through much of this by watching the Apple Keynotes & Media events (which you can still watch free on iTunes), by following Apple, and yes, through the media. The real danger in the film Steve Jobs I fear, even as a hard core supporter of artistic license and free speech, is that people who don’t know anything about Steve Jobs will make their minds up solely on the basis of this, and other Jobs films, the way Oliver Stone’s JFK has influenced the minds of so many that Oswald didn’t act alone. (Sorry. I think he did.) I was hoping Steve Jobs would be a kind of outright fantasy like the wonderful I’m Not There is “about” Bob Dylan. It gives a sense of him without attempting the impossible and trying to recreate him. For me, that is the best course to take. Even the “documentaries” released on Jobs thus far strike me as being messes.

It’s a real shame. Jobs though, by his own admission, was not a perfect human being, is an important enough one to deserve much better. Society, especially the young who may become “the next Steve Jobs,” deserves much better. If you really want to read something that catches the real Steve better, read Becoming Steve Jobs, by Brent Schlender & Rick Tetzeli. No less than Apple guru John Gruber calls it “remarkable,” and says it is “the book about Steve Jobs the world deserves.”

When you start seeing really mild mannered people like Tim Cook, who offered Mr. Jobs his own liver, get his dander up, you know it’s taken a lot. I feel for him, Mrs. Jobs, and those who actually knew Steve Jobs. I can’t even imagine their frustration.

“Yes, she’s gone like the rainbow that shined yesterday
But now she’s home beside me and I’d like her here to stay
She’s a lone forsaken beauty and it’s don’t trust anyone
I wish I was beside her but I’m not there, I’m gone”*

Cast your vote with your wallet and STAY AWAY.

*Soundtrack for this piece is “I’m Not There” by Bob Dylan, Steve Jobs favorite musician, which appears on the “Basement Tapes” (Bootleg Series, Vol  11), and was written by Bob Dylan and published by Dwarf Music.

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Picasso Sculpts The Next Dimension

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In the summer of 1980 I made 2 trips to New York specifically to see the Picasso Retrospective at Moma. Consisting of over 350 works (including the masterpiece Guernica in its farewell before being returned to Spain as Picasso requested in his will), it filled the entire building. I remember walking around the show in a daze. After the first floor, my brain had glossed over the way it does during mind-blowing sex. I staggered back out into the sunlight utterly overwhelmed…

Here it ALL was. ALL of what “Modern Art” was, and is. What else did you need to see?

Being a working musician (small “m” in my case) at the time, I didn’t give any thought to what it must have been like to have been an Artist seeing it. It must have felt like I did the first time I heard Jaco Pastorius a few years before. As a bassist, I almost threw my Rickenbacker 4001 electric bass into Miami’s Biscayne Bay that night (for real)- there was almost nothing left to play on it. I sold my Rick and started playing the upright bass (double bass or bass violin as it’s variously known). Can you imagine being an Artist and seeing this show? You must have left it feeling like I did after hearing Jaco-

“Now what? What’s left to do that he didn’t do?”

I was reminded of all of this while attending another Picasso blockbuster show at Moma today, 35 years after that one- Picasso Sculpture.

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“Do not attempt to adjust the horizontal…the vertical…” or, your Absinthe Spoon.

Like many Artists in all realms of the Arts, and many “other” people (I’ll be in there, too), Picasso may not be high on the list awaiting canonization as a saint. Yet, as an Artist, his legacy is likely to astound and influence Artists and Art lovers alike for centuries to come. Had he “only” been a Sculptor people would be talking about him being among the greatest, both in terms of his work and how many unique styles he invented or co-invented.

Hmmm…kinda like that Spanish Painter. What’s his name? Oh yeah. Picasso.

It’s the name that stands like the gigantic monolith in “2001” in the middle of the road to the future of art, where everything that is or will be is built on the shoulders of what was.

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“Open the Pod Bay Doors, Pablo Ruiz.”

I feel for the Artists of today, or tomorrow, who’s life and work lie along that road. What’s left? Indeed.

Even only viewing his work in one medium (if you can call it one)- sculpture, his achievement is almost beyond comparison. Amazingly, though his dad was an Artist (a Painter) AND an Art teacher, Picasso had no training in Sculpture. Perhaps this is why, after he found his footing in it, his work quickly achieved a freedom that had never been seen before. He had nothing to “unlearn.”

Then, he began his journey towards freeing his vision. That is what we see here.

Whether working in “traditional” materials (especially bronze- more on that in a moment), or using things that had never been used in sculpture before, what’s now called “found” materials, his endless creativity, often in this show in interpreting the human form, astounds. In spite of the fact that there may be more monographs on Picasso than any other artist of the 20th Century much of what’s on view was new to my eye. Unlike any art monograph yet published (Coco Rocha’s app Study of Pose possibly excepted), you can get a full 360 degree view by walking around almost all of the pieces on display on Moma’s 5th Floor. As much as anything else it is, sculpture is a 360 degree medium.

