Artists

Henry Taylor: The Art of Empathy

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

Show seen: Henry Taylor: B Side @ the Whitney Museum

See Alice Jump, 2021, Acrylic on canvas, as are all the Paintings in this piece, unless specified. From the wall card- “The track-and-field legend Alice Coachman, depicted here, set a record in the high jump at the 1948 London games, becoming the first Black woman to win an Olympic gold medal. By altering the photo and positioning Coachman as if she is jumping over houses in a neighborhood, Taylor metaphorically alludes to the social and economic barriers she overcame growing up in the segregated South.” The pictures in this piece are thumbnails. Click any picture for full size.

I’ve had my eye on Henry Taylor since I reported that he was “Having a New York Moment,” as I called it in 2017 when he received the High Line Mural Commission simultaneously with being one of the “stars” of the 2016 Whitney Biennial. Okay, both eyes. The Artist returned to NYC in 2019 for a solo show at Blum & Poe, at which I met him.

Henry Taylor modifying/ammending his wall-sized Mural with my Sharpie at Blum & Poe, September 24, 2019.

I lent him my Sharpie which he proceeded to use to modify the large Mural that was the centerpiece of his show as I watched with my mouth open. I then followed him to the terrace where he inscribed his outdoor installation with it. I’d never seen an Artist modify a work (or two) hanging in a show in my 40+ years of show-going before.

Needless to say meeting Mr. Taylor that night was an extraordinary experience made unforgettable by his being quite nice to me, and I don’t think it had to do with the pen. I came away feeling Henry Taylor is one very hard not-to-like man. I wondered if that might have been born in the fact that Henry Taylor is a “30-years in the making overnight sensation.” All this being said, everything I express about his Art here I felt before I met Mr. Taylor. Almost exactly four years to the day later, Mr. Taylor’s Art returned to NYC in Henry Taylor: B Side at the Whitney, his mid-career Retrospective, which only expanded my appreciation of the depth of his accomplishment and filled in the gaps.

Gettin it Done, 2016, at the show’s entrance.

B Side is the most powerful Painting show I’ve seen since Kerry James Marshall: Mastry at the lost and lamented Met Breuer in 2017.

Now, or never! 4:30pm, January 28, 2024. One and one-half hours before Henry Taylor: B Side closed for the last time. Installation view of one of the two, large parallel galleries I mention further below. The other is behind the wall to the left.

This is remarkable because Henry Taylor was so late in getting his Art career started.

Hammons meets a hyena on holiday, 2016. Henry Taylor is a student of Art history and an entire gallery was devoted to works inspired by the work of other Artists. Here, he riffs on Dawoud Bey’s famous Photo of David Hammons selling snow balls one winter day from 1983.

The first thing that might catch a viewer’s eye is his palette. On a number of occasions his colors caught my eye from hundreds of feet away across large rooms. For that reason alone, a full Retrospective of his work over 6 galleries of the Whitney Museum’s 5th floor this winter, was a thing of beauty.

Untitled, 2021, Acrylic on linen. In fitting with the show’s title, here the Artist “covers” a Painting he saw in London’s National Portrait Gallery of King Henry V. This could be a play on his nickname- “Henry the VIII,” being the youngest of 8.

But life is not full of blue skies, roses, or bowls of cherries, and neither is Henry Taylor’s Art. There’s much, much more to be seen in his work. As enchanting as his palette is, it’s the depth of his content and his unique way of presenting it that sets his Art apart.

Untitled, 2022. A Portrait of the Artist’s brother, Randy, a former Black Panther (with a large one looming behind him) and now a dog breeder in Texas, depicted looking like he’s about to give a speech as he did in those earlier days.

That content speaks to a very wide range of subjects. Perhaps, most well-known for his Portraits, which as Antwaun Sargent points out, differ from the work of Kerry James Marshall in his preference for “the outcast,” as he calls them1. This is fitting for a show titled B Side, which is a reference to the other side of a single 45rpm record. The B Side of a hit 45 was almost always something overlooked and rarely played, except by devoted fans. It can also be a collection of lesser known or cover songs (like the album B-Sides, by Oasis). Both seem to fit the show. Yet, along with outcasts, B Side contains numerous Portraits of icons- political, Musical, and athletic. Throughout, it seems to me Henry Taylor Paints his subjects from the inside, out. Something quite remarkable. My impression is that he does it through empathy; from connecting and relating to the person he’s depicting in some way- even if he’s never met them, as in the Portrait of Alice Coachman up top. As good as his Art is, in the end, empathy might be what separates Henry Taylor.

Too Sweet, 2016. This extraordinary Portrait is based on a Photo the Artist took from inside his car as this man approached seeking help from passing motorists. A whopping 132 x 72 inches, its monumentality is furthered by viewing the figure from below. It’s also an example of the Artist selectively blurring facial details, in this case his eyes, which occurs off and on in the show, and which I find endlessly fascinating. I wasn’t a bit surprised to find out that MoMA has acquired it.

B Side complements his Portraits with a wide range of scenes from everyday life, with the specter of racism, and its impact, hovering as the omnipresent horror it is and has been, never far away. Of course, Mr. Taylor is well-acquainted with the reality of racism. Some of his Paintings on the subject of his grandfather hint that his 1933 murder in East Texas may be a continuing influence, as could well be expected. In fact, this was the subject of the large Mural, Ancestors of Genghis Khan with Black Man on Horse, 2015-17, which graced one of the lobbies of the 2017 Whitney Biennial, as I showed here.

Resting, 2011, Acrylic and collage on canvas. Taylor depicts his niece and nephew sitting on a couch at home with a reclining figure behind them. Further back is a Corrections Corporation of America truck, a line of uniformed men, and a wall with “WARNING SHOTS NOT REQUIRED” stenciled on it. Before the couple are Canteen Correctional Services forms for family members to authorize items prisoners can purchase at the commissary.

Most often, but not entirely, his subjects are Black, and with the body of work he has created over the past 30 years, Mr. Taylor has emerged as “one of the most powerful and poignant observers on what it means to be Black in America working today1.”

Wegrett, 2006, Acrylic and cardboard collage on linen. One of the most unique Portraits of an Artist with his mother in Art. The collaged cardboard seems to read “WE REGRET.” The wall card says- “Here, the words may allude to the pain he feels about the hardships his mother faced in her life. As Taylor explained, ‘I painted a picture of myself on my knees in front of my mama, and I don’t know why I painted that, but I just did, and I know I cried on that.'”

To complement his range, the show has been arranged by theme. As a result, B Side is a bit like a story with chapters; beginning with family, moving to his early creative days, and then to the subjects that hold his attention as a mature Artist. His current level of success doesn’t seem to have changed him or his Art one iota. Everything he’s done has that feeling of having been cut from the same cloth.

Untitled, 2016–22. Dr. Martin Luther King plays football with some kids while 3 ominous figures watch from the rear.

The first two galleries are devoted to Portraits, with an emphasis on his immediate and extended family, and some Self-Portraits. It’s hard to think of another Artist who has Painted his extended family so often and so strikingly (as in Untitled, 2022, shown earlier, of his brother, Randy- one example). Throughout B Side, I was fascinated by the Artist’s choices in creating his Portraits. Specifically, his choices of when and which facial details to include (as in Untitled, 2016–22, above, and Too Sweet, 2016, earlier). Are these done to cause the viewer to look elsewhere besides the face, or to make them look closer? This is a bit reminiscent of what Edward Hopper did on occasion, as in his Room in New York, 1932, as I discussed here.

First work. A collection of Henry Taylor’s Portrait Drawings of patients he worked with at Camarillo State Hospital, 1985-95, Graphite on paper. One is Pastel, colored pencil and ink on paper. These date from during his time as a student at Oxnard Community College and then the California Institute of the Arts (aka CalArts).

The third gallery took the viewer back to Henry’s beginnings as an Artist. Born in 1958, he spent the decade from 1984 to 1994 working as a psychiatric technician at Camarillo State Mental Hospital, Camarillo, CA.3. During this time, he created his earliest known work, Drawing and Painting a number of the patients he worked with: adults living with developmental disabilities or mental illness as well as those seeking treatment for substance use disorders, developing close relationships. 

“I learned not to dismiss anybody,” he recalls. “It just made me a little more patient, a little more empathetic. It taught me to embrace a lot of things. A lot of people will avoid a person who doesn’t appear normal, but I’m not like that.” Henry Taylor, in a must-read 2016 interview, here.

Untitled 1992. One of the earliest Paintings in the show. When B Side opened in October, I was buried in my piece on Van Gogh’s Cypresses which I published in November. Cypresses mostly takes place when Vincent was a patient in an insane asylum. Therefore, it was impossible for me not to make a connection between Henry’s experiences and Vincent’s. When I first saw this Painting, I was immediately reminded of Photos of the bath tubs Vincent was assigned to for therapeutic treatment in the San Remy Asylum almost exactly a century earlier.

For the last half of that decade as a psych tech, he was also a student at CalArts where he was at least a decade older than his fellow students, graduating in 1995 (among numerous others, Ed Ruscha was a 1961 graduate). Henry began his Art career at 37. After struggling to find representation and recognition, the world has gradually caught up with him to the point that 30 years on, he’s now one of our more influential and respected Artists, with a blockbuster Retrospective that appeared at the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), L.A. before moving to the Whitney.

Screaming Head, 1999, Oil on canvas. Just wow.

Working with his patients turned out to have a decisive impact that would continue in everything he’s done. Early on in his career after graduating, Paintings, like this one, continued to speak to his Camarillo experiences. 

From there the visitor emerged into two large parallel galleries that lie at the center and heart of the show largely focused on being Black in America. The first one ranges from a 4th of July cookout to incarceration to the show-stopping THE TIMES THAY AIN’T A CHANGING FAST ENOUGH, 2017, depicting the murder of Philandro Castile. On the other side of the wall, the other large gallery features Paintings related to the Black Panthers and a large installation recreating a Black Panther speech with appropriately attired mannequins.

THE TIMES THAY AIN’T A CHANGING FAST ENOUGH, 2017. Per the wall card- “Taylor has said that he was motivated to paint this scene immediately upon learning about it- ‘I don’t even think I thought about ever showing that one when I painted it; it was just something I had to get out of my head.'”

THE TIMES THAY AIN’T A CHANGING FAST ENOUGH is the most powerful Painting I’ve seen this century. It’s hard for me to think that history worn’t regard it as akin to a (Goya’s)  The Third of May 1808  of our time.

“Taylor’s paintings occupy a new and different space within Black radical aesthetics,” Charles Gaines, Artist4.

too much hate, in too many state, 2001. From the wall card: “This painting places the viewer in the vantage point of James Byrd Jr., a Black man who was abducted and murdered on June 7, 1998, in Jasper County, Texas, by three white supremacists who chained his ankles to the back of their pickup truck and dragged him to his death. The brutal murder led to a national outcry, prompting calls for stronger hate crime legislation.”

While it’s front and center in  THE TIMES THEY AIN’T A CHANGING FAST ENOUGH, and too much hate, in too many state, “social criticism” in Henry Taylor’s work is often equally subtle, but always sharply on point. On the other side of the wall was a large gallery centered around the Black Panthers, including this remarkable installation-

Untitled, 2022, Mannequins, leather jackets, and posters, including a Colin Kaepernick 49ers jersey.

The wall card informs us that Mr. Taylor created this installation to honor the Black Panthers and his brother, Randy, who was active in his local branch. Adjacent to it were Photographs of many of those recently killed by police, bringing past and present together. On the other two walls of the gallery were Paintings of former Panthers Huey Newton, and this remarkable rendering of Eldridge Cleaver, looking like you-know-who out of James Mc Neill Whistler.

Eldridge Cleaver, 2007.

Along with the outcast, B Side also showed figures who have gone on to attain and achieve: quite a few of them.

A counterpoint to his Portraits of the overlooked and outcast, was a room of Portraits of celebrities, that included Chuck Berry, Jay Z, and Haile Selassie, were this Portrait of Jackie Robinson, A Jack Move-Proved It, 2011, right, and Michelle & Barak Obama, Untitled, 2020, left, sporting a copy of the Henry Taylor Rizzoli monograph of their coffee table.

