November 22nd- Sixty Years On

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“Yes, I’ll sit with you and talk, let your eyes relive again
I know my vintage prayers would be very much the same”*-
“Sixty Years On,” by Elton John & Bernie Taupin

November 22nd, 1963. It’s a day that may not mean much to many who weren’t born yet, but, if you were alive that day, I think it’s a day none of us have forgotten. I remember it all, from the safe distance of 1,370, or so, miles away as the owl majestically flies from Dallas, TX to NYC. As it turned out, it wasn’t a safe distance at all.

As horrific as all the events of the weekend of Friday November 22nd, through Sunday, the 24th, 1963 were, which included a President being killed, and watching another man being killed for the first time on live TV (and of the first time in my life). John F. Kennedy being assassinated is an event that, 60 years ago today as I write, just hasn’t gone away. I’m not talking about the who-done-the horrible deed, the endless conspiracy theories, or the circus surrounding the events. I’m talking about something much, much bigger that rarely gets mentioned, lost in all the other talk that, frankly, just doesn’t matter any more. If Lee Harvey Oswald didn’t kill JFK, whoever did is most likely dead by now as is anyone he might have been involved with. 

He, or they, are no longer the point. What matters now is what’s happened to everyone else. 

Cornell Capa (Robert’s brother), JFK During a campaign event, NYC, USA, October 19, 1960. Click any photo for full size.

Set the way, way back machine to the beginning… I remember when JFK ran for President in 1960. He was so very well-spoken and it sure sounded like it came from the heart. Then there was his incredible feat of saving his crew after the PT boat he was commanding in the Pacific during World War II was hit and sunk. I came to admire him.

From Four Days by the UPI & American Heritage Magazine

Fast forward to Friday, November 22nd, 1963. There I was in the school nurse’s office, due to after-effects of a bad accident I suffered a few months before when I was hit in the head by a baseball bat. Accidentally, I hope. I was out cold before my face hit the concrete. No one came to help me for about 40 minutes as I lay unconscious. I finally got up and staggered home, still without any help. I was out of school for a month, and continuing to have problems with the cuts on my face and head healing. At 12:30pm, as I sat there waiting the nurse’s attention, I heard the radio report coming over the speaker above me: JFK had been shot in his motorcade in Dallas.

There are other, more graphic shots of this, but this grainy still from a Film speaks to me much more. Jackie was the first one to feel our pain. Though none of us could imagine her’s. She would be an incredible model of class & strength from this moment on. *-UPI Newsfilm image from Four Days.

What???????

There really are just no words for the feeling I had. It was completely unfathomable. 

I can still hear that radio report…

Even for a little kid- everything stopped. People just looked at each other with their mouths open, unable to speak.

A short while later they announced he was dead.

The New York Times, November 23, 1963

To say it was beyond belief is cliche, but true. It was beyond anything anyone could imagine. I had never experienced anything like this. It was something I had never even considered- that a man in such a position could be killed, outside of war.

My copy of Four Days, the 1964 “historical record,” as it says, published by the UPI and American Heritage Magazine. Copies trade on eBay today for about $3.

I don’t remember getting home, but I do remember that everyone was glued to their TV when I did from then on, and continually, for the better part of four days: Friday through Monday, when JFK was buried. It became the title of the book American Heritage Magazine & the UPI published later as a, mostly, visual record. There he sits in the cover Photo taken mere minutes before the tragedy, in the prime of life, in a Photo that, unbeknownst to everyone at the time, marked the end of the world as we knew it. Meanwhile, back in the moment, everyone & everything in the country stopped to watch and to mourn. As the day wore on, nothing changed that initial feeling of utter disbelief.

SIXTY YEARS later (I shook my head in amazement as I typed that) it still feels unreal. 

From Four Days

I watched all the rest of it unfold live. Most memorably, Sunday, November 24th. 

From Four Days

After lying in state at the White House on Saturday, on Sunday, a long procession and ceremonies took his body to the Capitol in a strangely stark light, as the pictures above show. At least it appeared that way on black & white televisions and how it is burned into my memory. It was like an other-worldly and very powerful spotlight was being focused on the procession. Then, a little after 11am, as I was sitting in my living room, watching TV with my mom, who was in and out of the room, Lee Harvey Oswald, JFK’s accused assassin, was brought down to the basement garage under the police station by Dallas Police for transfer to a larger prison. All of a sudden, on live TV, a man lurched out from the right and shot him in the mid-section!!! A short time later, Oswald, too, was dead.

Oswald is shot by Ruby as I watched on live TV. *-UPI Newsfilm image from Four Days.

It was the first murder ever broadcast on live television.

As a little kid watching this happen in front of him, it was just one more thing on the pile of unbelievable things that had gone on the past 3 days. Somehow, it didn’t register as a separate event, as horrific as it was. I wonder about that now. My mom didn’t say a word. 

At that point, in late November, 1963, I was, already, no stranger to fear. A few years earlier, we were pushed to the brink of the unthinkable- nuclear war- during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Adults figured Washington D.C. and NYC would be the first targets of missiles fired from Cuba or submarine. People were glued to radios and TVs then to learn of the latest developments until tensions finally lessened after what felt like forever. It was, perhaps, the peak moment of terror in the entire Cold War which was raging in full effect during my childhood and beyond.

Students being taught to hide under their desks in the event of an atomic explosion nearby(!) *-Still from Duck & Cover.

In “response,” I was among the millions of kids being taught to “Duck and Cover” under our desks at school to “prepare” for a nuclear bomb going off in the vicinity- at any time! We were also taught where the Fallout Shelters were. There was no mention during either of these instructions about meeting up with our families. I didn’t think about that at the time I was under my desk, staring at the floor. Can you imagine what the “fallout” would be if this worthless nonsense was taught to little kids today?

A vintage Fallout Shelter sign. I had to shoot it with the flash because the sign is so old and rusted only the reflective paint has held up. I didn’t bother to ask if there was still a fallout shelter there. Hopefully, I won’t need to find out. West 18th Street, November 27, 2023.

All of a sudden, my quiet childhood had been turned upside down by the insanity of world politics. 

Out of everything that happened during those years, did JFK being murdered have the biggest effect on the country and the world?

His death effected my life in the way few presidents have either during their lives or after their deaths, in countless ways I couldn’t imagine as a little kid in November, 1963. (None of this is said politically. One of the casualties of November 22nd was my permanent loss of interest in politics.) For instance- Some years later, I was in the Vietnam Draft Lottery. Luckily, my birthdate came up too high and I wasn’t called. If I had been called, there is no doubt in my mind, with what I know now, that my name would be with the other casualties up on that wall  in Washington instead of writing about the following 60 years here.

It’s possible JFK might have gotten us out of it before my number came up, but, we’ll never know. Luckily, November 22nd, 1963 didn’t indirectly cost me my life as collateral fallout, but that fallout has covered the world in countless ways- if you look for it. It turns out there is no such thing as being a “safe distance” from the events of that day. I’ve often thought the country has never been the same since November 22nd, 1963. I’ve heard a number of others say that, too. But, that’s hard to quantify. It’s something no one who was born after can really understand. The world would have been different had John F. Kennedy lived, but we’ll never know how. We’ll also never know if “different” would have been “better.” 

JFK never got to grow old in his beloved rocking chair. I wonder what he would have made of the country & the world as he did. Bruce Catton writes, ironically, “The future sets us free. It is our escape hatch.” From Four Days.

On the 60th Anniversary of his death, that’s what I think about. Not the distracting noise about bullet theories. I think about the world those bullets fired sixty years ago today have given us, and how JFK’s death has effected me and everyone, whether we know how, or not. And, how it continues to.

If all of its ramifications could possibly be tallied, World War II is possibly the most significant event of the previous generation. If ALL of their ramifications could possibly be tallied, it feels to me that (through the year 2000) the JFK Assassination and the Moon Landing, which he committed the nation to achieving before the end of the 1960s, were the two most significant events of my generation.

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “Sixty Years On,” by Elton John & Bernie Taupin from Elton John, his classic 1970 debut album, performed above Live at the Royal Opera House in 2002.

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Antoine de Saint-Exupéry: Artist

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The next lines are- “But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model. That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter’s career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside1.”

On April 6, 1943, the story broke that an alien being had descended to Earth; not in Roswell, New Mexico, but on the other side of the world from it as the owl flies in the Sahara Desert. This small being appeared to the pilot of a crashed plane, who was suffering from severe dehydration, over what turned out to be the last week of the visitor’s one-year stay on the Earth; just one of the planets he visited on a desperate mission to secure the protection of his beloved rose on his home asteroid (a world so small he once watched 44 sunsets on a single day), and rid it of a baobab infestation.

After a week, he suddenly disappeared.

The pilot lying at the foot of a cliff with his plane in the distance, 1942, Watercolor and ink on tracing paper. Not published in the final book, in which he chose to leave out any representation of the pilot. It’s damaged condition ironically echoes that of the plane.

On or about July 31, 1944, that pilot, the only person to witness & record the event and what transpired during that week, also suddenly disappeared with nary a trace at just 44 years of age. He left behind the story and renderings of their encounter.

The world has never been the same since.

Publishing history. 1943 1st Edition, 1st Printing copies of Le Petit Prince, in the original French it was written in, right, and The Little Prince, in the original English translation by Katherine Woods, left, both published in the USA by Reynal & Hitchcock who had asked Saint-Exupéry for a children’s book. This marked the first time the author had created Art for his books and/or their covers. It wouldn’t be until after the war that the book would be published in France.

April 6, 2023 marks the 80th Anniversary of the publication of The Little Prince by the remarkable Author, aviator, and resolute French patriot Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (aka Saint-Ex). Charged with writing a “children’s book” by his publishers, the result is a book that defies categorization that is now 80 years in on its way to timeless.

You’re looking at a remarkable and historic Photograph. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry after his crash in the Sahara desert, 1935. *-per Alexandre Tanase of the Succession Saint Exupéry-d’Agay, Paris; “Saint Exupéry next to his Caudron Simoun C630 F-ANRY. It was not taken right after the accident (and, consequently, not by Saint Exupéry himself or Prévot). This picture and others (there is a full series of them) were taken a few days after Saint Exupéry and Prévot were found, when they came back with others, especially Suzanne and Emile Raccaud, the couple that hosted Saint Exupéry after he was rescued. It is either Emile or Suzanne who took the picture.”