Scale makes no difference to the impact these works have, either. Some are a few inches tall, moquettes (models) for what became very large/monumental public sculptures, like the one in the Daley Center, Chicago. Thought startlingly tiny for those who have seen the monumental versions, they have a different effect, yet one that is every bit as compelling. They reminded me of the amazing show of Bernini’s original small clay models of many of his monumental masterpieces at TM a couple years ago. Like architects creating architectural models (and there happens to be an interesting show of them on the 2nd Floor in the drawings galleries), Picasso, also, proves to be a master of scale.

What would Michelangelo think?

The first thing Picasso changed was the definition of the word “Sculpture” in Art. Truth be told, a number of these pieces are not “Sculpture,” in the traditional sense. Some are Collages (an art form he co-invented), multi-media works, a few are constructions, plastic arts, and yes, some are traditional Sculptures. But, as they are 3 dimensional works, they are being called Sculpture under a broader than traditional definition.

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Click, to enter another dimension.

The second thing he changed was the materials that could be used (including every day things like gloves, sand, upholstery fringe, absinthe spoons, nails, tin plate, and wire – all by 1930).

Most compelling for me among the traditional materials were the bronzes Picasso made while living in Paris during the Nazi occupation. They constricted bronze to military use only, but Picasso brazenly managed to get enough of it to  continue to work in it during the occupation. He, and his collaborators, no doubt risked death making these works in, of course, a style of art the Nazis had already branded “degenerate.” For me, the examples displayed are among the highlights of the show. (Since my pieces to this point have been about shows that have ended, or were about to, and this one recently opened and runs until February 7, 2016, I’m not including pics of the work to allow you to see it for yourself, which you should. Photos are allowed, and I’ll probably show some later.)

But, of course, the changes Picasso made didn’t end there. His creativity knew no bounds, and no one “style” could hold him for long.

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Cubism, which he co-founded, the style of painting that plays with dimensional perception, in 2 dimensions, has to rely on different techniques as sculpture. This may be why this section of the show is more interesting than it is filled with his best work. In the case of the work on view, it’s more an appendage to the paintings.

As we move to the next chronological gallery, it seems that as Picasso moved ahead from Cubism, he moved past dimension to dismantling the human body in ways no one- not even the surrealists had considered. In these works, starting with his wire figures, a whole nother world suddenly opens.

It’s as if Picasso had finally achieved the goal he was after when he (Braque, Gris and Leger) started Cubism- to achieve an entirely new way of seeing that existed beyond the 3 dimensions he was “bending” with Cubism, one that existed only in the dimension of his imagination.

After this breakthrough, Picasso was finally free. He then proceeded to dip in and out of the styles he had created, or elements of them, as parts of the larger language he had compiled over all these years by the time of his oft misunderstood later works, and often in the service of depicting his current muse in ways that only he could see her.

And then? We could, too.

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Soundtrack for this piece- “Kind Of Blue” by Miles Davis- the whole album, released in August, 1959. I’ve often called Miles “the Picasso of Jazz.” The similarities in their careers, personalities, bodies of work are fascinating and compelling.

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Welcome To New York, Pope Francis!

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“See me,
feel me,
touch me,
heal me”*

10 foot high security fencing lined both sides of Fifth Avenue for blocks leading to St Patrick’s for the Pope’s visit tonite, seen here from the corner of West 53rd & 5th-

Pope’s eye view. Standing in 5th Avenue, looking towards the sidewalk, approximating the view the Pope will have when he passes here. Of course, the public will be on the other side of the fence.

5th Avenue at West 53td Street. MoMA is 1,000 or so feet to the left.

When did it come to THIS?

*-Soundtrack for this piece- “See Me, Feel Me” By The Who written by Peter Townshend, published by Spirit One Music OBO Towser Tunes.

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Metropolitan Museum of Art Named World’s Top Museum…

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in TripAdvisor.

Or? You could have just gotten that idea here, or here.

Here’s my bouquet as well.

*Soundtrack for this piece- “You Are The Sunshine Of My Life” By Stevie Wonder. EMI Publishing.

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We Will Never Forget

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…Neither will I.

This is the view from my window tonite during this year’s “Tribute In Light,” which I’ve always felt to be a wonderful idea. I used to be able to see the World Trade Center from here, and this is the view I had I saw it on fire shortly after the first plane hit the morning of 9/11. (Update- In honor of the 20th Anniversary of 9/11 on September 11, 2021, I decided to publish my recollections of 9/11 & the photos I took that day for the first time in my piece titled Remembering 9/11.)