And then there was this remarkable pairing-

That Was Then, 2013, left, depicts an older Black man who has probably heard the racist slur surrounding him many times, and Watch Your Back, 2013,

Fresh, exciting, bold, beautiful, direct yet mysterious, subtle and powerful, the Art of Henry Taylor has something for everyone, and I suspect that people many years in the future will continue to find that in it. B Side was a show that honored “outcasts” and the inspiring achievements of icons side-by-side, while pulling no punches about the world both of them, and the rest of us, live in.

For all those reasons Henry Taylor: B Side was a landmark show. A near perfect mid-career Retrospective in my view.

Man, I’m so full of doubt, but I must Hustle Forward, as my daughter Jade would say, 2020. Ladies & gentlemen, the one and only Henry Taylor.

It seems to me that to be able to face ALL of this with dignity and empathy for others is a remarkable thing; something all-too-rare today. As great as Henry Taylor’s Art is, this says even more about Henry Taylor, the man.

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “Sign O’ the Times” by Prince, performed live here in 1987,  during Henry Taylor’s Camarillo days-

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  1. Antwaun Sargent on Artsy in 2018 ↩
  2. Antwaun Sargent on Artsy in 2018 ↩
  3. Where Charlie Parker was famously sent for six months in 1946, and supposedly immortalized it in “Relaxin’ at Camarillo,” though he hated that title his producer gave it. It’s also rumored to be euphemistically referred to as “Hotel California” in the Eagles song of the same name. ↩
  4. Henry Taylor: B Side Catalog, P.60 ↩

Sarah Sze & Frank Lloyd Wright: A Match For The Ages

This site is Free & Ad-Free! If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing. You can also support it by buying Art & books! Details at the end. Thank you.

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

Show seen: Sarah Sze: Timelapse @ The Guggenheim Museum. This is Part 1, an overview. Part 2 looks at details from the show here.

Written on my soul. Frank Lloyd Wright’s signature adorning his trademark red square “cornerstone” on his round building. The dates attest to how long it took to get this building approved & completed, which every other of his many NYC projects weren’t. Seen September 5, 2023. Click any image for full size.

Those who have seen elements of Architectural design in some of the fantastic structures Sarah Sze includes in her impossible to categorize shows over the past few decades might be left with a sneaking suspicion the Artist has a desire to be an Architect. She would actually come by that honestly. Her father was an Architect, and Sarah, who began as a Painter, studied Painting & Architecture in school before graduating with degrees in both from Yale in 1991. After shows and Public Art installations all over the world, this past summer she met her match. To create work that holds its own in Frank Loyd Wright’s iconic Guggenheim Museum has been a standing challenge for Artists since it opened 65 years ago.

“It’s really a building that frames a void….How do you take on the most incredible void created in recent time in Architecture and talk to it in the slightest way?” Sarah Sze.

Installation view of 4 of the 8 Bays that made up the main section of Timelapse on the 6th (top) floor, September 5, 2023. Extra points if you see the very faint black string running from right to left against Wright’s Oculus (the skylight). It’s a unifying element of the show, though I’m not sure how many visitors spotted it as such. I’ll explain.

In Timelapse, Sarah Sze’s Art was installed outside and inside Wright’s masterpiece, the last major work of the Architect’s 7-decade career, and one that stands completely apart from everything else the he created, at least to my eyes. In it, she “dialogues” with Wright in the most innovative ways I’ve seen mounted in the Guggenheim, at least since Danh Vo’s spectacular show in 2018. Though the show “only” consists of projections on the building’s exterior, an installation in the ground-floor pool, 8 more installations in as many Bays on the Rotunda’s top floor, the freight elevator ramp, and the large rear gallery, I was told by a Guggenheim Staff Member it took five and a half weeks to install! That’s a long time for a significant part of the Museum to be closed. I can’t imagine the deinstallation was all that much quicker. Though it was up for only as many months (March 31 through September 10, 2023), it’s a show that’s hard to stop thinking about. Hence, it’s taken this long to complete this piece, which marks where I’m at in pondering it to this point.

“What I love myself about the experience of art is the sense of this moment of discovery when I’m seeing a work of art. And actually, that can happen a year after you see a work of art. You don’t always know how good a work of art is until you see it and you remember it in retrospect.” Sarah Sze.

Time is a river that flows on and on, through our lives. It may be that for most of us images mark time in our lives in any number of ways. We may remember our childhood & youth through a handful of images taken in the distant past, as we do so many significant events in our lives since. As time goes on, the pile of internal images gets edited down to those we feel are most significant. In a sense, this is something akin to “timelapse” Photography or Film/Video by which a succession of images are taken at intervals to record change over a given period, resulting in a simultaneously accelerated and collapsed sense of time. Timelapse considers “how we mark and measure time- constructing our own personal timelines of memory through images and fragments of experiences that are constantly evolving…a contemplation on how we mark time and how time marks us.” Sarah Sze (quoted in the press kit).

Media Lab, 1998, Mixed Media, installed along the wall adjacent to the freight elevator.

As such, it’s a show of Art that is focused on images. That marks an extraordinary transformation in the Art of Sarah Sze over her career. Early on, her work was object based and seemed to qualify as “Sculpture” to many people. Gradually, beginning with Media Lab, 1998, now in the Guggenheim’s collection, and almost hidden here in a corridor for the freight elevator, her work has come to include and feature images more and more, as I saw in her last NYC gallery show in 2019. The images start right away.

Cards without walls. The “wall card” for the video projections on the outside of the Guggenheim.

Timelapse begins with 2 video projections on the Museum’s exterior walls which I missed because the Museum closed at 6 and the sun wasn’t setting until 8 at the time. So, Timelapse started for me inside on the ground floor. The exterior projections turned out to be the first sign that images flow continually through all of Timelapse, showing how central they are to Sarah Sze’s work today. “Sculptor?” Good luck boxing her now!

  “The Renaissance, the Baroque, everyone was doing painting, architecture, sculpture that was Bernini, Michelangelo, that was par for the course,” Sarah Sze1.

“When is there water in a museum?,” the Artist asks on the audio guide. Inside, Timelapse begins in Wright’s pea-pod shaped ground level pool. Diver, 2023, First of two parts, Multimedia installation, and The Night Sky is Dark Despite the Vast Number of Stars in the Universe, 2023, First of two parts, Acrylic paint, string, paracord, and wood. A pendulum hovers over the hammock & the pool with a video projected onto it of Sarah Sze’s finger stroking water (in blue above). Note the string extending up from the pendulum extending into the void. (Gego: Measuring Infinity filled the rest of the Rotunda.)

Installed over Wright’s pool, the “hammock” looks like a restful place from which to ponder the river of images playing continually in your mind. The first video inside is a projection on the pool of Sarah Sze’s hand stroking water, taking “dialoguing” with Frank Lloyd Wright literally and with sublime subtlety! A pendulum “points” to this area, beckoning the viewer to look at it.  The pendulum is attached to a black string that extends up into the void, all the way to the top! Using this simple means of measuring with a plumb line, Sarah Sze at once measures the void, interacts with it, and leads the viewer to the main part of the show.

Sarah Sze, Guggenheim as a Ruin(!), 2009, Ink, string, collage on paper, 50 x 32 inches. (Exclamation mark mine.) An indication that Sarah Sze has been thinking about the Guggenheim for a long time. Notice the red string coming down from the top! It splits in two, and the right part seems to wind up over the ground floor pool, which has spilled on to the floor. Seen in the book Sarah Sze: Infinite Line. Not in the show.

“There is fragility in drawing a line through space; with this one simple powerful gesture, you can occupy an entire space.” Sarah Sze on the wall card.

The more I thought about it, though a mere speck compared to Wright’s huge open space, the string has come to “occupy” it in my mind.

While you’re lying on your back in the hammock, here’s your (approximated) view of Wright’s Oculus. See that small speck just south of 5 o’clock on the white glass (and the faint line running down from it to the right)? That’s the hub where the black string’s rise culminates before sending it off across the void to the main installation of Timelapse on the other side, (as shown in the 2nd picture). There are countless amazing details everywhere you look in the show. Therefore, I’ve decided to present an overview of the show in this piece and show details in a Part 2.

Taking Wright’s unique elevator to the top (as he intended visitors to do) and walking down, (usually, actually up in this case), visitors find the black string already there waiting in front of them. Following it still higher, I noticed it was anchored to a hub that sent it to multiple points all the way across the void to the other side of the 6th floor.

Bay 1. The Night Sky is Dark Despite the Vast Number of Stars in the Universe, 2023, Second of two parts, Acrylic paint, string, paracord, and wood and River of Images, Part two (white circle on the left). The near string holding the hammock is the continuation, and terminus, of the black string from the pea pod pool.

Walking to the beginning of Timelapse on 6, I had the deja vu experience of seeing another blue hammock, one end of which was anchored to the black string. Though dated 2023, the hammock and the one in the pea-pod pool are very similar to one she created in 2015 titled Hammock, down to the “confetti” on top of it (and similar to the one installed on the pool as we saw). Along side is a pile of A/V equipment, “enhanced” with torn analog Photographs, and a wide range of objects that make the viewer think, “Ah, this is not just A/V equipment, it’s part of the piece.” These equipment installations are to be seen at the beginning and end of each Bay, in varying degrees of complexity, and typically, with an inventory of a staggering number of items- generally her trademark common items, seen in most of her pieces, but also small, often very complex “Sculptures.” Since every Bay has a variety of these, they add a sense of unity and continuity to the entire floor as the viewer moves from Bay to Bay. 

Bay 2, Travelers Among Streams and Cascades, 2023, Oil paint, acrylic paint, inkjet prints, acrylic polymers, string, and ink on Dibond, aluminum, wood and paper on 6 panels, 114 x 245 inches. All the pieces on the 6th floor are dated 2023- including the Paintings! Since the show started going in around April, that means Ms. Sze must have been unimaginably busy earlier this year. More than likely, the show was in the works during the pandemic.

In an interview, Ms. Sze hoped that Timelapse would inspire a “I didn’t know you could do that in a museum,” reaction in viewers (especially young Artists)1. Meanwhile, River of Images (Part two), a continuation of the exterior projection, moved along each wall on 6, flowing from Bay to Bay and across all the Art as you stood and looked at it.

Closer to the extraordinary 20 1/2 foot Travelers Among Streams and Cascades, “mounted” on shims and a level, further reinforcing the “off-balance” experience of seeing Art in the Guggenheim. I wondered- Would Wright smile at this, or be offended?

Speaking of its focus on images, one thing I was extremely happy to see was that Sarah Sze has included four of her remarkable Paintings in Timelapse, each of which was dated 2023. Her style seems to have evolved since those seen in her landmark 400-page book, Sarah Sze: Paintings (a NighthawkNYC NoteWorthy Art Book of 2023). Though each Painting in Timelapse was quite strong, Travelers Among Streams and Cascades, in particular, struck me of attaining yet another level.

“The paintings for me are more about how I actually see in my head.” Sarah Sze1.

I was stunned when I heard her say that. In another interview, the Artist spoke of having them be a portal to the world beyond the walls. Given each piece in the show is newly created and site specific, it’s fascinating to ponder that when looking at the Paintings and how they’re installed. Each Painting is displayed in an exceptionally unique way. In fact, over the countless Paintings that have been exhibited in the entire, 65-year, exhibition history of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim I seriously doubt that ANY of these installation scenarios have been seen before.  

Bay 3. “Elements of Architectural design,” as I wondered in the first sentence? The massive and incredibly intricate Slice, approached from what turned out to be the back. In Timelapse, Ms. Sze continually plays on the “off-balance” feeling viewers have walking up and down Wright’s angled ramp. Here, notice the “shims” she’s placed under Slice to level it, which she’s chosen to leave visible for emphasis. Another way of dialoguing with Wright. Elsewhere, actual levels are seen are various points in the show. As in the prior picture, and as I show in Part 2.

Speaking of the installation, in spite of the numerous delicate assemblages and many small items installed on the floor, Sarah Sze reported during the run of the show that nothing had been broken, even after a weekend of 15,000 visitors. She attributed this to viewers moving slowly through the show.

Ms. Sze’s Art dialogues with Wright in numerous fascinating ways, while advancing her themes of time and memory in images. For one thing, as anyone who has been to the Guggenheim knows, the Rotunda’s Ramp is on a continual slope. Upward going up, and downward going down, creating a sense of being off-balance. “Tripping and catching yourself-a central idea of the Baroque1,” she said. Sarah Sze makes a point of showing the viewer how this affects her work, adding shims under parts of the huge Slice, or filling a large tank part way, making the fairly steep angle of the floor’s slope obvious . She equates this with creating a sense of being “off-balance” for the viewer who also often can’t tell if an image is digital or analog. “Equilibrium” is also reinforced by her use of 3 pendulums hanging from the black string at various points along its journey.