“For I do not want any one to read my book carelessly. I have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories. Six years have already passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend2

The book is apparently set at the scene of Saint-Ex’s 1935 Sahara Desert plane crash which he survived only to almost perish of dehydration in the days after before he and his navigator/mechanic, André Prévot, were rescued by a passing Bedouin. The story was recounted in his memoir, Wind, Sand and Stars, 1939, before he used it, again, as the setting of The Little Prince, the last book he would finish. Earlier this year, The Morgan Library presented The Little Prince: Taking Flight, which provided a fascinating look at Saint-Exupéry’s original Art for The Little Prince, as well as text and Art that he decided not to include in the final book. As a prior Morgan show, 2014’s The Little Prince: A New York Story, reminded us, he created the book in NYC while he was in exile after the fall of France in World War II.

1st edition/1st printing copy of Wartime Writings, 1982, with a foreword by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, from my collection.

“He was… against the armistice and ‘stole’ a transport plane in Bordeaux to convey forty young pilots to North Africa in a vain attempt to continue the war there. When he discovered that the armistice extended to North Africa as well as France, he was at an impasse…. Without being consulted, Saint-Exupéry found himself nominated for a position on the Vichy National Council, an offer he immediately refused. He did not, however, feel he could join the ‘Free French’ group behind General de Gaulle. (‘I should have followed him with joy against the Germans, but could not follow him against Frenchmen.’) …With enormous difficulty he obtained a passport for the United States…In December, 1940 he sailed from Lisbon to America. Once established in New York, he was depressed by the isolationist reaction of American citizens to war and shocked by the conflicts between exiled French groups (some of who harassed Saint-Ex over the Vichy Council nomination).” Anne Morrow Lindbergh, author and wife of Charles Lindbergh3.

It was in these circumstances that he wrote, and created the Art for, The Little Prince. On April 2nd, 1943, a few days before its publication on April 6,, at the age of 42, he boarded a troop transport with 50,000 soldiers and returned to France to return to combat.

No one or nothing could stop him, though I can’t tell if the soldier on the right is trying to. A die-hard patriot, Saint-Ex is seen piloting a reconnaissance plane in 1944, shortly before his death, in a scene eerily similar to what his departure on his last flight may have looked like. He crashed for the 5th time on one such flight around the time of this Photo. Yet, he managed to get permission to go back up. *-Photo by John Philips, from The New York Times, April 11, 2008.

By July, 1944, at 44, he was overage for a flier (38 was the cutoff), overweight, and suffering from the aftereffects of FIVE crashes4. He was unable to put his flight suit on by himself, or to turn his head to the left to spot enemy planes. Still, due to his prestige, contacts, non-stop politicking (he volunteered for every mission), and indomitable desire to fight, nothing would stop him. “I have no taste for war, but I cannot remain behind the lines.” he said5. After training in a P-38 Lightning, he flew 8 reconnaissance missions, one ending in his fifth crash.

The Little Prince: Taking Flight, Installation view, February 4, 2023.

Still, the powers that be somehow let him back in the cockpit for his ninth and what was supposed to be his last flight. While flying from Borgo, Corsica, headed for the Grenoble region of southern France, he suddenly disappeared, eerily like his most famous creation. Some facts are known, but there’s still no real evidence as to what happened to him6. In 2004, Stacy Schiff, author of a biography of Saint-Ex, wrote in The New York Times, “His was a noble death, made in the name of the greater good to which all of his literature returns. As his widow noted, the exit was custom-made, a meteoric fall at the end of a star-chasing life7.”

To date, The Little Prince (or Le Petit Prince, as Saint-Ex wrote it in his native French), has sold TWO HUNDRED MILLION copies8 and has appeared in 536 languages & dialects9. It continues to sell 1.8 MILLION copies a year10. 

Already, within one month of its U.S. publication there was discussion about just who The Little Prince was for. John Chamberlain wrote a glowing New York Times review of it within days of its publication, calling it “A fascinating fable for grown-ups.” Ad from The New York Times Book Review, May 9, 1943.

200 million copies sold, and I missed it. HOW is that possible? (Not that I am generally a fan of the very popular.) It was never assigned to me as a kid in school, and never found its way to me outside of it in my Art book-obsessed life. It was only after I met my Muse, Lana, who has been under its spell as her favorite book since she was 11, that I read it. Of its effects on her, she told me, “I looked at the sky and imagined the planet where the prince lives…I had many dreams about the little prince.” Coming to it later in life, it seems to me to be a book that one can read at any age (I do wonder how it would have hit me as a child). Saint-Ex was asked to write a children’s book by his publisher, but what he handed in is something that’s not quite a children’s book, nor purely a book for grown-ups. Which ever end of that telescope you look at it through, there are things that feel out of place.

The Little Prince opens with this image, ostensibly a “copy of the drawing” the narrator says he saw in a book. No doubt by Saint-Ex. Seen in my copy.

To wit, the very first image on the very first page of the book does make me wonder about the book’s intended audience. It’s surely something never seen in a “children’s book” before, or probably since, let alone right in the beginning of one. We are shown a Drawing of a boa constrictor wrapped around its prey, baring its teeth with the helpless, captured animal, looking straight into the jaws of death. Terrifying, even for this adult! Saint-Ex doesn’t stop there: the first THREE images in the book are of boa constrictors! “Toto, we’re not in Roswell anymore.” Such is the charm of the book, that I have yet to see anyone talk about this.

Looks harmless enough. The manuscript of the first page of the book showing Saint-Ex’s Drawing Number One, upper center, and Number Two, lower center. The Manuscript is written with graphite on “cheap, dime store tracing paper,” one Morgan staff member told me. Notice how the first image in the book, shown before, is in a different style than his Drawing Numbers One and Two. As I stood looking at this page I was struck by this question- How many billions of pieces of paper contain words and Art work on them? How many of them turned out to be the first page of an immortal book?

Saint-Ex “softens” their impact in Page 1 of his text by discussing his early Artistic life, not snakes. We are shown his Drawing Number One (a boa) and his Drawing Number Two (also a boa) and then are told that the grown-ups he showed them to thought they were Drawings of a hat. Creatively frustrated, we are told that “That is why at the age of six I gave up what might have been a magnificent career as a painter.” (The Little Prince, P.2) At that moment, I was stopped by one question-

Is this true? 

10th Avenue, Chelsea, NYC, October, 2018.

In biographies of the Artist I could find no detail about his Artistic beginnings. A wall card in the show says “From a young age, Saint-Ex had a passion for art and literature, composing verse as early as six years old and illustrating his adolescent writings with doodles and caricatures.” In her biography of Saint-Ex, Stacy Schiff says, “His mother vouched for the accuracy of his many reports…11.” Those indirect words are all I’ve found. The earliest Art of his I’ve found is in the terrific complete collection of Saint-Ex’s Art titled Antoine de Saint-Exupéry:Dessins: Aquarelles, plumes, pastels et crayons (English title: Drawings: Watercolors, feathers, pastels and pencils) published in France in 2008.

The Complete Artwork. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry:Dessins: Aquarelles, plumes, pastels et crayons, published by Gallimard, France, 2008. Notice how Saint-Ex drew this figure’s head and face, and his unique way with hatching.

It begins with Drawings Saint-Ex did for “skits” accompanying his plots, which the wall card might be referring to, to be put on by he and his siblings for their mother at about 13. Nothing earlier is shown, so I was unable to verify his beginnings from age 6. From then on, he seemed to Draw incessantly evidenced by the fact the book totals 328 pages.

“It is for that purpose, again, that I have bought a box of paints and some pencils. It is hard to take up drawing again at my age, when I have never made any pictures except those of the boa constrictor from the outside and the boa constrictor from the inside, since I was six. I shall certainly try to make my portraits as true to life as possible. But I am not at all sure of success12

Though he had never included his Art in his books before The Little Prince, Drawing was by no means a new endeavor for him. In fact, the Art of The Little Prince shows this. The Drawings are executed with skill, invention and imagination. They show a sublime economy. Not one line is superfluous, and the coloring is done with subtlety and terrific taste.

The little prince on the planet invaded by a baobab, 1942, Watercolor and ink. At the time he Drew this, France had fallen to the Nazis, who had taken over all of Europe except for Great Britain. It’s hard for me not to see the baobabs in The Little Prince, which were taking over the little prince’s entire planet, as symbolizing the Nazis. The little prince struggles daily to rid his planet of baobabs, eventually leaving his planet/asteroid in search of better ways to.

It’s up for discussion how much of The Little Prince is cloaked autobiography and how much is a fairy tale. Certainly the plane crash in the desert and the pilot as the narrator line up on the side of ringing truth. Did he hallucinate the little prince while suffering extreme dehydration in the days after the crash? Saint-Ex was far from home when he wrote The Little Prince, and in need of friends. His little prince is too. When asked by the fox if he is looking for chickens, he replies,”I am looking for friends13.” The baobabs standing in for the Nazis, then engulfing his homeland and most of Europe, would be a plausible metaphor.

As published. “Perhaps you will ask me, “Why are there no other drawing in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs? The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful. When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity14.” It’s easy to see everything that was at stake for him at that moment in those words, and in this Drawing of the baobabs devouring his planet. Things that would cost him his life.

So would the little prince’s beloved rose being a characterization of Saint-Ex’s wife, Consuelo de Saint-Exupéry, according to quite a few.

Unknown Photographer, Portrait of Consuelo de Saint-Exupéry, ca. 1940-43. Consuelo was also an Artist & writer, who wrote a memoir of the couple’s relationship titled The Tale of the Rose.

The Morgan would seem to be one of them, and they included a beautiful portrait of her in the show next to a card reading “CONSUELO, THE ROSE.”