I took this from Jersey City, NJ tonite  You can see that the lights are actually a bit south of where the Towers stood. The new “Freedom Tower” is directly west of where the North Tower stood (it would be directly behind it in this photo, to the left of it in the first pic).

“How I wish, how I wish you were here.”*

*Soundtrack to this piece- “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd written by Roger Waters & David Gilmour, published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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From America, It’s The “Late Show”

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Denizen of all things late at night that I am, of course I’m watching the first episode of the Late Show with Stephen Colbert  as we speak and I’m struck by the feeling that one of the biggest changes from Late Night with David Letterman is the New York-Centric attitude is apparently being left behind for a more national approach. One look at the show’s intro seemed to make this clear right “off the bat”, with Colbert singing the National Anthem, first at a baseball field in Central Park, and then at different spots all around the country.

Well, if this is indeed his approach, it’s his choice. I wish him good luck. Really.

Behind the famous awning David Letterman is taping his final “Late Night” as the media scrums on Broadway, 5:30pm, May 20.

It gave me pause to reflect on what Dave meant to New York.

Yes, I am a “Letterman guy” of long standing, going all the way back to the early days of Late Night. It’s hard to explain why, and what he means to me. Maybe one day I’ll try. He was on the air here beginning in 1982 and throughout all the changes, and the renaissance NYC underwent right up to his final Show this past May 20. The City was as much a part of his show as it was for any local TV News show. Who will forget his opening monologue when his show come back on the air after 9/11, one of the first shows to return. It remains one of his finest moments. Watching it again, almost exactly 14 years later, I was taken by the many levels on which he expressed how he felt about New York.

Then it struck me that David Letterman was here when we needed him, from the early ’80’s through the dot com boom and 9/11…to make us laugh in face of what life was like here at the time, to remind us why we were here, why we stayed here no matter the danger, hardships, absurdity of life here at times, and to show us parts of what is, eternally, even in bad times, great about New York City. Now? The whole world wants to come here, and many want to live here at seemingly any cost.

He played a part in that.

Dave would point out things from the most banal to the most extraordinary about NYC and life in it, then he’d go out to the street and do the most outrageous things that none of us could ever get away with (or get someone like Rupert Gee or Larry “Bud” Melman to). He gave you the feeling that he not only knew what we were all going through, he also knew the way to over come it- by laughing at it, or the absurdity of it. You had the feeling he saw through everything- no matter what. He also would do magical things. Things that you could only see in NYC, right there on 53rd Street, like play tennis with Serena Williams or take a stroll down it with Lady GaGa and Billy Murray (you can see both on youtube). It all spoke of “other possibilities” for our lives, and our lives in NYC. You never know- ANYTHING could happen, around any corner, at any moment! Dave reminded you that THAT is one of the greatest things about being in NYC.

Maybe now we in NYC don’t “need” Dave as much as we did then- I don’t know. I’ll miss him.

A little piece of New York left when Dave drove by me after that last May 20th Show. I’m not sure how many others who live here felt it. It’s one of those small changes life brings every day that’ll hit us one day in the future. But, one by one, as they happen, the place changes. A small piece of it is gone. The question becomes…”What’s next?”

I was standing there in the midst of that very large crowd one minute,

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A tiny part of the crowd on May 20, 2015. It extends 200 feet to the right.

and as soon as that van went past, I remember feeling that an era ended and then there was this space, this hole, for whatever the next thing would be that would be part of New, New York.

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Change happens in a New York Minute. Dave leaves for the last time as he is driven past me and hundreds of fans. West 53rd Street, May 20th.

Only it wasn’t here yet. (Or, is it?)

I wondered about the effect Dave leaving will have on those “little” New Yorkers he thrust into the national spotlight…Rupert Gee of the Hello Deli, right there on 53rd, downstairs at the Ed Sullivan Theater, and the others. You can still go into Hello Deli every day (except Sunday) and Rupert will take your order. He’s a very down to earth, salt of New York kinda guy. Good luck to him and all of them.

We all leave, eventually, whether it’s after a day, a year, 20 years in Derek Jeter’s case, 32 years in Letterman’s, or after our whole life. Not many become a piece of the fabric of New York City, and a reason to be proud to live here.

David Letterman was one of both, and one of those who had a role in making New York City what it is today. I hope the City doesn’t forget that.

As one New Yorker? I say, “From New York, to wherever you are, Thanks, Dave.”

*-Soundtrack for this piece, “Late Night with David Letterman Theme” by Paul Shaffer. I loved the old opening to the show, like the “Nighthawk in flight,” which changed many times.

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