 

Slice, from its “front,” in dialogue with Wright’s Oculus. Barely visible behind the first step of the near ladder is her model of Slice in this Bay (which I show close-up in Part 2). I found the piece transcendent, and it wasn’t the only one that was. Timekeeper, 2016, installed in the large rear gallery, and displayed for the first time in NYC, seems to mark time on a grand scale. Here, the Artist dialogues with the building while giving us a “slice of time.”

As she has done in a number of recent works (like Crescent (Timekeeper), in her 2019 Tanya Bonakdar show), many of the images in Slice were actually miniature video screens so many of the images changed independently(!) as you watched. As for the images themselves, nowhere in the exhibition catalog, the check list, or the accompanying materials does it specify whose Photography we’re looking at. I’m assuming they’re by Sarah Sze.  

Bay 4, Diver, Second of two parts and Images That Images Beget on the back wall. In this work, there is a torn Photograph of the Sun, attached to the oscillating fan (shown close-up in Part 2). This image is followed by other images of the Sun on a a string  that make a trail to Images That Images Beget, which has a Sun in its center, as you can see below. Note the slope of the water in the tank. “Water in a museum,” part deus. In her Drawing for this piece, the Artist had the water in the tank right up to the top on the right.

All four Paintings were installed uniquely in my experience of 43 years of going to Painting shows. Bay 6 was one of two Bays that used strings with Photos mounted on them as a compositional device that either led to the Painting on the back wall, or referenced it. Installing them this way created an entirely new way of experiencing a Painting as you can see here-

Following the Suns. Images That Images Beget, 2023, 129 x 103 inches, Oil paint, acrylic paint, inkjet prints, acrylic polymers, and ink on Dibond, aluminum, wood and paper, on 4 panels, with a string, containing Photos, leading to it from the tank.

I found this a fascinating way of drawing the viewer into the space and making him or her consider individual elements, like the Sun, and countless small objects installed on the floor, along the way to seeing the Painting. It also occurred to me that it’s a way of both measuring the space, occupying the space, as she said, and dialoguing with Wright. The whole idea of installing objects on the floor, which has been done many times, is taken to a new level here with countless small, even tiny, objects lying on the floor, some you can see in this picture (and more in Part 2). I wonder if that’s been done here before.

Bay 5, Times Zero, 2023, Oil paint, acrylic paint, inkjet prints, acrylic polymers, and ink on Dibond, aluminum, wood and paper, on three panels. Total dimensions, 97 × 120 1/2 × 3 inches.

Regarding the Paintings in Timelapse, and specifically about Times Zero, the exhibition catalog says, “The paintings in this exhibition were created in Sze’s studio in New York, where the artist meticulously replicated the museum’s Bays in 1:1 scale, allowing her to work quasi-in situ. In the case of Times Zero, Sze was struck by the angle at which paint dripped on the sloping shelf that runs from the wall to the floor (familiarly referred to as the “apron”).”

Here the Painting itself is destabilized by having its mirror likeness begin to come apart. The catalog continues, “She later photographed the work and digitally manipulated it in perspective to the incline of the apron. The resulting full-scale print was then ripped and the shards arranged below the painting itself, like a reflection in water or an imprint; the debris was left to overflow at the edge like liquid5.” She will revisit this “overflowing” effect in a subsequent Bay.

Bay 6, A Certain Slant, 2023, Multimedia installation, including two-channel color video projection, with sound, various durations; video projectors; inkjet prints; and metal pendulum. A number of the torn analog Photos lying around the circle are of hands and forearms, as I show close-up in Part 2. Hands being a running theme.

A Certain Slant reminded me of Sarah Sze’s piece Triple Point, which I saw at MoMA a few years back, in that it has a center pendulum suspended over a pile of unspecified material. In Triple Point, however, the pendulum makes a much wider arc seeming to threaten the surrounding objects. In A Certain Slant, it confines its arc to the area of the salt mound.

Sarah Sze, Triple Point, Multimedia, 2013, seen at the opening of the latest “new” MoMA, October 21, 2018. A work that represented the U.S. at the Venice Biennale that year. The title is a reference to the “triple point of water,” a state where it exists simultaneously as steam, ice and a liquid.

Seeing Triple Point at MoMA left me amazed that Sarah Sze’s work can be installed (in Venice in the case of Triple Point), disassembled and reassembled (at MoMA and elsewhere). Given that Timelapse is site-specific for the Guggenheim, however, it would seem extremely unlikely it will ever be reassembled in full again.

Bay 7. Last Impression (on the back wall), 2023, Oil paint, acrylic paint, inkjet prints, acrylic polymers, and ink on Dibond, aluminum, wood and paper
84 × 56 1/4 × 2 inches.

In Bay 7, one of the highlights of the show for me, the strings were installed across the Bay, preventing the viewer from moving past a certain point, as seen below. Along the series of strings, numerous empty frames were hung, which is interesting since the Painting is not framed. This continued on a unique installation on the large blue ladder nearby to the right, which I show in detail in Part 2.

Closer. The strings strung across the bay limit how close the viewer can get to the Painting, which looks like it could contain an enlarged fingerprint. I’ve also never seen a Painting installed on/lying on the ramp, as the small one to the left is.

The Painting, installed on the back wall, was also accompanied by numerous drips and marks that appear to be on the wall, again mimicking a studio situation as in Bay 6. Unlike the “overflow” seen in Bay 5, Times Zero, this time it appears paint runs down the apron and on to the floor. It made me wonder if Ms. Sze was allowed to Paint on the walls and apron, or if this is part of the installation as well, though that is paint on the floor.

The final Bay, 8, Things Caused to Happen (Oculus), 2023, Multimedia installation, including color video projection, with sound, various durations; video projectors; wood; stainless steel; inkjet prints; toothpicks; clamps; ruler; and tripods. The natural light obscures the light from the projection which shines on the central structure then leaks on to the wall on the left, with strings running to it, indicating the breaking up of digital images. I show this in Part 2.

The showstopper was Things Caused to Happen (Oculus), installed in Bay 8, the final Bay on the 6th floor. Seen from a distance, above, it looked like an alien craft hovering in the space surrounded by cameras.

Close up. Each little square and rectangle appears to be a screen with images projected on each independently! How, I don’t know. I show a short video clip of this in Part 2.

Closer up, it seemed to mimic a human head, possibly imitating a number of images continually playing inside of one. I don’t know about you, but I only have one screen playing in my head at any given time. Once again, as in Slice, somehow, these tiny images changed as you watched- independently. Some appeared to be slide shows, some appeared to be video.

In the large rear gallery, which became a gallery as part of the non-Frank Lloyd Wright expansion, Sarah Sze’s monumental and monumentally complex Timekeeper, 2016, was on view.

Also included in the show were two older pieces; Media Lab, the Artist’s first piece to include video was kind of hidden on the ramp of the freight elevator, shown earlier, and the large Timekeeper, 2016, making its NYC debut. It was installed in the large rear gallery off the 6th floor, a space not designed by Wright to be a gallery, and like all the other spaces added in the controversial expansion (which I fought at the time, resulting in my first published Art writing in The New York Times, and which I remain no fan of), I find seriously lacking as gallery spaces. Her huge Timekeeper, now a part of the Guggenheim’s collection, was installed in the center of the darkened room and its video projections moved across all four walls. Between Media Lab, 1998, to Timekeeper, 2017, to Timelapse, 2023, the viewer can trace how long Sarah Sze has been interested in time, how images mark time, and memories, how long she has featured images in her work, and how her work has evolved.

Timekeeper, detail.

When Timekeeper was installed in Brandeis University’s Rose Art Museum in 2016, their Press Release said that it, “blurs the line between organic and mechanical structure, its lifecycle marked by clicking and whirring and flickering images. It keeps a form of eccentric time that is entirely its own, remembering moments over and over again as time slips by. In this sense, Timekeeper has no relationship to the mechanical devices we use to mark the literal passing of time, but instead to the way we recall and replay our lives, in selected fragments that, strung together, account for the passage of years.”

In my February, 2020 piece on her most recent NYC gallery show, I called Sarah Sze a “genius,” the only time I’ve used that term on a living Artist in the 8 1/2 years of NighthawkNYC.com. I should point out that this was BEFORE I saw the Sarah Sze: Paintings book, OR her spectacular recent Laguardia Airport installation. Exactly 4 years since I wrote that, I’ve seen nothing to change my mind.

“I didn’t know you could do that in a museum,” she said, thinking of how viewers, particularly young Artists, might react to Timelapse, before adding, “now you take that ball and run.”

Part 2 of my look at Timelapse looks at some of the countless details in the show, here. 

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “I’ve Seen It All” by Bjork, another of the world’s most gifted Artists. If I were to use that “g” word on a living Musician, she might well be the one I use it on. She performs it here in Dancer in the Dark–

For Lana, whose favorite is building the Guggenheim Museum, and for Ben, a passionate lover & student of Wright’s Art.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and 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. from her interview with Great Women Artists Podcast ↩
  2. from her interview with Great Women Artists Podcast ↩
  3. from her interview with Great Women Artists Podcast ↩
  4. from her interview with Great Women Artists Podcast ↩
  5. Guggenheim Museum, Timelapse Exhibition Catalog, P.129 ↩

Sarah Sze: Timelapse- Freeze Frame

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This is Part 2 of my look at Sarah Sze: Timelapse at the Guggenheim Museum. Part 1 is here.

Slice detail with Wright’s Oculus.

As I said in Part 1, there were so many amazing details in Timelapse I decided to devote a separate piece to them. I’m showing 40 as thumbnails. Click on any image for full size. There’s also a short video clip.

…and wonder about Timelapse I continue to…Show posters behind appropriate scaffolding, Seen on 10th Avenue, June 5, 2023.

The hub for the black string.

Following are Photos of details in the 8 Bays on the 6th floor. Please refer to the overall shots of each installation in Part 1 for orientation and where they are installed in each piece.

The following are details from Bay 1, The Night Sky is Dark Despite the Vast Number of Stars in the Universe

Detail of the Hammock in Bay 1. The Hammock over the ground floor pool and the Hammock Sarah Sze created in 2015 had a similar overlay. I believe the material on the floor is part of the installation, and hasn’t fallen through.

Detail of the far left corner of Bay 1, with a shadow from the Hammock and an image from River of Images.

The following are details from Bay 2, Travelers Among Streams and Cascades

Three details from the Painting, Travelers Among Streams and Cascades. This one from the left section…

Detail of the center section…

Detail of the right section.

The following are details from Bay 3, Slice.

Slice. Detail of the front.

Slice. Close up of the front. Shown here are a number of the recurring image “themes”: hands, birds, the Sun, fire, the sky and other aspects of nature.

Detail behind Slice with River of Images.

One of many levels and rulers.

Looking over a rung of a ladder to see the model of Slice in its Bay installed under it displayed next to the final piece.

Throughout Timelapse lamps were used apparently to draw the viewer’s attention to specific images or objects.

The following are details from Bay 4, Diver, Second of two parts and Images That Images Beget

The following are details from Bay 5, Times Zero

Times Zero, 2023.

The following are details from Bay 6, A Certain Slant,

Detail of the center surrounded by images of hands and objects.

Detail of the far right corner looking to the right from the image above. I imagine the salt from those blue containers is what is in the center of the circle.

Detail of part of the installation on the floor further to the right in the previous picture.

The following are details from Bay 7, Last Impression

An alternate, slightly closer view of Bay 5 from what I showed in Part 1. As you can see in the full size image, the empty frames to the right are attached to the strings that run across the gallery.

Some details of the ladder at the right side, front, of the Bay.

The following detail is from Bay 8, Things Caused to Happen (Oculus)

Short clip of Things Caused to Happen (Oculus).

The Artist points out that in the end, the digital images beamed on to Things Caused to Happen (Oculus) break up on the far wall.

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “I’ve Seen It All” by Bjork. This time in the version with Thom Yorke.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and 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.