1st Edition/1st Printing copy of Night Flight, 1932, minus the dust jacket. From my collection.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is no one-hit wonder. The Little Prince was not his first rodeo. An early novel, Night Flight, was made into a 1933 Hollywood feature film of the same name starring Clark Gable, John Barrymore, Helen Hayes, Robert Montgomery and Myrna Loy. His memoir, Wind, Sand and Stars, 1939, won the prestigious (U.S.) National Book Award, and is still #3 on National Geographic’s list of 100 Greatest Adventure Books. Yet, I seriously doubt any of his many readers were prepared for what he gave them when The Little Prince was published here 80 years ago, and posthumously in France after the Liberation. For one thing, its prose is dramatically of a different style than that of Night Flight or Wind, Sand and Stars. It’s stripped down, almost zen-like, which enhances the open-ended nature of his words. This is immeasurably furthered by his Art, which often includes details not to be found in the text.

The entrance foyer for The Little Prince: A New York Story, at the Morgan Library, 2014. Photos were not permitted inside, so the photos of the Art shown here are from the Morgan’s The Little Prince: Taking Flight, 2023.

In 2014, Lana’s passion for the book convinced me to read it for the first time, just in time to see the landmark show, The Little Prince: A New York Story at the Morgan Library, an amazing, and fortuitous, coincidence. The Morgan relates the genesis of their involvement with The Little Prince thus-

“As he prepared to leave the city to rejoin the war effort as a reconnaissance pilot, Saint-Exupéry appeared at his friend Silvia Hamilton’s door wearing his military uniform. “I’d like to give you something splendid,” he said, “but this is all I have.” He tossed a rumpled paper bag onto her entryway table. Inside were the manuscript and drawings for The Little Prince, which the Morgan acquired from her in 196815.”

The entrance for the one-gallery The Little Prince: Taking Flight, Morgan Library, February 4, 2023.

I returned to The Morgan in January, 2023, to see the compact The Little Prince: Taking Flight16. Size didn’t matter; both shows were endlessly intriguing. A New York Story featured more of the manuscript, alongside a new translation of unpublished sections, than Taking Flight does. The latter is more focused on his Art- both published and unpublished. Of course, over both shows it was the Art that struck me, but I didn’t really appreciate it in my initial exposure to it in 2014 until later.

Over my three visits, The Little Prince: Taking Flight was never less crowded than this. January, 13, 2023, with another 3+ weeks left to run.

After seeing both shows, as I began looking into the long history of The Little Prince, I discovered that quite a few others have taken their shot at relating the story visually- in Art, Film, on the stage, in Opera, and you name it. I started exploring this realm, but was stopped almost immediately in each case. Why? For me, in each instance, whatever I looked at only served to send me running back to Saint-Ex’s version- i.e. his Art. 

Wait a minute. No one I’ve read has referred to Saint-Ex an “Artist.”

Installation view, The Little Prince: Taking Flight, January 23, 2023.

The “simple” Art he created for The Little Prince has held up against anyone else’s visual interpretation of it thus far. Here, for me, was the first, and the most important, “proof” that indeed he was an Artist, and an under-rated one at that. Then, the more I delved deeper into his Art, the more impressed by it I became. In The Little Prince, his work is beautifully subtle. In his Art (the original Drawings for which were rendered in the delicacy of pencil or ink and watercolor), we get the essence of his words, but often extra details that add even more layers to the text, and in a sense create a dialogue with it, while being essential and an irreplaceable part of the the whole experience that only the author, who was also the Artist, could create.

The little prince standing on the edge of a cliff, c.1942-3, Brown ink on paper. Everything about this is interesting: from the hatching on the lines, to the unique flowers (possibly roses), to the way Saint Ex carries the composition off without a single excess line.

Of course it is beloved by those who love the book, but why hasn’t his Art received more attention and acclaim as “Art?”

For one thing, I believe Saint-Ex purposely set a trap with the way he presents his Art. On the first page (showed earlier), he shows us his Drawings Number One and Two, which appear to be “simple” line drawings colored with watercolor (though he says he used colored pencil as a child). These are the traps. Having lowered our “Artistic expectations” about as low as possible right from the start (which also takes the pressure off of himself as the Illustrator of the book), he then proceeds to present much more finished Art as the book progresses.

Taking flight. The little prince flying over a planet with mountains and a river, 1942, Watercolor and ink.

Herein lies the second phenomenon: Only the Artist who happens to also be the author knows more than he or she’s said in the text. The little prince’s outfit, shown in the first image in this piece above, is a perfect example of what I mean. It is not described in anything near this detail we see in the Painting in the text! It seems to me that this is why the interpretations of others haven’t spoken to me. Saint-Ex has this unfair advantage over them that leaves them guessing.

“The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will–” (The Little Prince, P.28)

A major takeaway from The Little Prince for me, something I continue to think about, and one that I have not heard others address, is that over and over the narrator attempts to use Art to solve the little prince’s problems. First, by repeatedly Drawing him a sheep until he hits on one (that is quite abstract, zen-like, and reminds me of something the great Marcel Duchamp, a fellow French contemporary who was living in Greenwich Village in 1942, would come up with. As far as I know, they never met.) that satisfies him. Then, in the quote, above, and again, during his final encounter with the little prince the narrator feels Art is a key to solving a dilemma. Therein lies the sprit of a true Artist. In fact, more than one renowned Artist has told me they hoped their work “would change the world.”

The little prince looking at a mountain range, 1942, Watercolor and ink.

Over time, much of his Art (as seen in Dessins) shows a propensity for portraits and figures. Most of them are not “finished” to the degree we see in The Little Prince. I particularly find his faces to be unique. They’re drawn economically, with what appears to be quick lines, selectively minimalistic, and some daring details including a rakish lines forming a kind of “unibrow” in a number of them. It’s hard to tell the gender of a number of his Portrait and Figure Drawings, something that continues in some of The Little Prince Drawings. A number of his portraits are striking. Some appear to be quick sketches, others are more finished and more like “traditional” studies or portraits. But it is those that are “sketch-like” that stand out for me. Looking through the book, we see early echoes of what we would see in The Little Prince. Figures stand alone in fields, some sharing body or vague facial similarities to the little prince.

Unknown Photographer(s), Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, (Per Alexandre Tanase of the Succession Saint Exupéry-d’Agay, Paris) “taken in 1937  or 1938, in the apartment he was renting at the time, 15 Place Vauban in Paris.”

There are some who feel his books have, largely, the same “message.” Perhaps, it’s not surprising, then, that, as Dessins shows, was, also, a continual evolution of figures leading up to what stands as his final & ultimate realization. But, he was only 44 when he died. As different as The Little Prince is from Wind, Sand and Stars, which preceded it, all bets were off for where he would have taken his work had he lived. He remains, tragically, another great Artist taken from us all too soon by the war, along with Anne Frank and Charlotte Salomon, among too many others.

Am I saying that no one else should try to visually interpret The Little Prince? That’s up to them. I’m sure there are many who enjoy what has been created based on The Little Prince, and probably will with future interpretations. 

For itself, under the scrutiny of 2 museum shows, Saint-Ex’s Art surprises- as the book has countless readers. His Art comes across as ephemeral as its subject. For one thing, he created much of the Art for his timeless book on cheap dime store tracing paper: much of it bearing the visible watermark of Fidelity Onion Skin, a paper that clocks in at all of a 10 pound weight17!. Some of his pencil lines are fading. There is a cigarette burn hole right in the middle of one Drawing. Another has been crumpled up as if it were thrown out, then rescued. Others show signs of coarse handling. Through it all, his art has held up for 80 years. 

I was staggered when I saw this. Saint-Ex’s identity bracelet that he wore on his final flight found in a fishing net in 1998. Seen at the entrance of The Little Prince: A New York Story  at the Morgan Library in 2014.

Among the countless other things it is, The Little Prince is a lesson in what really matters in the face of the temporality of all things, the overwhelming noise that surrounds them, and all the things that don’t really matter we waste our lives on. Of invisible connections, of love, loss and longing in the aftermath of the little prince’s sudden disappearance (uncannily mimicked by the sudden, mysterious disappearance of its creator, himself, a year after its publication). One of my reasons for writing this piece was because The Little Prince reminds me of what I learned in my journey through cancer in 2007. In my February, 2017 10th Anniversary of treatment piece, “Cancer Saved My Life,” I wrote that I learned love and being loved were all that mattered in life, echoing the Fox’s lesson in The Little Prince valuing invisible connections over all. This February, as I mark 16 years free of cancer, I would add something I believed at the time but did not say: Art also matters. Art is one way to live on after death.

“All I had was a common rose…,” the wall card for this Drawing was titled. The little prince lying on his stomach, 1942, Watercolor and ink.

Francis Bacon said it took 75 to 100 years for art to be considered Art. I’ve always felt it took longer. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry has been living on for almost 80 years after his death through his work. With almost 2 million copies continuing to be sold each year, The Little Prince shows no sign of passing into obscurity. Will future generations of kids or adults be immune to its charms? It seems to me it will take something radical to happen to human beings to make them immune to it. My bet is by that point Saint-Ex will also have finally received due recognition as an Artist. 

…maybe they both did.

 

 

 

-For Lana, who sees with her heart, Happy Birthday!

 

 

 

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “It’s No Good” by Depeche Mode from their album Ultra, 1997.

“Don’t say you’re happy
Out there without me
I know you can’t be
‘Cause it’s no good…”

My sincere thanks to Alexandre Tanase of the Succession Saint Exupéry-d’Agay, Paris for his insights & expertise. 

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.

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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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. The Little Prince, P.10-11
  2. The Little Prince, P.18.
  3. from her Introduction to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wartime Writings 1939-44, P.xiv.
  4. These include a 1923 crash outside of Paris that left him with a fractured skull. The infamous, near-fatal, December, 1935 Sahara desert crash recounted in Wind, Sand and Stars and The Little Prince. A 1938 crash in Guatemala which left him with injuries that never healed, and a crash on a reconaissance mission just prior to his disappearance.
  5. Quoted by Anne Morrow Lindberg, ibid, P.xvi
  6. Sources for this paragraph are here, here, and here.
  7. Per.
  8. Per
  9. Per
  10. Per
  11. Stacy Schiff, Saint-Exupéry, P.101
  12. The Little Prince, P.19.
  13. The Little Prince, P.66
  14. The Little Prince, P.24.
  15. https://www.themorgan.org/exhibitions/little-prince
  16. From Alexandre Tanase of the Succession Saint Exupéry-d’Agay: “…this second Morgan exhibit was created following A la rencontre du petit prince (Meet the little prince), a unique retrospective presented in the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris, from February to June 2022, for which the Morgan framed and lent some sheets of the Little Prince manuscript, that was shown in France for the first time. This exhibit had more than 600 items, and was noteworthy especially for the artwork shown: many drawings presented for the first time (notably some Little Prince watercolors from the Consuelo Collection), and many that were discovered after the publication of the Album you mention in your article (which is from 2006, not 2008). For instance, the now famous Lettres à une inconnue. The links to this exhibition website: https://madparis.fr/A-la-rencontre-du-petit-prince-2120 and https://madparis.fr/A-la-rencontre-du-petit-prince). If I mention this, it is because you may then be interested in the catalog that was published for this event (by the same editor, Alban Cerisier, who worked on the 2006 book, Dessins). This second book is a reference concerning Saint Exupéry’s artwork.”
  17. Fidelity Onion Skin is STILL in production! One vendor characterizes it as- “Our best option for onion skin paper is Fidelity Onion Skin. This thin yet surprisingly strong paper is constructed from a true 10 lb. 100 percent wood fiber, giving you all of the most desirable onion skin qualities. This specific line is beloved by crafters in need of paper that offers easy folding, great acceptance of inks and optimal strength. Fidelity’s version is chlorine-free and features a smooth, uncoated finish. Popular choices include 25 x 38 and 8.5 x 11 onion paper.”

Roger Maris: Against All Odds

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

I was a Yankee fan as a kid. In 1961, I saw my first Yankees game in person. My father, who wa sabsent while present my entire childhood, didn’t take me. A neighbor took me with his kid. My seat was right next to one of the infamous steel pillars in the original Yankee Stadium that were death if you sat behind one. You’d see little. Being next to it partially blocked my view! Still, I remember watching Whitey Ford warm up right down in front of me. In those days the pitcher warmed up along the side lines. Not an ideal seat, but I was seeing the Yankees and what turned out to be one of the greatest teams ever. 

“The Ghosts of Yankee Stadium” may be the title of this Mural across the street from both the original Yankee Stadium and the new Stadium. It shows the heads of Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio and Roger Maris (5th from the left), among others hovering over the top of the original Yankee Stadium as seen from beneath the elevated subway on April 15, 2010. The pillars I referred to, shown on the left in the rendering of the upper deck, ran all the way down to the ground level. Looking at this photo now, the top half is quite similar to the view I had of the field that day, framed by 2 pillars, and the roof. The pillars were finally removed when the Stadium was remodeled in 1973. Directly behind me, the original Stadium stood half-demolished.

The team was stacked from top to bottom. They carried no less than three terrific catchers- Yogi Berra, Elston Howard, both all-time legends, and Johnny Blanchard, who as the 3rd stringer still managed to hit 21 home runs in 1961. An amazing feat, but far from the most amazing feat someone on that team accomplished.

Edward “Whitey” Ford on the mound of the original Yankee Stadium for the last time, September 21, 2008, before the final game played at the Stadium.

Edward “”Whitey” Ford was their ace pitcher. He was the epitome of smooth. A classy, unflappable, lefty with flaming white hair. Another Yankee legend having a great year. In 1961, he went 25 and 4 and won the Cy Young Award. He was one of EIGHT 1961 Yankee All-Stars, and 3 Hall of Famers.

Yogi Berra stands at home plate at the original Yankee Stadium, where he where he played for much of a legendary career, for the last time before the final game played there, September 21, 2008.

Elston Howard led the team with a .348 batting average, forcing the legendary catcher Yogi Berra to play left field.

Life, August 18, 1961. Photo by Philippe Halsman over a Babe Ruth Photo by William Greene. In the article inside, with 40+ games left in the season, Life said the odds were 4-1 against Roger Maris breaking the record. Mantle had a 50-50 chance.

At the core of the Yanks that year were Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. The “M&M Boys” as they were known. Good friends, as the season went on and it became apparent both of them had a legitimate shot at Babe Ruth’s 1927 record of 60 home runs in a season, the media painted them as rivals for Babe’s crown.

Drafted by the Yankees and raised in their system, Mickey was hugely popular when I was a kid- The most popular athlete in NYC. Roger Maris came to the Yanks later in his career in a trade. This set him up as a usurper to native son Mantle as they were going neck and neck to lead the team in home runs as summer became early fall as both chased the immortal Bambino, Babe Ruth’s record of 60 homers. Mantle was the golden boy of the Yankees, Joe DiMaggio’s successor in center field. Roger Maris wasn’t even a home-grown Yankee, having come to the team from Kansas City a few years before.

“Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris were much alike on one level, both coming from the Midwest, raised in working class families, with similar high school athletic stardom, and both marrying their high school sweethearts. Yet, in terms of personality and lifestyle, they were quite different. Mantle was more outgoing and gregarious than Maris, and liked being in the limelight. Though he played it humbly, Mantle really loved the media attention and he wanted the adulation. Maris only wanted to play baseball; he didn’t want the celebrity that might come with breaking Ruth’s record, and he especially did not want the press attention that hounded him that summer1.”

The Mickey Mantle Monument in Monument Vallery, seen in the original Yankee Stadium before the final game played there, September 21, 2008.

The fans were intensely behind Mickey Mantle as their choice to break the Babe’s record. As the new-comer, Roger Maris felt their wrath, from booing to phone threats, as well the unconscionable intrusions and wrath of the press. Things were getting hot and heavy, something Roger Maris wanted no part of. David Halberstam wrote of what Roger endured in 1961 in his book, October, 1964

“…The more he [Maris] became the story, the warier he became. The Yankees, completely unprepared for the media circus, gave him no help, offered him no protection, and set no guidelines. They let him, stubborn, suspicious and without guile, hang out there alone, utterly ill prepared for this ordeal; they never gave him a press officer to serve as a buffer between him and the media, or even set certain times when he would deal with the reporters, so what it would not be a constant burden. They did not filter requests, or tell him who he might trust and whom he might not or which requests were legitimate and which were trivial. Under all this pressure, Maris grew more and more irritable. He found that he could go nowhere without a phalanx of journalists….”

And, there was the non-existent “feud” with his friend Mantle some of the media concocted that didn’t exist…

Mickey Mantle got an infection in his hip and wound up in the hospital on September 28th, missing the last week of the regular season. Mantle, who had won a Triple Crown in 1956 (highest batting average, most homers & rbi’s), wound up second on the team in batting average and homers with .317 and was stopped at 54 homers, the most he ever hit in one season. It was now Roger’s record to win or lose. The press continued to give him a very hard time as the scrutiny intensified. Maris’s hair fell out in patches. But, he stuck it out. His attitude was “I’ll show them.” Maris hit #60 to tie the Babe on September 26th. Then, in the final game of the year (talk about pressure!), on October 1st, he hit his 61st, as I watched on tv.

Roger Maris being pushed out of the dugout after hitting #61, October 1, 1961. You can also see the pillars behind him I was stuck next to earlier that year. *UPI Photo

Typically, after he hit it, his teammates had to push him out of the dugout to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd. He. barely made it to the top step before quickly going back down.

The original Yankee Stadium at 1:40pm on September 21, 2008, the afternoon of the final game ever to be played in “the House that Ruth Built” that evening.

Fast forward to September 21, 2008, when something unprecedented happened. The Yankees played their final game at the original Yankee Stadium before it would be torn down and they would move into a new Stadium across the street. I was there for both the final game at the original Stadium, (built in 1923, “the House that Ruth built,” the home to an incredible amount of baseball history), and the first game played across the street at the new Stadium in spring, 2009. 

Baseball heaven. I’m standing in the very area Babe Ruth & Roger Maris once patrolled as Yankee rightfielders looking towards home plate at the original Yankee Stadium before the final game, September 21, 2008.

Before the final game they actually allowed fans on the sacred field- unprecedented in modern times. The same field that Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Lou Gehrig, Roger Maris and countless others had played on. As I walked slowly around the entire field, which I still can’t believe I actually did. I stopped in right field and stood there taking in the view. The same view Babe Ruth and Roger Maris, both right fielders, had. I was wearing my number 9 Roger Maris Yankee jersey. A newspaper photographer came up behind me and asked me to stand still. He shot me from behind looking at the huge stadium in front of me on its final day- showing #9 in its old right field stomping grounds. Then, I picked up my camera and took the picture above of the view I had looking in to home plate. If there’s such a thing as “baseball heaven,” this is it. 

The last game at the original Stadium is about to get underway as former Yankee greats from different periods stand at their former positions, September 21, 2008.

Being on the field was unforgettable. Then, later that night, the Yankees introduced an amazing array of former players, culminating with Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford, both making their final appearance on the field where so much of their legendary careers took place. Roger Maris, who passed away in 1985 at the age of 51, was not among them. Neither was Mickey Mantle, who died in 1995 at 63. 

All of this came back to me tonight, September 29, 2022, after current Yankee Aaron Judge hit his 61st home run of 2022, tying Roger Maris’s American League record. So far, Roger Maris’s record has stood for an ironic 61 years. Consider this- Babe Ruth’s record 60 home runs in 1927 stood for 34 years, until Roger Maris in 1961. Also ironically, Aaron Judge wears 99, Maris wore 9. 

I was struck by some strange feelings that really have nothing to do with Aaron Judge- an amazing player, beloved by teammates and fans. He stands a good chance of breaking the record. I hope he does and keeps going. Roger Maris’s wife and his son, Roger, Jr. were at the game. After the game Roger, Jr said that, in his opinion, if he hits #62, Aaron Judge should be recognized as the true all-time single season home run record holder- and not Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, who each hit more than 61 in a season, because each have been mentioned as possible drug users. Personally, I agree with Mr. Maris.

Watching the aftermath (I missed seeing Mr. Judge hit it live) tonight, and the interviews, my thoughts turned to Roger Maris. I’m not a believer in halls of fame. They’re too subjective. Someone worthy always gets left out. To this day, the powers that be have deemed Roger Maris not worthy of “enshrinement” in Cooperstown. Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle are both enshrined there. Aaron Judge may be one day. 

“Against All Odds.” Roger Maris’s plaque in Monument Valley in the original Yankee Stadium, September 21, 2008. The plaque, installed a year before he died, a few hundred feet to the left of where his 61st home run landed, reads like a belated apology.