Contemporary Chinese Photography: New Directions

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Many might not associate China with Artistic freedom and free expression, but a number of Contemporary Chinese Photographers are making their mark, creating work that breaks all sorts of boundaries, and quite a bit of it in stunning fashion. (in) directions: queerness in chinese contemporary photography, up through the end of January at Eli Klein Gallery, long a leader in cutting-edge Contemporary Chinese Art & Photography, is nothing if not an eye-opener. Wonderfully curated by Phil Zheng Cai and Douglas Ray, the show includes the work of Artists not well-known, along with some that are better-known, including Ren Hang (1987-2017) and former East Village resident Tseng Kwong Chi (1950-90).

Walking through the show with Mr. Cai, who is a walking encyclopedia of knowledge on Contemporary Chinese Art, much of that knowledge based in personal experience with the Artists, I was again taken by the freshness on view in virtually every piece. It’s so rare to walk into a Photography show and see very little, or virtually no, influence of Western Photography, save for an image or two that echoed Nan Goldin, (but that’s possibly what I’m bringing to seeing it). At almost every turn, I saw things that were new, fresh, and exciting. Actually? That’s what I’ve come to expect from Contemporary Chinese Art. In 2018, after seeing the landmark Guggenheim Museum overview, I began exploring it for the first time. Shortly after, at Eli Klein’s prior gallery, Klein Sun’s, amazing Cai Dongdong: Photography Autocracy I discovered  the work of Mr. Dongdong, now one of the best known Chinese Photographers. It was a wake-up call to what was going on in Chinese Contemporary Photography, and I wrote an extensive look at the show here.

Of course, (in) directions: queerness in chinese contemporary photography revolves around queerness, which I readily admit to not being an authority on. Whether that interests you or not, there is much to discover and enjoy, particularly the range of styles and creativity on display.

Cai Dongdong’s work never fails to surprise or break new ground. From (in) directions, it seems he’s far from alone in bringing that in Contemporary Chinese Photography. See for yourself-

Leonard Suryajaya, Dead Duck, 2020, Arisan, 2017, Gold Condo Room, 2020, Sparrow, 2023 and Salem, 2014 from left. Archival inkjet prints.

Leonard Suryajaya, Gold Condo Room, 2020.

Tommy Kha, Stops (III) Oneonta, NY, 2020, UV print on vinyl.

Fang Daqi, Untitled (Bream), 2020, Archival pigment print

Tseng Kwong Chi, Washington, D.C., 1982, From the “East Meets West self-portrait series 1979-89,  and Tseng Kwong Chi with mannequins, 1980, From the “Costumes at the Met” series, right. Both Silver gelatin prints.

From left- Shen Wei, Bonsai, 2023, Chromogenic print, Blue Cave, 2023, Mixed media, Pixy Liao, Breast Ass, 2019, Digital C-print, Fang Daqi, Untitled (Bream), Untitled (Butterfly 2) both 2023, Shen Wei, Daises, 2022, Chromogenic print, Pixy Liao, Long Sausage, 2016, Digital C-print.

Zhang Zhidong, Object Lesson (II), 2023, Archival pigment print.

Mengwen Cao, Eddy, 2021, Archival pigment print.

From left, Xu Guanyu, SL-06172015-02112022, 2022, and Illumination, 2014, Zhang Zhidong, Reflection (II), 2023, Lumination, 2022 and Object Lesson (II), 2023, All Archival pigment prints.

Co-curator Phil Zheng Cai with two of his favorites in the show by Tseng Kwong Chi.

My takeaway is that, regardless of where they’re from, their age, orientation or medium, it’s always exciting to see Artists doing something different. Doubly so when it’s well done. Japanese Contemporary Photography has been very well-known in the U.S. for decades now, and some of its leading lights, like Daido Moriyama and Araki, are Art stars around the world. Chinese Photography is nowhere nearly as well-known here. With Artists and work like those on view in (in) directions:, I suspect that is about to change.

BookMarks- Books on Contemporary Chinese Photography are hard to come by here. Cai Dongdong’s 4 PhotoBooks (that I’m aware of) were all printed in small numbers (up to 300 copies each) and have all sold out. However, one new book that is available as I write is (in) directions:, the catalog for this show. It’s an excellent introduction to these Artists, often with texts in their own words, and including quite a few images of work not in the show (along with the work that is). Curators Cai and Ray, along with designer Mengyao Zhang, have done a very nice job of succinctly laying out quite a bit of material in a very accessible manner, producing a valuable upto-the-moment survery on 21 Photographers who deserve wider attention. Copies are available through Eli Klein Gallery.

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “Accept Yourself” by The Smiths from their classic Hatful of Hollow, seen here in a rare live, though grainy, video from the Hacienda, Manchester, on 6 July 1983-

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and 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.

Mohammed Sami: The Power of Invisibility

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

Show seen- Mohammed Sami: Muzzle of Time @ Luhring Augustine

Mohammed Sami’s first U.S. show won’t be his last.

Refugee Camp, 2022, on the far wall and seen further below. All works are Mixed media on linen unless specified. Click any picture for full size.

I don’t know if I’m the first to say that, but I say it with confidence. I walked into Mohammed Sami: Muzzle of Time at Luhring Augustine on September 16th and immediately fell under the spell of his mysterious Paintings. I left realizing I’d “discovered” another rising Painter to be reckoned with. Of course, Mohammed Sami had already been discovered by numerous others before I saw his work. It turns out his Art was selected for the 58th Carnegie International in Pittsburgh, followed in March, 2022 by his first solo show in London. This spring, that city’s Camden Art Centre mounted his first solo institutional show, Mohammed Sami: The Point 0, known to me through its excellent catalog. When it opened on September 8th at Luhring Augustine, one of NYC’s most forward-looking galleries, Muzzle of Time announced his arrival on these shores in full effect in his first solo show here.

Meditation Room, 2022, 110 1/4 by 90 1/2 inches. Note the portrait of Sadam, near the upper right.

His road to this point has been long and grueling for someone not even 40. Born in Baghdad in 1984, where he had the misfortune of being raised during Saddam’s regime, and the resulting wars. As a dyslexic schoolboy, he traded Painting murals and portraits of Sadam (which every house was required to have) for passing grades in school. In fact, during Mr. Sami’s life in Iraq, the country was involved in no less than EIGHT wars!1. Art would prove to be his way out. He studied Drawing and Painting at the Institute of Fine Arts in Baghdad, graduating in 2005, before being granted asylum in Sweden in 2007. He lived there until 2015, leaving to continue his studies in the U.K., which he completed in 2018. He currently lives & works in London.

The Weeping Lines, 2022, 114 5/8 by 135 inches. “‘This is the type of signifier I use to hide the traumatic image behind something entirely different, like a cactus or the carpet on the floor, This helps to distract you from the main subject matter, which is trauma and conflict.’ In Arab culture, he says, euphemism and allegory are used as ‘a delusive strategy to not let the authorities understand what we’re saying.2.'”

Filled with Paintings that played it close to the vest, each revealed enough to be powerfully haunting, lingering in my mind to this moment. Since the show contained just 8 works (6 quite large), I needed to see more to get a feel for his accomplishment to this point. So, I went scurrying to find images of every other Mohammed Sami Painting I could locate. I was equally impressed by what I found, so I undertook this piece. Rendered in a similar style, each reinforced the initial impression though some upped the horror quotient.

A barricade against bombs … 23 Years of Night, 2022, Dimensions not known. Not in the show. *Photo by Robert Glowacki

In A barricade against bombs … 23 Years of Night, the reality of the seemingly innocuous scene is only really revealed in its title. In the process, it also provides a bit of insight into what we are seeing in the rest of his work.

Remnants. Reminders. Hidden scars. His Paintings provide small glimpses into his life that he says are born of “triggers” he came across, randomly, in Sweden, or now in London. The results are Paintings that are more like stills from a Film, leaving it to the viewer to fill in what came before in the story. Instead of hitting them over their heads, his work is characterized by a haunting subtlety that belies exquisite taste, and, it seems to me, supreme confidence in his abilities to communicate..

“The things I articulate in my artwork are memories hidden in the brain cells that are waiting for a trigger. So whenever the trigger is available, then the image comes2.”

Emotional Window II, 2023, 17 3/4 x 17 1/2 inches. Mr. Sami’s work is equally effective in mural size, or in easel size, as seen here.

The Artist Mr. Sami’s work comes closest to, for me, would be Thomas Demand, who constructs uncannily real-life recreations of scenes of historic or notorious import out of paper, leaving it to viewers to figure out what happened in these places. But, Mr Demand (as far as I know), did not grow up and live through, the hell and horror of war.

Moises Saman, A meeting room in an underground bunker used as a command center by Qaddafi’s security forces. Tripoli, Libya, 2011, Color ink-jet print. Not in the show.

As such, he’s, perhaps, closer to a conflict Photographer, like Moises Saman, of Magnum Photos, who covered the conflicts in Iraq, and elsewhere, as in this image he shot in Libya.

Electric Chair I, 2019-20, Acrylic on linen, 74 3/4 x 41 1/8 inches. Not in the show. *- Luhring Augustine Photo.

In fact, a few of his images echo a few of Mr. Sami’s. Im not introducing Mr. Saman here to compare their work. It’s interesting to see how their perspectives are different4.

Refugee Camp, 2022, 114 1/4 x 231 1/4 inches. “Several paintings titled Refugee Camp depict a house set deep within fenced woods, which we might be tempted to read as sinister. Sami, however, describes his stay there as ‘the most beautiful days in my life. It was a school of freedom where you’re free to pick your identity.’ He returns there every month. ‘It was a shock,’ he says. ‘You live in dust and deserts with the sound of bullets. And suddenly you open your eyes to gardens like heaven5.'”

Mohammed Sami had to move thousands of miles to have his life. Though Sadam is gone, the war is over, the scars remain, as they do after every conflict. It’s rare that a survivor expresses him or herself and their experiences in paint. Most History Paintings in Art history were done by Artists who were not eyewitnesses6. Even rarer to do so so subtly, relying on the power of the invisible to tell a visual story. Yet, it seems to me, that it is just this approach that allows him to tap into the collective unconscious. Everyone has things in our pasts that we are suddenly reminded of out of the blue by something we come across in the here and now, though they may not be war-related. In Mr. Sami’s work, we are transported by these triggers into what his experiences felt like, or feels like now, if not always the actual representation of events.

I can’t recall seeing this done, and done so effectively, in Painting before.

One Thousand and One Nights, 2022, 112 5/8 by 219 1/4 inches.

I haven’t been able to get Mr. Sami’s work off my mind these past two months. It haunts me the way I imagine his memories have haunted him. I haven’t read anything about whether these works are “therapeutic” for the Artist in some ways, or not. Having released these demons onto linen, I can only hope they exorcised them and help heal the scars. Still, there’s one thing that becoming apparent: his work is resonating with viewers. Mohammed Sami’s star is rising quickly.

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “Only the Dead See the End of the War” by Acrassicauda from Baghdad, who are, perhaps, best known as the subjects of the documentary Heavy Metal in Baghdad, 2007. One night a few years later, Acrassicauda’s guitarist, Tony Aziz, happened to sit down next to me at East of Eighth, on West 23rd Street- like Cecily Brown had a few years before. After I was introduced to him by my friend, Stephen, we had a fascinating, wide-ranging conversation. He was warm, well-spoken and quick to smile. He would leave the band in 2011. I hope he’s well.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and 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. The Guardian 3.21.2022 ↩
  3. The Guardian 3.21.2022 ↩
  4. A bit like looking at Matthew Brady’s  or Alexander Gardner’s Civil War Photographs and then Winslow Homer’s Civil War Paintings. ↩
  5. The Guardian, 3.21.2022 ↩
  6. Goya may be an exception, though I haven’t seen proof that he was actually present at the events he is sometimes credited with witnessing. ↩

November 22nd- Sixty Years On

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

“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 probably doesn’t mean much to many who weren’t born yet. But, if you were living on that day, I think it’s a day none of us have forgotten.

I remember it all, from a 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 24th, 1963 were. It included watching a man being killed for 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. I was out of school for a month, and still having problems with the cuts healing, etc. At 12:30pm, as I sat there waiting her 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.

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.

NoteWorthy Art Books, 2023: Hughie Lee-Smith

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Hughie Lee-Smith, published by Karma, 2023, is an Also Recommended NoteWorthy Art Book for 2023. The rest of my list may be seen here.