Still, nothing can take away what Roger Maris accomplished in 1961. Against all the odds, as his plaque in Monument Valley at Yankee Stadium says, he accomplished something extremely unlikely. I will never forget watching it all unfold, then seeing him do it on tv, making me a fan in the process. “I’ll show them,” was his attitude, and he did.

In a world given to unreasonable, personal attacks, bullying, and unbridled invasion of personal privacy for all of us, what a powerful example he set in overcoming all of it that continues to speak to me on so many levels.

Roger Maris 61 in ’61 US postage stamp issued September, 1999.

As I write this on September 29, 2022, Roger Maris is still the co-holder of the American League record, though it might be one of the last days that will be true. Though his “enshrinement” in baseball’s Hall of Fame seems unlikely now, Roger Maris’s accomplishment has long been, and eternally, enshrined in the Hall of Fame of Life, where great feats of intestinal fortitude and incredible perseverance live on to inspire others forever.

Written on my heart…My hand print created with Yankee Stadium dirt on the right field wall where it remained during the final game, September 21, 2008.

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “Home Run” by Joe Nichols from his 2022 album Good Day for Living.

Special thanks to Fluff.

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. https://pophistorydig.com/topics/tag/mickey-mantle-1961

Please Support NighthawkNYC.com

A Message From Kenn Sava…

I started NighthawkNYC.com on July 15, 2015 to bring more attention to Artists, Art & books that I feel more people should know about, and to share my passion for it all with people all over the world. I’m gratified that readership has grown continuously these past 7 years. Frankly, I don’t think being on Instagram has had much to do with it. It seems most people discover the site from web searches researching a specific Artist, book or show. At this point, 7 years in, I’ve written about a lot of Artists. If you look at the list of Categories (by clicking the white box in the upper left corner) you’ll now find 518 names!

I’m proud of that, and proud of the diversity of the Artists, Musicians & Photographers I’ve covered- of every style, race, color, sex & creed from all over the world going back to Jan Van Eyck in the 1400s, and up to Caslon Bevington, an Artist who was about 25 when I first wrote about her (I wrote about her, again this year.).

I GREATLY appreciate every single person who has taken the time to read one of my pieces, and particularly those who have been with me for all or most of the journey. Thank You!

As I mentioned at the end of my 7th Anniversary piece, earlier this year I suffered a devastating financial setback that leaves me having to focus on my survival full-time. Having worked on NighthawkNYC virtually full-time for 7 years, for free, while keeping this site free for all means that, since NOTHING is truly “free” on the internet, ALL the costs of creating and maintaining it have fallen on me.

How much is that?

-Research costs are QUITE substantial. NO ONE gives me books, equipment, or free access to museums, shows that charge admission, etc.
-Website hosting, domains, & security are not cheap, times 7 years.
-And then, figure what your labor would be worth to work at something full-time for a year, then multiply that by 7!

Any way you slice it, the cost is well over $100,000.00 on the low end, and probably closer to the $200,000.00 that it feels like it’s cost me.

Ouch!

I don’t have that to spend any more.

After realizing it, I applied for an Art Writer’s grant from a famous Artist’s Foundation and was turned down because they said I “had a blog.” That was news to me. I’ve never thought of this site that way. My piece on the “new” Whitney Museum took a year to write. My recent 3-part series on Richard Estes took 10 months. I don’t think blogs work that way- do they? I wrote back and asked, “What about my writing? Isn’t that what it’s for?”

Most writers see a show once then write a “this is here now, go see it” piece. I try to do something different. I try to cover it in depth. That means I go to a show multiple times. Just one example- I went to the Robert Rauschenberg: Among Friends at MoMA more than 20 times. Why? I can’t see 100 pieces by a great Artist and “get” them in one visit! I need to “live with the Art.” Going multiple times is the only way I can do that. Just about every show I’ve written about (except Goya at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, in 2015, since I was only there on a day trip), I’ve seen more than once. Usually, at least 5 times. That takes time. It’s rare that one of my pieces takes less than a month to finish. Between the going, the research, the processing of Photos, and the writing, they usually take me 2 to 3 months, and I’m usually working on 3 or 4 of them at the same time, while going to see the show again, or other shows.

I ran Amazon links for three pieces then removed them because I felt like I was selling out. I’ve considered using Patreon. I’ve been told to put up a pay-gate, like other similar sites use…
I want to keep this site accessible to all.

So…

If you’ve learned about an Artist, a show that you weren’t able to travel here to see, a work of Art, a book that has impacted your life, if you find NighthawkNYC worthwhile, or if you want to support Independent Art writing…

Please help keep this site online and ad-free. After all this time and work it would be a shame to see it disappear. My goal is to find a way to make it a permanent resource that will continue to help others, like I hope it’s helped you.
Please help buy the time to find a way to do that.

You can make a secure PayPal Donation here-

Or, you can contact me here for other ways to Donate or help.

My sincerest Thanks, and Thank You! to those who have already.
Have a great night!
Kenn.

NighthawkNYC.com Is Seven! A Year In The Life Of…

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Other ways to support it at the end. Thank you!

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

In honor of its 7th Anniversary, July 15, 2022, I decided to take a look back at Year Seven of NighthawkNYC.com, my most challenging year yet.

Lying in the hospital in November, I seriously doubted I’d be able to continue NighthawkNYC.com and get through Year Seven. Then, things got a bit worse…

During Year 7-
-The galleries that survived (alongside the countless galleries, stores, restaurants and businesses that didn’t) reopened, with restrictions, after the covid shutdown.
-The museums moved closer to full schedules (though not completely), with restrictions.
-Cézanne, Alice Neel, Jennifer Packer, Jasper Johns were each given blockbuster shows. Richard Estes, who like Jasper Johns also turned 90 this past year, was not. I wrote about all of them this year.

Along with this, this past year was a very hard year for me, personally. I hit year 15 free of cancer(!), but dealt with a mysterious illness that I still don’t have an answer for, then suffered a devastating financial setback. In spite of ALL of it, I created & published TWENTY-FIVE full-length pieces in those 52 weeks! 20 of them while I was working on the 3 Richard Estes pieces that took me 11 months to finish.
See for yourself-

Published on NighthawkNYC.com between July 15, 2021 and July 14, 2022, Year Seven, interspersed with personal “highlights” of my year-

August 1, 2021- “The Met’s Alice Need Love Letter To NYC” (Clicking on the title in each white box below opens the piece so you can revisit it.)

The Met’s Alice Neel Love Letter To NYC

August 21- “Don’t Call Chuck Close A ‘Photorealist'”

The last time I saw Chuck Close, I ran into him while we were both out gallery crawling late one Thursday eve in October, 2017, here in a small basement gallery in Chelsea. It was fascinating to watch him study Art he (or I) had never seen before and hear his comments.

Don’t Call Chuck Close A “photorealist”

September 10- “Remembering 9/11”- For the very first time, to commemorate the 20th Anniversary of that that horrific, indelible day, I shared my memories of 9/11 and the Photos I took before, on 9/11, and immediately after.

Just unimaginable. The view from my window shortly after 9:05am on 9/11/2001 showing the North Tower, 1 World Trade Center, on fire. I’ve never shared any of the Photos in this piece before.

Remembering 9/11

On September 15th, I began having spells of lightheadedness. I immediately went to the doctor, who tested me and couldn’t find anything wrong. 

September 21- “Cézanne’s Other Revolution”

The Murder, 1874-75, Pencil, watercolor, and gouache on paper. In this tiny work, the knife is held high amidst an idyllic scene, with an ominous cross lurking above.

Cézanne’s Other Revolution

October 23- “Art Is Back In Chelsea”

Metro Pictures on West 24th Street. I have seen many memorable shows here, including the fine Louise Lawler show that’s up now. They said they decided to close because of the globalization of the Art market, which doesn’t suit their model. I’ll miss it.

Art Is Back In Chelsea

November 7- “Tyler Mitchell: Bringing Joy Back To Art”

Tyler Mitchell

Tyler Mitchell: Bringing Joy Back To Art

At 4:30pm on November 9th, I nearly fainted crossing 8th Avenue. Wearing all black in the dark, I’m sure I would have been killed if the light had changed. I staggered to the other side then managed to get in a cab and go to the Emergency Room. After 10 hours, they decided to admit me. I was in the hospital for 3 days and saw 27 doctors. None could tell me what was wrong. I walked home (about 2 miles) after being released feeling just like I did when I went to the E.R. .

November 19- “John Chamberlain’s Twisted Dreams.” A nurse chastised me for working on this piece while I was in the hospital.

John Chamberlain’s Twisted Dreams

At 4:30pm on November 20th, the day after I published the John Chamberlain piece, I had another near fainting spell. I went back to the Emergency Room where I spent another 7 hours. Again, they couldn’t find a cause. This time I was released and walked home. To this minute, I still don’t know what was wrong. I was subsequently put on medication for a heart problem discovered during testing. The lightheadedness seemed to largely get better. The doctors I informed of this said it didn’t make any medical sense. 

November 27- “NoteWorthy PhotoBooks, 2021”

Zanele Muholi, the catalog for her show at, and published by, the Tate, London.

NoteWorthy PhotoBooks, 2021

December 28- “NoteWorthy Art Books (And Bricks), 2021”

Toyin Ojih Odutola, The UmuEze Amara Clan and the House of Obafemi

NoteWorthy Art Books (and Bricks), 2021

January 14, 2022- “NoteWorthy Music Book, 2021- Paul McCartney: The Lyrics”

From The Lyrics: Throughout the text Sir Paul regularly registers a very wide range of literature. Art is not left out. Left, we see him visiting Willem de Kooning, and right, one of his own Paintings from 1991.

NoteWorthy Music Book, 2021- Paul McCartney: The Lyrics

On January 20th, I suffered a devastating financial loss that leaves me having to focus on my survival full-time. To that point, I had worked on NighthawkNYC full-time for 6 1/2 years for no money, while other costs, besides my labor, have been quite substantial. 

February 4-  “Jasper Johns: Contemporary Art Begins Here”

Jasper Johns, Untitled, 2021, Acrylic and graphic over etching on paper. As strong as ever- at 90!

Jasper Johns: Contemporary Art Begins Here

February 19- “Cancer, +15”  Going in to cancer treatment, I had a 20% chance of getting through year 1 without additional treatment. Hard to believe I’m alive 15 years later…There are no words to express my Thanks. I hope sharing my experiences may help others…

Cancer, +15

February 21- “Jennifer Packer Arrives”

Jennifer Packer @ The Whitney. The word is out. The crowds are beginning to show up. December 28, 2021.

Jennifer Packer Arrives

March 21- “The Sculptural Photography of Vik Muniz”

Vik Muniz with his Nameless (Woman with Turban) after Alberto Henschel, 2020, Archival inkjet print, 90 by 59 inches, One of a kind.

The Sculptural Photography of Vik Muniz

April 4- “Nick Sethi’s PhotoBook Release In Canal Street”

Mind the meter. Nick Sethi takes it to the streets.

Nick Sethi’s PhotoBook Release In Canal Street

April 7- “The Brutal/Smells Like Teen Spirit Mashup” (Olivia Rodrigo meets Kurt Cobain)

Screencap of “Good 4 u,” Directed by Petra Collins.

The Brutal / Smells Like Teen Spirit Mashup

April 14- “Highlights of the Whitney Biennial: Matt Connors”

Matt Connors, One Wants to Insist Very Strongly, 2020

Highlights of the 2022 Whitney Biennial: Matt Connors

April 22- “Caslon Bevington’s Counterfeit Weather”

Caslon Bevington, Frictions (Variations A), 2022, Acrylic on panel, 16 x 20″

Caslon Bevington’s Counterfeit Weather

May 9- “Alec Soth: A Pound of Pictures”

Alec Soth: A Pound of Pictures

May 16- “Ahndraya Parlato: Magic, Mystery, Love & Death”

The cover of Who Is Changed and Who Is Dead

Ahndraya Parlato: Magic, Mystery, Love & Death

May 22- “Richard Estes: Painter. With No Prefixes”

Richard Estes even took over my banner for his 90th. Double Self-Portrait, 1967, from near the beginning of his mature career, seen here behind me.

Richard Estes: Painter. With No Prefixes.

June 6- “Richard Estes Art: What I See”

Richard Estes, Times Square, 2004, This may be the most technically astounding Painting I’ve ever seen, along with any Painting by Jan van Eyck. Having stood on this spot before, during and after 2004, I can certainly verify the overwhelming visual noise that still is Times Square, something that has never been more faithfully realized than it is here.

Richard Estes Art: What I See

June 19- “Richard Estes: Two ‘Manifestos'”

Self-Portrait, 2013

Richard Estes: Two “Manifestos”

June 29- “Learning to Think like David Byrne”

Learning To Think Like David Byrne

July 11- “Thank You, Sheena Wagstaff” I’ll miss the recently departed Chair of The Met’s Modern & Contemporary Department. I close out Year Seven of NHNYC with a look at what she’s given me, NYC, and the world this past decade.

Sheena Wagstaff looking at a very large work by Ursula von Rydingsvard at Galerie Lelong & Co., April, 2018, when I happened upon her when we were both making the rounds of galleries one afternoon (independently, of course).

Thank You, Sheena Wagstaff

P H E W!
I can’t begin to tell you how much work all of that was. Oh, and I got through it all, and spent all of the year, alone. Every minute of it for the second year in a row. Trust me. You don’t want to try it.

On July 15, 2015, I started this site to share my passion for Art and what I’ve seen in the NYC Art world with those everywhere else. In the past 7 years, I’ve published about 275 full-length pieces- 275 in 364 weeks! I have created everything you see on this site for free, and it’s been FREE to access for all!

Well, sooner or later something had to give. Nothing is truly “free” on the internet, though. It means that all the expenses incurred in creating, running  and maintaining NighthawkNYC.com have fallen on me. For the past 7 years, I’ve managed to keep this site ad-free. To defray some of the high costs, I experimented with Amazon links for 3 pieces, then abandoned them. I’ve considered using Patreon, I’ve been told I should put up a pay-gate like other similar sites use.

I’ve decided that first, I should see how much support there is for what I’ve been doing.

If you like what I’ve been doing, if you find this site useful, if you’ve discovered an Artist you previously didn’t know and now are interested in, or a book you’ve taken to, or you want to support Independent Art writing- your support has never been needed more than it is right now. THIS is the time to help.

Donate to keep it up & ad-free below. Thank you!

As always- Thank You for reading my pieces.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “New York Minute” by Don Henley from The End of the Innocence, 1989 performed here by Eagles, unplugged in 1994-

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

For L.

Seven Years of NighthawkNYC Banners

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!

by Kenn Sava.

href=”https://nighthawknyc.com/2022/07/16/nighthawknyc-com-is-seven-a-year-in-the-life-of/” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>here, I decided to take a selected look back at what you saw when you looked above what I’ve written here since July 15, 2015: the Banners I’ve run from Day 1.
Speaking of Day 1, July 15, 2015…Remember this?

Banner #1. July 15, 2015. Location- Somewhere Downtown, late. My adaptation of Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, 1942, into a “Self-Portrait,” as I said, here. My piece on decades of looking for the site of the REAL Nighthawks, one of my most popular pieces ever, is here.

Banner #2 – NighthawkNYC Version 2.0 in honor of the First Anniversary, July 15, 2016, I decided to create my own version.

Banner #40b – My working file since July, 2016. The blue lines are the ghosts of all the layers that have been added to this image the past six years! As seen below…

Banner #3. Night flowers.

Banner #4 – Outside Ai Weiwei’s powerful show Laundromat on the Refugee Crisis

Banner #5 – Chelsea, February, 2017. Seeing this reminded me of my boxed-in upbringing, as I wrote in my 10th Anniversary of Cancer treatment piece. This space is now the Hauser & Wirth mega-gallery.

Banner #6 – The High Line, March, 2017. January, February and early March are the only times I’ll hit the High Line, which is too crowded the rest of the year. I’ve still never been to Hudson Yards (15 blocks behind me here). By choice.

Banner #7 – The Strand Bookstore, minutes after closing, December, 2017, back when it closed at 10:30pm every night. Not at 8pm as it does now!

Banner #8 – Madison Square, January, 2018

Banner #8 – Unpublished experiment featuring my dear friends, the Birdies from my “On The Fence” series, seen on their infamous perch on West 24th Street.

Banner #11 – The Entrance to Michelangelo at The Met, February, 2018. Behind the transparent screen is the faux scaffolding for the Sistine Ceiling section.

Banner #18 – Hell’s Kitchen, March, 2018

Banner #21 – 7th Avenue, April, 2018. A sort of “nighthawks” at the all-night coffee house…

Banner #23 – 18th Street, May, 2018

Banner #11 – The steam pipe explosion on 5th Avenue. Looking uptown from 5th Avenue and 18th Street to the Empire State Building as repairs to the surrounding buildings damaged by  the explosion continues, July 26, 2018.

Banner #22 – Meatpacking District, September, 2018,

Banner #25 – Live on the D Train, November, 2018

Banner #32 – March, 2019, West 19th Street. My banner as it was before everything hit the fan. I ran this one longer than any other so far.

Banner #32a – March 22, 2020. The covid shutdown is a week old. I’m home, like everyone else.

Banner #32b – July 20, 2020. NighthawkNYC.com is 5 years old! Restaurants & cafes are allowed to open for take out and delivery orders, only.

Banner #34 – Unpublished experiment in response to everything being boarded up here. It showed a lack of trust in the community, their customers, which angered me when I was living with all of it, so I made it as a joke and didn’t run it.

May 3, 2021 – The vaccine has kicked in and I’ve returned after a year away from the banner. At least to Eddie’s Cafe. I had yet to go inside any other restaurant.

Banner 32c – NighthawkNYC.com is 6! July, 2021. Twyla’s quote still fits.

Banner #26 – With Richard Estes Double Self-Portrait, May, 2022.

Banner #27 – Parking Eddie’s Cafe in the middle of 6th Avenue in the Flatiron facing south, June, 2022, One World Trade Center next to my left ear.

If you had told me at a number of points this past year, I’d be hanging a “7 Years” Banner, I’d have seriously doubted it!

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “I Contain Multitudes,” by Bob Dylan from Rough and Rowdy Ways, 2020.

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

The Brutal / Smells Like Teen Spirit Mashup

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.

I’ll never forget the first time I heard Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in full effect. I was with a date on the (uncharacteristically) not-packed-for-a-moment dance floor of the legendary NYC club, Area, in 1991 when its opening guitar chords were suddenly overwhelmed by Dave Grohl’s drums bringing the band in hit us like howitzer shells exploding from the speakers over our heads. I’d heard it before, but under this mega-system, it literally lifted me out of my skin.

Screencap of the opening scene of the “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” Music video, 1991, Directed by Samuel Bayer, includes cheerleader with pom poms in a school gym.

“Hello, hello, hello, how low”*

Though Nirvana had been making great Music on record since their debut Lp, Bleach, in 1989, that was the opening “Hello” of the biggest movement in Rock since Punk. It exploded countless millions of times everywhere on planet earth that year, and Rock was never the same after…

The Music video, also appearing in heavy rotation, was a work of Art every bit on the level with the song, and just as revolutionary, paving the way for “Grunge,” Music & fashion. Recently, Nirvana dummer, now Foo Fighters leader, Dave Grohl, credited the video with having a bigger impact than the record1. The video adds a bit of another dimension to the lyrics and helps center them.

Besides love & sex, Rock has been about nothing if not teen angst, anxiety, feelings of inadequacy, and depression, alongside a yearning to rebel or break free, these past 70 years. “Teen Spirit” felt like the ultimate Musical expression of teen angst.

“I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us”*

In 1994, Kurt told Rolling Stone that he was “trying to write the ultimate pop song,” saying he was strongly influenced by the Pixies in writing “Teen Spirit2.”  On more than one level, he succeeded, in my opinion. On other levels, like everything else involving Kurt Cobain, it’s pretty complicated. “Pop” Music is supposed to be light and disposable, “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” who’s title may a possible reference to a popular woman’s deodorant of the time that a one time Kurt girlfriend may have worn3, is anything but. For some, it was a call for a revolution- a rejection of what had become staid, overly processed and boring- in Music and beyond, and one that certainly happened in Rock Music and fashion over the rest of the decade in its wake.