Hughie Lee-Smith’s work was new to me when I walked into Karma in the East Village in August, 2022, where 34 of his Paintings ranging from early to late in the Artist’s six-decade long career were on display. Taken by what I saw, I wrote about the show in a piece titled “Hughie Lee-Smith: Leaving History Behind,” highlighting my feeling that “…time is going to be kind to Hughie Lee-Smith’s work,” as I said concluding it. Still, as good as the show was, it was hard to get a feel for his overall accomplishment. In the end, the show was an appetizer, instilling a desire to see more.

Click any picture for full size.

A year later isn’t the kind of “time” I was referring to, given it can take a hundred years1 or quite longer2 for the dust to settle on exactly what posterity considers to be “Art,” with a capital “A.” Yet, a little over a year later, the main course has arrived in the form of Karma’s massive six-plus pound, 400-page, Hughie Lee Smith monograph. It leaves me with the inescapable feeling that the late Mr. Smith (1915-1999) deserves to be in the ranks of the significant Painters of a 20th century that doesn’t realize it.

HIs 1964 Self-Portrait has a starkness that echoes that seen in much of his other work.

Well, the century’s only been over for 23 years. It’s still too early to write a definitive history of 20th century Art, in my view. In fact, I guarantee that someone still unknown or under-known to us will yet come to light and make his or her case for inclusion like the case being made for Mr. Lee-Smith is.

Hughie Lee-Smith is the third book known to me on the Artist, and the most comprehensive look yet at his larger body of work, and therefore important: qualities I’m featuring in my other NoteWorthy Art Books this year. The book itself is a bit less than ideal, but more on that later. The real point here is Hughie Lee-Smith shows the consistent high quality the Artist achieved and maintained over 6+ decades, in the process, making the most compelling case for his importance and place in Art history.

Hughie Lee-Smith’s work is many things, and probably many different things to the people who’ve seen it, as I glean from reading the essays. Among those things, I have yet to see the work of another Artist that can hit some of the same notes that Edward Hopper (1882-1967) is, perhaps, most famous for; what people call the “loneliness, “isolation” and “melancholy” of modern life (which I saw differently earlier this year). I think that’s remarkable in its own right, but it’s not the sum total of Mr. Lee-Smith’s Art.

Hughie Lee-Smith was in no way “doing” Edward Hopper. He was his own man. He Painted completely for himself, through his experiences and the way he saw the world, in a style distinctly his own. That’s plenty compelling enough and his work deserves to be seen on its own merits.

Though it’s not stated what percentage the included work represents of his total oeuvre, it must be a very substantial part. Seeing so many of his Paintings spanning sixty years, from 1938 to 1998, is revelatory. First, the quality of his work over those six decades, as shown here, never lets up, though his style evolves and solidifies into what becomes his trademark blend of urban realism, theater and character study. His figures often seem locked inside themselves, their own interior world, inside a world that looks like ours. Hopper’s figures seem to be locked inside of our world, or a world much like it to the point that so many viewers, apparently, can related to it to the point that he is now one of the most popular Artists in the world. Like Hopper, Mr. Lee-Smith’s figures are on the line between representational and nebulous in the just the right degree. As in Hopper, facial details can get softened adding to their mystery. Most of them are solitary- even when there are others present, then they’re all solitary, doing their own thing or experiencing place and time for themselves, as in Outing, c.1970 shown above. Has anyone else done this?, or done this so often? Balthus’s The Street comes to mind (save for that “problematic” interaction on the left side). In fact, this “alone togetherness” seems to me to be a continual running theme through Mr. Lee-Smith’s very long career right to the very last works shown.

Giorgio de Chirico, The Enigma of Arrival and the Afternoon, 1912, Oil on canvas. To this point, de Chirico is most discussed for his so-called “Metaphysical” Paintings to about 1922. Rarely mentioned is that he lived another 56 years and continued to Paint at a high level until his death.

While Hopper may or may not be an influence, it seems harder to deny that Georgio de Chirico (1888-1978) wasn’t one. His possible influence feels continual. Figures isolated, or in small groups, in urban or suburban settings, and, perhaps, even more, the enigmatic atmosphere most of them share. It’s also interesting that a number of de Chico’s Paintings have streamer, pendants or flags flying, like the one above.

3 balloons on the ground, a long streamer up top…Aftermath…of what?

For someone new to his work, these seem a bit incongruous. Yet, they appear so often, it’s the kind of thing that makes one wonder why they’re there and what they “mean.” In this instance, their appearance may go back to his childhood. 

“During the years Lee-Smith lived with his grandmother in Atlanta, a visiting carnival would set up every year in a field across from his grandmother’s house. Although he was never allowed to attend, the carnival would have a lasting impact on his work. About the carnival, the artist said:

‘I was fascinated by the hauntingly dissonant sound of the calliope and the profusion of colorful ribbons, balloons, and pennants. However it was the denial of the pleasure of ever attending that carnival, owing to my grandmother’s perception of it as iniquitous, that established in my unconscious a life-long fascination with carnival life: some of the accouterments of which were to become characteristic elements of my painting many years later.'”3

The longer I look at them I wonder if his Landscapes without figures are all that different from his Landscapes with figures. They’re something of a tour de force in the sense that the Artist may still be expressing some of the same things as his Paintings with figures do. In these, the buildings look like individuals, who seem to be locked into themselves in a different sense than simply closing or locking a door. There’s often, though not always, an element of “other” in them: like a colored streamer, a balloon. Indicative, perhaps, of life going on in these places, or leftover memories of the Artist’s earlier days. Innocence hanging on in a time of new realities. 

Then, his late period shows the world something different, though not entirely: a different world. The settings are more imaginary, almost theatrical, yet the feeling remains meditative, the characters still inward looking. It all makes for a compelling whole of a very high quality throughout. Of so many Paintings, very, very few struck me as being “lesser,” and those only by comparison to the rest that are very strong.

A future “icon?”

It seems to me that Mr. Lee-Smith’s oeuvre contains a number of images that have the potential to become “iconic”: images that that have universal appeal they are seen often to the point of too often. The highlights are, frankly, too many to mention. 

All of this came as a shock to me as someone who had only seen 34 of his Paintings in the show last year. With every turn of the page, I felt the increased weight (heft) of his accomplishment adding up, and adding up, and adding up.

Though I’ve already published my NoteWorthy Art Books, 2023 list, I am amending it to add Hughie Lee Smith as a book I am “Also Recommending.” It’s likely to remain the most comprehensive book on his Art there is, and given what I feel will be his increasing importance and popularity, will be sought-after indefinitely. (The first edition is of 1 thousand copies, which will disappear if his star does continue to rise as I expect.) The production values are solid. Good paper, decent binding and boards, but this is not a perfect book. A number of the reproductions are blurry. Nothing is said in the book about this, so I don’t know why. Is this an artifact of the fact that his was work created over six decades and quality reproductions of some pieces were not available? Were some low resolution images that don’t enlarge well? Still, this shouldn’t dissuade anyone from checking Hughie Lee-Smith out. It’s likely to remain the best and only place to see most of his work. A good number of the Paintings included are in museums. It seems to me an increasing number will be.

All of this tells me that the time is here for a full-blown Hughie Lee-Smith Retrospective. Along with this book, such a show will go a long way to establishing his place once and for all.

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “Time Has Come Today,” by The Chambers Brothers, released in 1967, 3 years after Mr. Lee-Smith’s Self-Portrait, shown earlier, was Painted, and during the height of the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War, though neither is directly referenced, performed here on the Ed Sullivan show in a truncated version-

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  1. in Francis Bacon’s view ↩
  2. in my opinion ↩
  3. P.29-30 ↩

NoteWorthy PhotoBooks, 2023: Nan Goldin: This Will Not End Well

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

The slide projectors showing Nan Goldin’s The Ballad of Sexual Dependency at MoMA in 2016-17. *-MoMA Photo. Click any photo for full size.

“What becomes a legend?” someone used to ask. I wouldn’t know. If the question becomes “Who becomes a legend?,” it seems to me that Nan Goldin is just about there. Having recently being named the Art World’s “Most Influential Figure” in the ArtReview Power 100 on top of the Academy Award Nominated Best Documentary she was the subject of, she’s long been one of the most influential Photographers working today- especially on other Photographers. When I think of all the those I’ve spoken with who named influences, her name surfaced as often as anyone else’s1. Yet, one of her most influential realms and biggest innovations, the Slideshow, has gone largely overlooked historically to this point. In her Slideshows and Films, Nan Goldin presents her work as she wants it seen and experienced.

A sealed copy of the now sold out First Edition with the cover showing a projection.

In 2022, the Artist collaborated with Moderna Museet, Stockholm on a retrospective of her 5 Slideshows and 2 Films titled Nan Goldin: This Will Not End Well, a traveling show that began at Moderna Museet in October, 2022, and will be touring in Europe until it finishes in Milan in 2025. Accompanying the show, Ms. Goldin, the Moderna Museet and Steidl have released a book of the same name, with the Artist commissioning the majority of the 20 texts included in it. Published in October, 2022, copies didn’t show up here until early 2023, then the first edition promptly sold out. A second went into print last month- 13 months after the first, the fastest recent PhotoBook reprint I can think of this side of Petra Collins’s Coming of Age, and a testament to Nan Goldin’s popularity.

“I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
Yeah, oh
I recommend walkin’ around naked in your living room
Yeah”-*

Early posters for what was called Ballads of Sexual Dependency at the time. From Nan Goldin’s collection. Seen at MoMA in March, 2017.

Nan Goldin: This Will Not End Well is a unique PhotoBook in my experience. Of all the PhotoBooks I’ve seen I can’t think of one that is largely drawn from Slideshows (5 of the 7 works included). That’s probably because very few Artists not named William Kentridge, or any Photographers I can think of, have done a body of them. Mr. Kentridge’s largely consist of his remarkable Drawings and, longer or shorter, are more usually considered Films. Between the covers, the book is gripping. The narratives the Slideshows & Films contain range from her childhood and her sister Barbara’s horrific teenage suicide, to hanging out with her friends (many of who are familiar to her fans), and to the nightmare of addiction.

Trixie on the Cot, New York City, 1979, Silver dye bleach print, printed 2008. I can’t tell you how many Photos I’ve seen that seem influenced by this remarkable Photo. A Note about my show photos- Frankly, glare at shows is indicative of choices in glazing (and choices in lighting). All of my pictures taken in shows document what it really looked like, which is less than ideal for any viewer in this case. In my experience, too few galleries and museums use glare-free acrylic, probably due to its extra cost. In fairness, when I took this at MoMA in March, 2017, glare-free acrylic was not as commonly used as it is now. You can also see it better here.

Nan Goldin began using Slideshows shortly after relocating to NYC in 1978. Her first, called Ballads of Sexual Dependency at the time, was included in the legendary Times Square Show, 1980, that was Jean-Michel Basquiat’s first public show, and also included the work of Jane Dickson, among others. It consisted of upwards of 700 Photographs and had a soundtrack. In 1986, the Artist & Aperture Foundation whittled those down to the 127 images published in the now classic PhotoBook of the same name, which was most recently reprinted for the twenty-first time.

The entrance to the show in March, 2017.

In 2016-7 MoMA showed The Ballad of Sexual Dependency Slideshow (which lasts almost 42 minutes), a gallery of Photographic Prints from the series, and ephemera including vintage posters for early presentations of the work (shown above), when it was called Ballads of Sexual Dependency, from Ms. Goldin’s collection. It leads off This Will Not End Well with 60 images, with Steidl’s Press Release saying, “The book retains the presentation of the slide shows by showing all images in the same format on a black background and sequenced as they are in the sources.” I don’t know how many others, besides myself, would have loved to have seem ALL the images of all the Slideshows included in order in the book. That would have been a huge book. What is included is hard to argue with, given the Artist’s involvement. Even though the Slideshows are not complete (with selected stills from the Films included), the book is a remarkable chance to see these works in stop frame, which provides a chance to study the individual Photographs and to study the sequence, which move by quickly on the screen, at least in the sections reproduced.

Nan and Brian in Bed, New York City, 1983, Silver dye bleach print. Nan took this with a remote she’s holding in her hand. Obviously, it became the cover image for the Aperture book, The Ballad of Sexual Dependency. Seen at MoMA in March, 2017.

The Other Side (Slideshows, 16:45 in duration), All by Myself (Slideshow, about 6 minutes), Sisters, Saints and Sibyls (Three-channel video, 35 minutes), Fire Leap (Slideshow, about 15 minutes), Scopophilia (about 23 1/2 minutes), Sirens (Single-channel video, 16 minutes), Memory Lost (Slideshow, 24 1/2 minutes), and a final section titled “Missing,” follow. Each one will touch the heart, and linger in the mind indefinitely. This Will Not End Well was not a book I suspect many saw coming. But now that it’s here it earns its place as another excellent book among Nan Goldin’s classic books. Not one of which I’d part with. 

The infamous Heart-Shaped Bruise, 1980, Silver dye bleach print. Seen at MoMA in March, 2017.

“You live, you learn
You love, you learn
You cry, you learn
You lose, you  learn
You bleed, you learn
You scream, you learn”-*

I am not optimistic about how much Photography will be considered “Art” in a few hundred years when all the dust settles. It, and Film, are relatively young mediums, and so, so much Photography has been done. Of that that survives, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to see Nan Goldin’s work make the cut. Such is the power of her work.

The equally infamous Nan One Month After Being Battered, 1984, Silver dye bleach print. Seen at MoMA, March 2017.

Nan Goldin: This Will Not End Well is an Also Recommended NoteWorthy PhotoBook for 2023. The full list is here. 

*-Soundtrack for this piece is “You Learn” by Alan’s Morissette from her masterpiece, Jagged Little Pill, 1995.  I saw Alanis perform it live on her ’95 tour with the great Shirley Manson & Garbage opening! But, seeing her sing it here in São Paulo last month gave me chills. In this inferior quality audience recording (her official video is here), she sounds like she’s almost holding back so she can hear the massive crowd singing her lyrics back to her. WHAT a feeling that must be! I’ve played in front of appreciative crowds, but to see and hear the effect your Music has had on so many people has got to be overwhelming. I imagine Nan Goldin is, also, getting a good deal of love coming back to her from all of those who relate to, and love, her work.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and 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. Like this one, to name one. ↩

Van Gogh’s Cypresses: Art From Hell

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

This new decade promptly brought with it the coronavirus pandemic, then a rolling lockdown in response. Isolation followed worldwide to a degree not seen since the equally devastating Spanish flu pandemic, 1918-20. I imagine most of us experienced isolation, or close quarters living, more than we had in our lifetimes. Still emerging from mine, as others are around the globe, it was somewhat ironic and timely that The Met chose Vincent van Gogh (1853-90) as the subject of its 2023’s summer blockbuster show. I also found it fortuitous. There’s spending a few years alone. Then, there’s spending virtually your entire adult life alone. As a momentous day dawned in my life, one I had dreaded spending alone- Who better to spend it with than Vincent van Gogh?

Perhaps no one I know of was more familiar with isolation and being alone than Vincent was. 

Welcome to The Met! In all my years of going to The Museum as I call it, currently 1,800+ visits since 2002, I’ve never seen TWO banners (left & right) up devoted to the same show. And, as I was soon to find out, it’s not like there weren’t other terrific shows going on! And, after all these years, I still get a tingle up my spine when I see this in front of me. Seen on June 2, 2023. Click any image for full size.

The Met’s Van Gogh’s Cypresses, centered on his depictions of the coniferous tree in his Art from March, 1888 through May, 1890, which the curators compare to his iconic sunflowers in his oeuvre. I, however, couldn’t get the backstory out of my mind. Rarely mentioned on the wall cards, was the utter hell Vincent was living through during the final year and a half covered by the show. In a life marked by struggle & loneliness, perhaps nothing he experienced was as bad as the confluence of hardships Vincent van Gogh faced from December 23, 1888 through May, 1890, when the show ends, 2 months before his death by suicide or murder.

The maze-like ticket line. You buy yours, then get on the “virtual line” and wait for a text…

I saw Van Gogh’s Cypresses three times. Each time, I bought my ticket, then waited on the “virtual line” for 2 hours before it was my turn to go in. Well, if I could pick a place on Earth to be “stuck in” with 2 hours to kill, “Oh, PLEASE let it be The Met!” Suffice it to say that during my waits I saw exceptional shows: Cecily Brown: Death and the Maid; Juan de Pareja, Afro-Hispanic Painter; In Praise of Painting: Dutch Masterpieces at The Met; and Philip Guston: What Kind of Man Am I? ! Two I’ve subsequently written about. PHEW. And then, I then spent close to 3 hours in Cypresses each time. 

During my wait I also checked out Vincent in the Permanent Collection upstairs to reconnect with his work that wasn’t in the show. I wrote about this gallery in 2018 when they were reinstalled after the skylight project had been completed here. Notice the light coming in from above.

Along the way, I realized I have been looking at Vincent for over 40 years. Van Gogh’s Cypresses is the FOURTH major Met Van Gogh show I’ve seen. In 1984, I saw Van Gogh in Arles. In 1986, Van Gogh in Saint-Rémy and Auvres (which includes the period covered in Cypresses), and in 2005, Vincent Van Gogh: The Drawings. Each one terrific1. The common denominator of each show is Susan Alyson Stein, who was on the staff of the first two, rose to co-curator of The Drawings, and now curator of Cypresses. Her legacy at The Met is approaching that of Carmen Bambach, Met curator of Drawings & Prints, who has given us the landmark Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman & Designer and Leonardo da Vinci: Master Draftsman, among others. HOW Ms. Stein, her team, & The Met ever got MoMA to part with The Starry Night, perhaps MoMA’s biggest single attraction, for the entire summer amazed me.

You may never see this again. MoMA’s Van Gogh wall on July 4, 2023 with The Met’s Irises, center, in the spot previously (and currently as of October 20, 2023) occupied by The Starry Night. Unfortunately, its original pink background has faded and apparently can’t be restored.

On a visit to MoMA this summer, I discovered The Met had “traded”/lent Vincent’s Irises, 1890, for it, which MoMA hung in The Starry Night’s spot. Interestingly, both it, and the work to its left in the picture above, The Olive Trees- Saint Rémy June-July, 1889, were Painted while Vincent was in the Asylum, the subject of the central, Part II of the show, but are not included in Cypresses because neither depict them.

Meanwhile, at The Met, Cypresses begins in somewhat subdued, though beautiful, fashion.

Drawbridge, May, 1888, All Paintings shown are Oil on canvas unless stated. The cypresses stand off to the side.

Arranged in three Parts, Part I of the show takes place in Arles from March, 1888 to early Spring, 1889. Vincent is hard at work trying to build on all he’d seen in his prior 2 years in Paris, a time that saw his work go from the dark, almost monochromatic, earth tones of works like The Potato Eaters to vibrant color. His palette has opened up, his journey to being “the first great colorist. Great…great colorist,” as David Hockney called him2, has begun. Now, he was after a style of his own. Note the very flat sky in Drawbridge, the first Painting in the show.

Installation view of Part I. The entrance is on the far right. Drawbridge straight ahead.

Throughout this period, and for the rest of his life, he juggled the influence of countless Artists, including the so-called Impressionists, the so-called Post-Impressionists and Japanese Woodblock Prints, all of which can be seen in Drawbridge. He had met and been influenced by Georges Seurat3, Paul Gauguin and Claude Monet (who was represented by his Art dealer brother, Theo, for a time), among others. His mission now was to develop his own style and begin to have his work sell, like theirs was beginning to. Totally dependent on Theo for money to survive, the heat was on.

Garden at Arles, July, 1888. Another flat sky, but notice how everything else is different. It has an almost spontaneous feel to it, until you see the Drawing next to it, now below. It’s endlessly fascinating to compare them both. 

Looking at the Paintings and Drawings in Part I, almost no two share entirely the same style. In Drawbridge, and Garden at Arles, above the skies are fairly flat. That would end. Notice the difference in the landscapes in both Paintings, created 2 months apart. In Part 1 we see the state of flux his style was in, indicative of his efforts to meld all he had seen in Paris and in Japanese Prints into a style of his own.

Garden with Flowers, July-August, 1888, Reed pen and ink over graphite on wove paper. Yes, a reed pen, which is made by cutting and shaping a single reed straw or length of bamboo. In Part I, a Drawing is pared with its resulting Painting a few times. Though some of his work, like Garden at Arles, above, has a “spontaneously dashed off” look to it, this is deceiving. Studying both, it’s striking to me how exact Vincent was when it came to translating his work from Drawing to canvas. Close looking reveals that even the smallest details are faithfully copied over from one to the other. After. you’re done studying that, then ponder his choices of color for each part.

By 1888, his Drawings, on the other hand, needed no additional inspiration beyond what he seems to have learned from his passion for Japanese Prints, which he amassed a sizable collection of. At least, that’s the only explanation I can find for them- there is none in Western Art that I know of. His Landscape Drawings from this time, like Garden with Flowers above, were and are, singular. Ever since I saw them in depth at The Met’s Van Gogh: The Drawings show in 2005, I continuously marvel at how he now saw and rendered fields, trees, and skies, especially since earlier on his Landscape Drawings, like this one, were much more “traditional.” His evolution as a Draftsman was as quick and as stunning as that of his as a Painter, and are among the most remarkable things about Vincent’s Art career.

Theo would convince Gauguin to join Vincent in the Yellow House in Arles, after offering him financial assistance to do so. This would FINALLY be the beginning of the realization of Vincent’s dream of establishing the “School of the South.” Arriving in September, the two co-existed for a while, but their personalities were bound to combust at some point. Very little is said in the show about what happened to Vincent next.

Still Life of Oranges and Lemons with Blue Gloves, January, 1889. The culminating work in Part 1. The prevailing serenity of this work, with cypress branches surrounding the basket, is shattered when you realize that this was Painted a few weeks after the attack that resulted in Vincent cutting off his left ear! In and out of the Arles hospital in January, and caught in an overwhelming fear of another attack (which he would have a few weeks later4)- all of which he was dealing with alone- HOW is it possible he could Paint this?

On that fateful December 23rd, 1888, the stuff hit the fan with Gauguin. Things had been festering while the two passionate & volatile temperaments were largely stuck inside working in close quarters due to the winter weather, until the boiling point made Gauguin announce he was leaving Arles to return to Paris, ending their “experimentation” in the Yellow House and Vincent’s long-standing dream of a “School of the South.” As if this wasn’t upsetting enough, Vincent had just received a Letter announcing that his brother Theo planned to marry, ending his hopes for the two brothers to live & work together. These portents of abandonment, the dashing out of hope (critical for someone as isolated as Vincent was), and the impending Christmas holiday, which reminded the Artist of his horrible falling out with his family one Christmas past, apparently conspired to bring on an attack5. The exact illness Vincent suffered from is still the subject of hot debate 130+ years later. Some say it was due to his drinking. Other theories include syphilis and epilepsy. In the throes of all of this he cut off his left ear, apparently leaving only the earlobe, then wrapped it and took it to a brothel that Gauguin may, or may not, have been in at the time. Barred entrance, he presented it to the “sentry” at the door, then went home and collapsed6. Theo was summoned, but stayed only a few hours before rushing back to Paris(?), with Gauguin! Vincent was hospitalized in Arles, with an initial diagnosis by the 21-year-old medical student on duty as suffering from frontal lobe epilepsy.

Vintage advertisement for the Asylum in Saint-Rémy. Notice the walls around the Asylum. *-Photo from the Van Gogh Museum

He would be in and out of the hospital7 until, steps ahead of his neighbors who had signed a petition to have him removed from their midst, he decided to VOLUNTARILY admit himself  to the insane asylum in nearby Saint-Rémy, in May, 1889, which is the point at which Part II of Van Gogh’s Cypresses begins. Phew…

Installation view of Part II, which is centered on a veritable “murder’s row” of 5 Van Gogh Masterpieces, highlighted by The Starry Night, right of center, with the Met’s Wheatfield with Cypresses partially hidden by the column. In my view, these are some of the most unfathomable Paintings in the entirety of Western Art history given the circumstances of their creation. It’s stunning how The Starry Night breaks up the vibrant sunshine in the others as the only nocturnal work among them.

For the next year, in particular, and for the short rest of his life, his fears of another attack proved well founded. He had had smaller attacks before the December, 1888 attack in which he cut off his ear. He would have four serious attacks in the year he spent in the asylum.