I only got this ticket thanks to a friend who worked at Geffen, the band’s label. Enduring thanks, that is!

When I saw Nirvana in what turned out to be their final NYC show at Roseland on July 23, 1993, they didn’t play it, by far their biggest hit, during their set, unheard of for just about any other band. I found out later that Kurt was growing tired of playing it, and the expectation that they would play it. They played it as the encore, to the relief of everyone in the sold out house. I grew up playing in garage bands, and Nirvana was certainly the ultimate garage band. Seeing them was not just about their raw power. The nuance of their performance and the power of their lyrics took them to an entirely other level, one that very few bands have ever matched. Of the thousands of shows I’ve seen in my life, I count myself extremely lucky to have seen them that night.

Fast forward 30 years from 1991…to 2021. I couldn’t help having much of the same reaction watching another remarkable Music video- that for Olivia Rodrigo’s “Brutal,” directed by the ground-breaking Photographer Petra Collins, even though I’m far from my teenage years, and not female. Though so much has changed in those intervening 30 years since “Teen Spirit”, the things young people go through and how they feel about them, hasn’t changed at all. If anything, it’s only gotten more complicated. 

As I thought about it, I couldn’t escape thinking about the parallels between both songs, and their videos, on a number of levels.

First, some basic stats-
Kurt Cobain, B. 2/20/1967 (D. 4/5/1994- 8 months after I saw Nirvana at Roseland). “Teen Spirit” released in 1991, when Kurt was about 24.
Olivia Rodrigo, B. 2/20/2003. “Brutal” released in May, 2021, when Olivia was 17 or 18.

Breaking out! Screencap from the 8 1/2-ish final scene of “Brutal.” I can’t help wondering if the ballet dancers are autobiographical on the part of Director Petra Collins, who started out to be a ballet dancer.

“They say these are the golden years
But I wish I could disappear
Ego crush is so severe
God, it’s brutal out here.”^

“Brutal” begins with a video game player selection screen over a repeated power synth line that could have been straight out of a 1990s video game, that in some ways is a 2021 equivalent of Kurt’s immortal opening power guitar riff on “Teen Spirit,” and serves much the same purpose. The scenes quickly change from showing her insecurities in ballet class and collapsing to the floor grabbing her ankle4, to a pseudo news broadcast, before taking us to a school classroom and corridor. Both songs feature the soft/loud dynamic, that Kurt Cobain said he took from The Pixies, to aural, lyric and visual dramatic effect. The whole things ends up on a freeway parking lot and a pretty cool “homage” to the beginning of Fellini’s 8 1/2 that ends the “Brutal” video! We see Olivia “breaking out” by getting out of her car and walking over the cars in front of her, a bit like 8 1/2′s hero who flies above the parked traffic in front of him in that classic opening scene that announces a masterpiece to follow. Nirvana’s video famously takes place in a gym auditorium, and features cheerleaders in pleated skirts with pom poms. In “Brutal,” Olvia wears a pleated plaid skirt for much of it. Then, in the video for “Good 4 u,” which is also Directed by Petra Collins, she wears a full cheerleader’s outfit and much of it takes place in a school gym!

Screencap of “Good 4 u,’ also Directed by Petra Collins in 2021. A cheerleader’s outfit in a school gym and pom poms…Hmmm….

Kirt Cobain, Nirvana, and Frederico Fellini? Pretty heady company for any 17 or 18 year old.

Then, I took a closer at the lyrics to both songs. I decided to mash them up. The results are below.

“Brutal,” by Olivia Rodrigo & “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Kurt Cobain/Nirvana
A Mashup By Kenn Sava

“Smells Like Teen Spirit” on this margin-

“Brutal” on this margin-

[Chorus]
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us

[Verse 1]
I’m so insecure, I think
That I’ll die before I drink

[Verse 2]
I’m worse at what I do best
And for this gift, I feel blessed

And I’m so caught up in the news
Of who likes me and who hates you
And I’m so tired that I might
Quit my job, start a new life
And they’d all be so disappointed
‘Cause who am I if not exploited?

And I’m so sick of seventeen
Where’s my fucking teenage dream?

If someone tells me one more time
“Enjoy your youth,” I’m gonna cry

[Pre-Chorus]
Hello, hello, hello, how low
Hello, hello, hello, how low
Hello, hello, hello, how low
Hello, hello, hello

[Chorus]
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us

And I don’t stick up for myself
I’m anxious, and nothing can help
And I wish I’d done this before
And I wish people liked me more

[Chorus]

I’m worse at what I do best
And for this gift, I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end

All I did was try my best
This the kinda thanks I get?
Unrelentlessly upset (Ah-ah-ah)
They say these are the golden years
But I wish I could disappear
Ego crush is so severe
God, it’s brutal out here

[Outro]
A denial, a denial
A denial, a denial
A denial, a denial
A denial, a denial
A denial

And lately, I’m a nervous wreck
‘Cause I love people I don’t like
And I hate every song I write
And I’m not cool, and I’m not smart
And I can’t even parallel park

“Got a broken ego, broken heart
And God, I don’t even know where to start”^

*- Soundtracks for this Post are *”Smells Like Teen Spirit,” by Kurt Cobain from Nevermind by Nirvana and ^”Brutal,” by Olivia Rodrigo from the album Sour.

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. Here.
  2. Here.
  3. https://genius.com/Nirvana-smells-like-teen-spirit-lyrics
  4. Interestingly, Director Petra Collins started out to be a ballet dancer before an injury led her to go into Photography.

Cancer, +15

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.

I simply can’t let this February end without pausing to give Thanks. 15 years ago, in February, 2007, I was treated for cancer by the brilliant Dr. David Samadi and his team at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital.

He, and they, saved my life.

After diagnosis, I had five opinions as to what I should do. One doctor told me I had a 20% chance of getting through year 1 without needing additional treatment. I am now in Year 15 WITHOUT additional treatment! Suffice it to say I’m so lucky to be here. That thought follows me every single second of my life. 

There are no words worthy of the thanks & gratitude I feel to everyone involved in my treatment. What could possibly say “thank you” for BEING ALIVE?

As a writer, the only way I can begin to pay it back, I felt, was to put my experiences down on digital paper and publish them here in the hope that other newly diagnosed patients might find something of value to them in my experiences, or at least know that they aren’t alone. Unfortunately, so many have been down this road, and too many have died along it, that almost everyone knows someone for who’s been a cancer patient, and so most of our lives have been touched by it.

After surgery, I awoke slowly in the recovery room, where I would eventually lay for an hour and a half before anyone came over to me. As I recount in my piece, when I began to open my eyes, I saw something that looked like this doorway I shot in February, 2010. In my piece I ran the original version of this picture. The new version is much closer to how it really looked. The experience left me wondering if I was still alive. Part of me has lived that way since.

Since getting my life back on track, I decided to share my love & passion for Art here, for free, since 2015. In February, 2017, on the 10th Anniversary of my life being saved, I wrote about my entire experience with cancer- before, during & after, including the mistakes I made, in a piece called “Cancer Saved My Life,” which may be read here. In 2018, I interviewed Iranian Photographer, and fellow cancer patient- now cancer survivor, Shazhrzad Darafsheh in a piece here.

These past two years, in particular, have been very hard on everyone. I’ve spent them in virtual seclusion (minus 8 hours). I just dealt with a mysterious illness (not related to cancer or covid, as far as I know) that hospitalized me, sent me to the ER twice, and left me with another condition still to be addressed. I’m sure everyone has their covid difficulties stories. But no mind, I give thanks for every blessing I have, and thanks the first thing when I wake each morning. That’s IF I’m actually still alive.

I also remain thankful for every single person who’s taken the time to read these pieces. The support I’ve received & the friendships I’ve made because of NighthawkNYC are the reasons I’ve continued it.

A support bracket I made in late 2006.

This Post is dedicated to all those, and all those I know, who are my fellow cancer patients and cancer survivors. Sharing experiences helped me survive. I only hope mine may be of help to someone else. 

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes,” by Elvis Costello from My Aim Is True, 1977. Genius.com does a good job of explaining why I chose it. 

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

A Year Without Art

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.

Part 1- A Hush All Over The World

Last call. Hudson River, 7:30pm, May 30, 2020. Immediately after I took this I had to hurry home to be off the streets before the 8pm curfew, the first time in my life I’ve lived under a curfew, let alone one during a pandemic. The scene, with the light going out, fits the reality of life at that moment.

It was exactly a year since I was able to see Art when I left The Met Breuer on March 8, 2020, for what turned out to be its last day ever, with the NYC covid shutdown commencing the following day, It was longer than I thought it would be that day, but much shorter than I thought it would be when we were in the heart of the shutdown with the City being the epicenter of one of the worst outbreaks of the virus to that point a few months later. Over 32,000 have died from covid in NYC alone as I write this. I count myself lucky not to be one.

Galleries on West 19th Street, June 4, 2020.

Since I started regularly going to see Art in 1980, this was the longest I hadn’t been able to do so in person.

Someone posted this captioned photo on a window of the shuttered Park Restaurant that summed up one aspect of life in NYC in the pandemic. Here I need to clear something up. In April, 2020, I posted a slideshow of a “deserted” NYC. Yes, the streets were empty- day and night. But that was largely because everyone was staying home- as they should have, and only going out for essential errands.

During that time, a time I spent entirely alone (450+ days, and counting), Art & PhotoBooks were my friends and family. They enabled me to keep seeing & exploring Art & Photography, and actually continue to discover Artists & Photographers. Of course, during the shutdown, the only way I could see books were in my library or by USPS delivery. 

I must digress here. 

The shadows half engulf the embattled  West 18th Street Post Office, May 29, 2020, during the height of the pandemic in NYC and during the height of the discussion about cutting the funding of the USPS. Yet, through it all, Manager Miss Lloyd and staff showed up almost every day and persevered throughout enabling people like me to get potentially life-saving supplies.

My debt to the Post Office goes much deeper. In a pandemic everything quickly disappears from store shelves. All I had was a bandana until the USPS was able to deliver some masks to me in July. Isopropyl Alcohol took a while longer to find, and I finally found some in a store after months of looking.

The new normal. The line for Trader Joe’s extends hundreds of feet down the street to the left and 100 feet in front. April 5, 2021.