“Each time he hoped would be his last. ‘A more violent attack,” he feared, “could destroy my ability to paint for good.’ But instead, the attacks grew longer and fiercer; the intervals between them, shorter; his behavior, more bizarre and violent. Once, while in the garden, he scooped up a handful of dirt and began to eat it. Another time, he assaulted his asylum escort, accusing him of being a spy for the secret police.”

“With each escalation, the misery between attacks deepened and the leash of restrictions tightened. He was confined to the asylum; then to his dormitory; then to his room; then to his bed. He spent almost two months deprived of “open air.” His throat swelled up with sores. He barely ate or spoke, and wrote no letters. At times, he longed for death, if only the next attack would be his last. ‘I hated the idea of regaining my health,’ he later recalled, ‘always living in fear of relapses … I preferred that there be nothing further, that this be the end.’” Van Gogh: The Life, P.772

When Painting was forbidden, that might have been the hardest for him being the only thing he cared about. Painting was all he had left. (I shuttered as I wrote that.)

A (partial) list of the breakdowns/attacks Vincent suffered as they appear in the Index of Van Gogh: The Life. Arles is where he was in Part I of the show, where the smaller attacks led to the big “ear-cutting attack”. He was in the Asylum in Saint-Rémy in Part II. Only the major, ear-cutting, attack on December 23, 1888 is even mentioned, in passing, in the show.

But, as horrible as all of that must have been, there were still more levels of hell in store for Vincent. Things got worse. 

“Is there a reason for today?
Do you remember?”
*- Cream “World of Pain”

If you love Vincent van Gogh, this woman deserves your thanks. Johanna (Jo) van Gogh-Bonger was Theo’s wife for a year and a half before he died of syphilis, six months after Vincent died. Vincent strongly resented her coming in and “taking” Theo from him. Though she knew nothing about Art she inherited Vincent’s Estate from his brother and went on to make Vincent one of the most popular & beloved Artists in the world today. She did it by realizing Vincent’s Letters were the key to getting people interested in him. She edited & published them, though her edition is out of print, and not the one seen here in The Met’s bookstore, June 2, 2023. Hans Luijten’s biography is extremely detailed and is recommended- after you read Van Gogh: The Life and Vincent’s Letters.

As if his all of that wasn’t enough, during this time, he often went for a month or longer without hearing from Theo, who was busy with his impending marriage to Jo Bonger, finding and preparing an apartment for the new couple, and then for the arrival of their first child- ALL of this pained Vincent greatly, Theo being his lifeline to the world & support in it. As if that wasn’t enough, furthering his intense feeling of abandonment & isolation, Vincent was not allowed to explore the surrounding countryside for the first month in the asylum. A man now regarded among the great Landscape Painters the world has yet seen was forced to settle for the asylum’s enclosed garden and seeing the surrounding countryside from his window- a window with bars on it!

Somehow, NONE of this stopped him from creating masterpieces.

Landscape from Saint-Rémy, June, 1889. June, the month after his arrival, would be the key month in his year at the Asylum.

“I have two landscapes on the go of views taken in the hills. One is the countryside that I glimpse from the window of my bedroom. In the foreground a field of wheat, ravaged and knocked to the ground after a storm. A boundary wall and beyond, grey foliage of a few olive trees, huts and hills.” Letter to Theo (Letter 779, June 9, 1890).

Painted in June, 1889, almost exactly one month after he arrived in the asylum, this is the view from his 2nd floor bedroom window- minus the bars. It’s very interesting to me that he left the bars out. (There is a work in the show of the wall in his studio that shows its window with bars, shown below.) It certainly wouldn’t have been salable at the time if he had included them, but, how much more so is this? This is a Painting about nature- the land (with distant, almost incidental, cypress trees), the hills, the sky- and not a defacto “self-portrait.” Or is it? The wheat has been “ravaged and knocked to the ground after a storm,” confined in a space bordered by “a boundary wall.” Is that an analogy to his condition and situation at the time? There’s nothing more about it in Letter 779, so it would only be my speculation. IF that is not the case, and Vincent’s sole intention is what we see- without the bars that he saw- then I find it utterly transcendent. Note the mountains and the way the huts are situated- they would have another life.

Inside his life in the asylum. Vincent was granted the use of an empty room downstairs from his room as a studio. Window in the Studio, October, 1889, Chalk, brush, oil paint, and watercolor on paper, seen in Part III, shows a window he saw the outside world through- this time with the bars on it. Note the Artwork hanging in the upper right corner.

The opening of Part III: Vincent’s window, left, with the actual work he shows in the upper right corner hanging next to it- Trees in the Garden of the Asylum, October, 1889, right. It shocked and almost overwhelmed me when I realized this work hung in his asylum Studio. As such it’s one of the most extraordinary things I’ve ever seen (even beyond Art). Vincent chose this work to look at while he was living a horror show.

“Outside my window is a tree
Outside my window is a tree
There only for me” *

Here he is, having admitted himself to an insane asylum(!) with an ailment that doctors still argue about, entirely alone, surrounded by the insane, and living in fear of suffering another attack. Still, his Letters reveal he put himself under continual pressure to develop his own style AND create work that was salable to justify the expense Theo was incurring and, possibly, support himself. Yet, in spite of ALL of this he SOMEHOW managed to create 150 Paintings, including any number of masterpieces! Among them, what is now, perhaps, the most beloved Painting in the world- The Starry Night– which he Painted that same June- one month after entering the asylum, during a period when he was not allowed outside at night!

“I can hear all the cries of the city
No time for pity
For a growing tree
There is a world of pain
In the falling rain
Around me” *

Is this the “greatest” Painting in Western Art? While I don’t believe “best” exists in the Arts, a case can certainly be made for just that. I think an even stronger case can be made that it is the most revolutionary Painting of its time and before. It’s unprecedented. In any event, it certainly must be among the most loved today, if it is not THE most loved Painting in the world. But? It twasn’t always thus! There is no Painting I’ve stood in front of more often in my life than The Starry Night, June, 1889. That’s because MoMA owns it, I live here and I make a point of seeing where they have installed it on each visit8. No matter- Every single time I see it, it thrills me. Seen here during the first time of all those I haven’t seen it at MoMA. The Met, June 2, 2023.

That’s right- Perhaps, the most famous night Painting in Art history was Painted indoors because the Artist was not allowed outside at night. (Read that again. I almost typed it twice it’s so hard to believe.) When you compare it to Starry Night Over the Rhone, September, 1888, which he did Paint outdoors at night, the difference becomes obvious. Stuck inside, to create The Starry Night, he combined a few Paintings he had already created into a night scene. He “borrowed” the horizon of hills from the recently completed Landscape from Saint-Rémy shown earlier. Front left is a large cypress, the tree having arrived as a focus after having lived in the background as seen earlier. The Met’s curators make the case of the numerous meanings the tree has had down through the centuries, death among them, given its frequent appearance at cemeteries. Long life, another, given the 1,000 year life of some. It would be central for a few months that summer, then, it suddenly disappeared from his focus, again relegated to the distance. This makes me wonder if the cypress had a connection with Paul Gauguin, who Vincent was eternally trying to win back after the disaster before Christmas the year before. The sky, the stars and the moon, however, are something else entirely- something not based on an earlier Painting he or anyone else did. Here, in all its glory, we finally see Vincent coming into his own!

After he Painted it, Vincent came to regard The Starry Night as a “failure!” He sent it to Theo, as he did all his Paintings. Theo didn’t know what to do with it. He railed against Vincent exploring stylistically, considering efforts like this to be “unsalable.”

“’it is better to attack things with simplicity than to seek after abstractions’, he confessed to having erred in the past with images like La Berceuse and the second Starry Night (i.e. this one, from June, 1889), both of which he dismissed as ‘failures.’ ‘I allowed myself to be led astray into reaching for stars that are too big,’ he wrote, ‘and I have had my fill of that9.'”

Vincent promised to toe the mark and produce more conventional work. That sound you hear is the wind rustling through the trees caused by countless millions of Art lovers today shaking their heads in disbelief.

You’re looking at the reason The Met had to get MoMA to lend them The Starry Night. Under the terms of its acquisition, the Met’s Wheatfield with Cypresses, June, 1889, is not permitted to leave the building. In the show, it was displayed immediately following the immortal nocturnal work. Both were Painted in June, 1889, as was Landscape from Saint-Rémy, shown earlier, making June, 1889 one of the most historic months in Art history. Wheatfield with Cypresses is usually displayed on its own wall in The Met’s Permanent Collection Galleries, signifying how The Museum feels about it, though they have 24 Paintings by Vincent! MoMA has 3. Wonder why I heart NYC?

Let’s think about it for a moment. The Starry Night is a one-Painting revolution that no one followed! Almost every other work of daring has inspired imitators or disciples, from Picasso’s Cubism to Seurat’s “chromoluminarism,” as he called his style (others have called it “pointillism”), to Jackson Pollock’s abstractions. Artists who are or were influenced by Van Gogh (like Edvard Munch) seem to me to be “more generally” influenced by him than influenced by The Starry Night specifically. Vincent, himself, infrequently revisited his Starry Night innovations later. Can you imagine what it would have been like if had taken them from the get-go in June, 1889 and ran with them?

Though it’s a copy of The Met’s Wheatfield with Cypresses, it’s titled A Wheatfield, with Cypresses, September, 1889, now in the collection of the National Gallery, London. The two were hung side-by-side in a once in a lifetime chance to study them together. I spent a few hours over 3 visits just going back and forth between these two masterpieces, comparing a detail in one with that in the other. Vincent’s style at this point bordered on total freedom, yet a close look reveals how amazingly similar these two Paintings are- except for the brushwork (and the clouds). The Met’s Painting is rich with impasto, the London picture is much more refined with a greatly toned down exuberance in the application of paint.

You never hear Vincent mentioned as an “abstract” Painter, yet looking at the “London” version of The Met’s Wheatfield, which Vincent Painted 3 months after the original, it would seem to me the case could be made as elements here border on abstraction. As if The Starry Night wasn’t enough of an indication of it, the two Wheatfields with Cypresses are more examples of how far he was now ahead of his time, in my view, having started out a mere 8 years earlier as a beginner! Just incredible.

One of the very best things about Art shows is the chance to see related pieces now housed in distant corners of the earth reunited for a brief moment, like this.

Yet, despite having this apparent “freedom,” he still stuck to his original composition down to small details, though with modifications. It’s fascinating to notice what he did change and wonder why.

Cypresses, June, 1889. To my eyes, all the forms seem to want to just fly off into what we might call pure abstraction. It’s interesting the taller cypress is cut off.

It seems to me that even more than Seurat, from June, 1889, on, Vincent was pushing the frontier of what would be called “Modern Art” a few years later. I wonder if not having a formal Art education allowed him this freedom to continually break rules he may, or may not, have even been aware of.

Meanwhile, over at the Guggenheim Museum, I saw this- Vincent’s Mountains at Saint Rémy. While not in the show, I’m including it because it was Painted one month after The Starry Night and Wheatfield with Cypresses in July, 1889. While it doesn’t include cypress trees (as far as I can tell), it says much about the direction Vincent’s style was going.

While many credit Manet as the beginning of Modern Art, a case can be made that what became known as “20th Century Painting” really started in the works we see on this wall that Vincent painted from June to September, 1889- while he was in an insane asylum.

Cypresses and Two Women, February, 1890, Oil on canvas. Vincent is back at work on the cypresses, and it all has changed so much. He intended this Painting to go to Albert Aurier, the author of one of the very first reviews of his work, in January, 1890, in appreciation. In it, he called Vincent a worthy successor to the seventeenth-century Dutch masters10. This work speaks volumes of what that meant to him.

After the June whirlwind, cypresses continued in his work, as we see in the remainder of Part II, then in Part III, they almost completely and suddenly disappear.

The final wall shows that by the end of his time in the asylum, in spite of all he had endured, Vincent had indeed created his own style.

The Landscapes in the final gallery are more varied, before the final work brings it all to a rousing climax.

A Walk at Twilight, May, 1890. The penultimate work in the show is a fresh and daring approach to early evening. All the trees, including the cypresses, appear to be vibrating as if trying to shake free of form. The cypresses, though, are now ancillary in the background.

In his Letters while he was there, Vincent speaks about wishing he could stay in the asylum. SOMEHOW, in spite of it everything, he managed to create 150 Paintings, including some of the great masterpieces in Western Art, as I said, while he was there. Then, in May, 1890 he left. Two full months later, he would be dead.

A Walk at Twilight, May, 1890. A cypress stands smack in the middle in an evening work that harkens back to The Starry Night from 11 months earlier, possibly proving that perhaps Vincent didn’t think it was such a “failure” after all. Painted 2 months before his death, it’s a work that can be read in any number of ways. For me, it may be the summation of Vincent’s achievement as a Painter and innovator.

By all accounts Vincent van Gogh was extremely hard to get along with, especially for any length of time. He drank too much. He smoked too much. He was obsessive about everything he cared about and he cared about a good many things. He could be intensely argumentative in defense of what he believed. He had a LOT of trouble finding love, or even real & lasting friendships, and on and on…Then, there’s his Art.

Self-Portrait with a Straw Hat, 1887, my personal favorite work in entirety of The Met, Painted on the raw, unprimed side of the canvas (because he had already Painted on the primed side and apparently couldn’t afford more canvas), which adds to the unique texture of the work. I’ve looked at it countless times over quite a few decades now and every time I see it, I marvel at its unique way of seeing the world. Interestingly, no Self-Portraits are included in the show. This was seen on September 15, 2018 in the Permanent Collection galleries.

“As for himself, he said, ‘as a painter I shall never amount to anything important, I am absolutely sure of it11.”

Vincent was a very astute observer of Art and Artists even before becoming a Painter. So, it’s odd he was so wrong about his own Art. Still, here’s the thing I can NEVER get past-

Beginning at the incredibly late age of 27, Vincent’s Art career lasted exactly TEN YEARS from July, 1880 to July, 1890!12
His entire Painting career lasted barely NINE YEARS, from 1881 to July, 1890!

The fact that one could ask the impossible to answer question “Is The Starry Night the greatest Painting ever?,” as I posited earlier, and have it taken seriously regardless of the outcome, shows me how utterly remarkable what Vincent van Gogh’s accomplished in one decade is. Painters as diverse as Francis Bacon and David Hockney, both astute, lifelong students of Art history, consider him to have been right up there with the very greatest Painters who ever lived! Far be it from me to argue with them, but that they would consider someone who Painted for 10 years in those terms is hard to imagine. The approximately 2,100 Artworks he created, including about 860 Paintings are extraordinary- if only for their stylistic diversity as I’ve found looking at them for 40 years13.

In 2018, I wrote a piece wondering what Vincent would make of his popularity today. For someone who lived without anyone in his life, and so little acceptance & love THIS level of both- worldwide- would have to be both the ultimate irony, and completely overwhelming.

With all he had to face- isolation, loneliness, fights with his parents14, illness, poverty, years of struggle and rejection attempting to find his way in various occupations, and everything else- though a good deal of it (if not all) he brought on himself (could anything make him more human?)- before becoming a beginner Artist at 27(!), HOW is it possible he was able to overcome ALL of it to create many of the most beloved works of Art in the world, including a good many while in an insane asylum?

The only answer I’ve found is that he loved Painting THAT much. No matter what, no matter everything I’ve delineated above, and everything else I haven’t- he overcame ALL of it by Painting.

It just boggles my mind.

*-Soundtrack for his piece is “World of Pain” by Gail Collins & Felix Pappalardi and recorded by Cream on Disraeli Gears, 1967.

 

(A “Postscript: My Journey to Vincent” follows below, or may be seen here.)

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  1. Each lives on in terrific catalogs, which are all highly recommended. ↩
  2. David Hockney on Vincent van Gogh. ↩
  3. Vincent’s time with Seurat, Paul Signac, Emile Bernard and Charles Angrand in Asnières, a Parisian suburb, which directly precedes the period of Cypresses, was the subject of a fascinating show at the Art Institute of Chicago concurrent with, but otherwise not connected to, Van Gogh’s Cypresses ↩
  4. on February 4, 1890, per vangoghletters.org ↩
  5. In Van Gogh: The Life, the authors, Stephen Naifeh and Gregory White Smith, correlate Vincent’s attacks with the level of stress & strain he was under. ↩
  6. Van Gogh: The Life, P.704 ↩
  7. and having the 3rd attack since December on February 26, 1890 per vangoghletters.org ↩
  8. As I’ve written, it’s endlessly puzzling how MoMA can spent 2 BILLION dollars on renovations this century and apparently never consider where they are going to display their most popular pieces- particularly The Starry Night, which has continually been relocated often without ever finding the “perfect” spot. ↩
  9. Van Gogh: The Life, P. 784 ↩
  10. Here ↩
  11. Van Gogh: The Life, P.743 ↩
  12. Like that of Jean-Michel Basquiat. ↩
  13. Just page through a copy of Van Gogh: The Complete Paintings, one of my Desert Island Art Books, to see for yourself, the “Brick” edition is about $25. new. ↩
  14. His mother, Anna Carbentus, who had Painted and gave him his first Drawing lessons, and who survived him by about 17 years to 1907, 2 years after the first big Van Gogh show mounted by Jo, never warmed to his Art (Van Gogh: The Life, P.795). ↩

Postscript: My Journey to Vincent 

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

This is a postscript to my piece Van Gogh’s Cypresses: Art From Hell

“How will I know you when I see you
In the brightness of light”*

WHO are you, Vincent? Staring out at us with that laser beam-like gaze it almost seems like he could speak to us and tell us. If only getting closer to him were only that easy… A Self-Portrait on the back cover of Van Gogh: The Complete Paintings. Click any photo for full size.

As I said, I’ve been looking at Van Gogh’s Art for over 40 years. It’s taken almost as long to get closer to the man. Like many, perhaps, most people interested in Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890), I read Irving Stone’s Lust for Life, and Dear Theo (which Stone, who never knew him, gallingly subtitled Vincent’s “Autobiography,”) and later saw the famous Film, Lust for Life, starring Kirk Douglas as Vincent, which was set in some of the actual sites. I bought it all as gospel. I read, but downplayed, the part where Mr. Stone mentioned that he had “made up” episodes to fill the gaps (paraphrased from recollection. I no longer have his books).

My collection of 45 Van Gogh postcards, bought in the early 1970s for 10 cents a piece. They served me well until I got a book on his work years later. Almost every single one depicts a work I hadn’t seen in person because they are in European collections, except for The Met’s Lilacs, in the lower left. Also included is Gauguin’s Portrait of Vincent, lower right. Two would appear in Van Gogh’s Cypresses decades later.

Captivated when I saw Vincent’s Art in The Met and MoMA on my very first Art museum visits as a young teen in the early 1970s, I bought 45 picture postcards from both at 10 cents each because they showed work I hadn’t seen. Most were from the new Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam. I was intrigued, and it didn’t go away.

My set of The Complete Letters of Vincent van Gogh edited by Jo van Gogh Bonger, a later printing I’ve kept in its original open shrink wrap to protect the slip case. She first published her edition in 1914.

In the 1980s, I was gifted the 3-volume set of Vincent’s Letters, a set that happened to be edited by Jo van Gogh Bonger, wife of Vincent’s brother, Theo, for a year and a half before he died 6 months after Vincent. She inherited Vincent’s estate (i.e. his Art & discovered his Letters in Theo’s desk), but having no experience with Art, didn’t know what to do with it. After delving into the material, she realized that Vincent’s Letters, most of the surviving ones to Theo, were the key to getting people interested in his Art. She edited & published them, put together a large show of his work in 1905, and worked passionately to get his Art seen, even making a trip to the U.S. to assess prospects here.

Jo’s Preface to The Complete Letters, 1914, reproduced in my later printing. It’s one of the most remarkable accomplishments in Art history that, with no knowledge or background in Art, she was able to find a way to present Vincent so the world would “get” him, making him one of the world’s most popular Artists in the process. In so doing, she influenced how Artists have been presented to the public ever since.

I didn’t know any of that at the time I got her set. In it, I began to see that Irving Stone was selling fiction. So was the Film! Reading his own words, as Jo well knew, the real man came vividly to life in his exceptional prose. Vincent’s Letters are among the most compelling of any Artist yet published.

How’s this for “closer to Vincent?” Detail from The Starry Night, 1889, in Van Gogh’s Cypresses, shot without a zoom lens, as close as the guards would allow (a safe distance). Yin/Yang, maybe?

“How will lI know you when I see you
In the bareness of spring
I will know you by starlight
where the road’s echoes sing”*
“Many years passed before Vincent was recognized as a great painter,” Jo writes. She omits the fact that it was she that got him that status in the world. Jo van Gogh-Bonger put me, and countless millions before and after me, on the road to knowing Vincent better. If you love Vincent’s Art, you owe her your thanks. Thank you, Jo!

Van Gogh: The Letters, the Van Gogh Museum’s exceptional 5-volume set includes extensive annotations and many illustrations. Now sold out, it’s all available online, where it is updated as new information becomes available. One of my Desert Island Art Books. *- Van Gogh Museum Photo

The problem was that Vincent’s 902 Letters only cover part of his life, the earliest dating from September, 1872, when he was 19. Others have undoubtedly gotten lost over time, and some things were withheld by the family. Also in the 1980s, I saw 2 excellent Van Gogh shows at The Met, as I mentioned, Van Gogh in Arles and Saint-Rémy and Van Gogh in Auvres. and then the Drawings in 2005, each of which brought me even closer to Vincent’s Art. For those that missed them, the catalogs for each show are excellent and full of great information.

Bringing Vincent into closer focus. My copy of Van Gogh: The Life, just after I bought it new. I’ve raved about it repeatedly. Though it contains 958 pages, the footnotes are to be found on the book’s website. It will remain the definitive biography for at least the immediate future.

In 2011, the landmark 958-page exhaustively researched biography, Van Gogh: The Life by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith was published along with the equally exhaustively researched & annotated five-volume set of Van Gogh’s Letters, both with the cooperation of the Van Gogh Museum and Foundation, which exists due to Jo, and then her & Theo’s son, Vincent Wilhelm Van Gogh, who donated Vincent’s Estate to the Dutch state who, in return, built the Museum. 

Vincent was a very astute lover of Art, with a cutting eye that quickly got to the essence of a piece, or Artist, under his consideration.Tthe new Van Gogh and the Artists He Loved, by Van Gogh: The Life’s co-author, Steven Naifeh’s, is an in-depth look at a subject that no one has covered, until now.

I wasn’t able to put Van Gogh: The Life down. It not only brings Vincent to life on an as close to a day-to-day basis as we’ve yet had, it takes the reader inside his thinking & decisions, his unceasing misfortunes & pain, and then, his illness. One of the most extraordinary biographies I’ve ever read, it completely rewrites our understanding of Vincent’s life and, quite controversially, his death. The Life is essential reading for anyone interested in Art1 or Vincent Van Gogh, in my view. This past year, The Life’s co-author, Steven Naifeh, published Van Gogh and the Artists He Loved, an in-depth look at Vincent’s life-long obsession with Art & Artists, which provides fascinating insights into his exceptional taste and the influences of other Artists on his work. 

Van Gogh: The Complete Paintings. In my view, any Van Gogh library begins here. Is it perfect? No. I dream of a book of just all the Paintings, each printed at optimal size on one page with details on the facing page. That’s not meant to denigrate the text, which has held up well. Still, all the Paintings are printed in color and the book lists for $25.00! Possibly the greatest value in Art books today.  This is the small, “Brick” size. Taschen has published a number of larger sizes, but has not released an XXL edition. No one else has published a Complete Van Gogh as far as I know. Its place on my Desert Island Art Books list was automatic.

“Walking by the sea
See the names floating by
Trying to find each other’s
Trails in the sky”*

All of this shows that over 133 years after Vincent’s passing researchers, authors and Art historians have continued to set the record straight and bring the world closer to the man and his life. Given all the “loose ends” that remain in his biography, I look forward to future discoveries & revelations that will bring us still closer.

The case that Vincent committed suicide and wasn’t murdered is not open and shut in my book.

Among those, I fervently hope the mystery around his death that Van Gogh: The Life reveals can be finally settled and the man left to rest in peace.

“How will I love you when I know you
In the greyness of mist
I will love you forever
Where sadness has kissed.”*

*- Soundtrack for this piece is “Folk Song” by Jack Bruce from his classic album Harmony Row, 1971. Which makes me realize I’ve been looking at Vincent for almost 50 years…

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  1. Providing insights in to how he was able to succeed as an Artist though he began at age 27! ↩