Through it all, the staff at Trader Joe’s were positively heroic in keeping this community going, only closing for a couple days here and there when a team member got sick for extra cleaning. Completely uncharted ground for them, they quickly emerged as a role model business in terms of how they adapted and carried on, modifying and inventing procedures to keep their team and the public safe. 

ALL of these heroic essential workers deserve our highest thanks and gratitude. If and when this ends, there should be a parade for them down the Canyon of Heroes.

I don’t know what to say about the countless medical professionals who hung in there during the worst of times, especially those who treated me right in the middle of it for a non-covid related condition, and particularly those who lost their lives trying to help and save others. The tragic story of Dr. Lorna Breen, who worked for the hospital that saved my life in February, 2007, broke my heart when I heard about it. “It’s OK Not To Be OK” were words I took seriously. They are wise- to a point.

Only you can judge if you need real, professional, help, or not, when you are locked down, or overwhelmed, as Dr. Breen apparently was. As a victim of suicide, I can’t stress enough that while it is “OK Not To Be OK” for a while, if you continue to not be OK, reach out and get help- by phone, online, or in person. 

Outdoor dining in the middle of winter in a structure built right IN West 17th Street. February 20,2021. Yes, that structure, and many others, was built right in the street! I admire the creativity restaurants showed in staying open once they were allowed to, though it seemed too unsafe for me. Their creative mindset is an example for other businesses struggling to survive the pandemic.

Many of them did not. In April, the legendary Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop, 174 Fiffh Avenue, closed after 92 years. I doubt the space was ever remodeled in that time allowing you to walk into the past anytime you went in. It was one of Anthony Bourdain Top Restaurants (#11) in NYC, and one of mine. Every time a place like this closes a part of NYC goes with it, probably never to be replaced. While, many high end galleries got SMA loans, which continues to mystify me, most small businesses did not.

Spending so much time on my own, what did I do besides read Art & PhotoBooks? I took pictures every single day, during excursions I timed when almost no one would be out. I did no writing, but a lot of thinking. I dipped my toe into the ocean of Instagram, though I am no fan of monopolistic social media as it is. It was a VERY strange feeling walking around without a list of Art shows to go see in my pocket. What to do? I just wandered aimlessly, and sure enough, I saw something new, surprising or shocking, which takes a lot after 30 years of living here.

Other than that, I have been silent. Still, much to my surprise, readership continues to climb, which I try to not think means that people like the site better without me, and I continue to hear from readers all over the world. As always, Thank You for reading my pieces. I hope this finds you & yours well where it finds you. 

Coming Attractions? This window on a shuttered multiplex movie theater usually features posters of what’s playing or coming. Now it serves to make me wonder what the future holds. February, 2021.

I’m a different man than I was when I left The Met Breuer on March 8, 2020. I had NO idea what I, NYC, or the world was in for in the coming weeks and months. Much still remains unknown. I’ve survived the worst of the covid pandemic in NYC (knocking hard on wood). Along the way, I’ve survived a number of unrelated crisis that were made exponentially more difficult because everything was closed here. Yet, I got through all of them with no help from anyone, except those mentioned above.

A covid testing facility in the Flatiron after hours.

As the vaccine took effect, I turned my sights to going to see Art, again. Yet, I say that with a certain amount of guilt. There are too many, many, many people in this country and around the world without access to the vaccine! And, there’s little to no information as to when they might get it. The pandemic has been horribly managed virtually everywhere in the world. If the distribution of the vaccine continues to be as badly managed, any recovery will also be delayed. At the cost of how many more lives?

A woman about to be vaccinated. The Javitz Convention Center has been put to good public use since covid hit. First as a US Army Temporary Hospital last year, and now as a mass vax site. I was vaccinated here twice, the first time I’d set foot in the place since it opened in 1986. If you’re on the fence about getting it? For the record I had absolutely NO SIDE EFFECTS either time. None. Zero. Not even a sore arm. Two weeks after Pfizer shot #2 it was fully effective I was told by the Registered Nurse who gave it to me.

And, I’ve yet to hear anyone mention something else very important- It’s almost MIRACULOUS that a covid vaccine has been developed in a year!

Look at the history of pandemics and scourges. 2021 marks FORTY years since the CDC first officially reported what would be called AIDS, there is STILL no HIV vaccine! William Shakespeare lived his entire life under the threat of the plague, which devastated London no less than 3 times during his lifetime. The plague was a scourge that lasted from 1350 to well into the 1800s! So, WE ARE INCREDIBLY LUCKY a vaccine was found so quickly. I shutter to think what 1, 2, 3 more years without a vaccine would have looked like.

Why I digressed…

Art, unless you make it yourself, is a luxury, “important” only once the main necessities of life and well-being have been covered. As I ventured back to see Art I had everything I’ve said thus far, and everything I’ve been through this past year, on my mind. 

Part 2- Temperature Check

The Met’s famous main entrance, gated, during the 5 months it was closed, unprecedented in my lifetime, May 21, 2020.

Going to The Met or MoMA now (April, 2021) is a very, very strange experience.

MoMA, Main Lobby Entrance, April 29, 2021. Even 5 minutes before closing I NEVER saw it like this. This is usually crowded with people and staff. It’s daytime! Note the sun streaming in from the famous Sculpture Garden directly behind me.

They were both almost entirely empty on weekdays when I’ve been there. In some ways, it’s a dream for me. I can have almost any gallery I want completely to myself.

The Met’s Roofdeck, April 22, 2021. Looking around, I felt that perhaps I wasn’t supposed to be here? But, there is a guard way off on the left.

The only exceptions were The Met’s dual blockbuster shows- Goya’s Graphic Imagination and Alice Neel: People Come First. The times I went I waited 15 minutes to get in to each show.

April 22, 2021. This terrific show opened in early February, when virtually no one had been vaccinated and closed on May 2nd as more were just beginning to be. Very unfortunate timing for a great and timely show of work too rarely seen in this depth & breath due to their fragility.

On subsequent visits I asked people in the front of the line how long they waited and they also responded 15 minutes. The lines are due to The Met’s safety procedures and not letting the galleries get too crowded so visitors can maintain distance. Once inside, I thought they were “comfortably” occupied with ample distance. The lines are interesting because the Goya show was about to end on May 2nd, which generally would cause lines to get in, pre-pandemic, but the Alice Neel show had only opened on March 22nd. That means expect longer lines to see it as the summer progresses. Both shows will live on and continue to be discussed. I am disappointed The Met did not extend the Goya show, or schedule it to open later in the year, so more people could see it as more are vaccinated. Alice Neel: People Come First is a landmark show, perhaps the most important Painting show in NYC since Kerry James Marshall: Mastry because it demonstrates how contemporary Alice Neel remains- as a woman, an Artist/mother and as a thinker and activist. Her position in the canon of great Artists of the 20th century had been established by the regular shows her work has increasingly received over time, including the Whitney Retrospective on the centennial of her birth in 2000, and most recently, Alice Neel, Uptown at Zwirner in 2017, which I covered. 

The boarded up Hauser & Wirth Gallery, an SMA Loan grantee, on West 22nd Street behind Joseph Beuys columnar basalt stone, June 4, 2020. Public Art, like the Beuys seen here, was not boarded up.

Elsewhere around town, most galleries seem to be open for business, those that are left that is, each with their own terms. The carnage that has devastated small business has not spared the smaller galleries. A walk down West 26th Street showed that perhaps 50% of galleries are gone (It could be higher since some entire multi floor buildings were devoted to galleries and I have not gone into them to do a headcount). Among the survivors, some will let you right in. Some with an appointment only. Some are requiring info for contact tracing and/or temperature checks, all are requiring masks and distancing. That’s from reading signs on the doors as I walk past. I’ve only been to a few gallery shows. From the email I get, the number of shows is drastically lower than it was. It should be said that the summer is always slow(er) here so perhaps galleries are getting ready to be more active post-Labor Day. I also haven’t been able to get a sense of Art world employment and the current status of the many who were laid off or furloughed during the shutdown. 

Never say Never is just one lesson of 2020.

As for the Art market, I have noticed some softening in asking prices around town, though of course that depends on who and what we’re talking about1. Is this a buying op, or a harbinger of a long overdue market correction? It’s still very early in the recovery (if it is the recovery), and a bit hard to tell where things are heading,

11th Avenue, April 8, 2021.

It seems to me that most of it will depend on how quickly more people get vaccinated everywhere around the world so the world as a whole can begin to recover. Art is global, made & traded virtually everywhere, but that’s only one instance of how interconnected everyone and everything is. As poorly as the covid crisis has been handled everywhere much now depends on how well the global vaccine distribution is handled. The pandemic will only end as quickly as the vaccines can reach those who need it. Only then can the world truly begin to heal and a real recovery begin.

And we can can get back to exploring Art.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Spring Is Here,” composed by Richard Rogers & Lorenz Hart and recorded by Frank Sinatra on his immortal Sings For Only The Lonely, 1958. Rogers & Hart are among the very greatest songwriters of all time in my opinion and Lorenz Hart’s lyrics remain extremely under appreciated. Heard here in a gorgeous 2018 stereo mix where you can fully appreciate the brilliant arrangement by Nelson Riddle-

“Once there was a thing called spring
When the world was writing verses like yours and mine
All the lads and girls would sing
When we sat at little tables and drank May wine
Now April, May and June are sadly out of tune
Life has stuck a pin in the balloon
Spring is here! Why doesn’t my heart go dancing?”

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. The auction market seems to still be as strong as ever. Auctions are primarily resales of Art, whereas many galleries are selling new Art.

Back. In Black

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If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing.
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by Kenn Sava.

A brief look back at 2 years of NighthawkNYC.com banners to mark my return to them today after a year away…

March, 2019. My banner as it was before everything hit the fan.

 

March 22, 2020. The covid shutdown is a week old. I’m home.

 

July 20, 2020. NighthawkNYC.com is 5 years old! Restaurants & cafes are allowed to open for take out and delivery orders, only.

 

May 3, 2021. The vaccine has kicked in and I’ve returned after a year away from the banner. At least to Eddie’s Cafe. I have yet to go inside any other restaurant.

What a long, strange, trip it’s been…

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 Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.