Musicians

The “Other” Russian Revolution

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

“I’m back in the USSR
You don’t know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR”*

There was that “big” one…you know…the one that was in all the papers over here one hundred years ago, in 1917 – The “October Revolution,” or the “Russian Revolution.” Whatever you call it, 9 million people died in 5 years, and it resulted in the loss of freedom for countless more millions over the next 74 years, I’m no historian or political writer, but I hear it’s been fading in importance for quite a while now. While that one caused a big stir, meanwhile, off in what was then a quiet, small town (a city of 350,000 today) in the eastern U.S.S.R. (Belarus today), the seeds of another revolution were beginning to sprout. No one was killed in that one, as far as I know. The instigator of a good deal of it is a world famous Artist now, who, though a pioneer of modernism, is not often thought of as a revolutionary.

Today, he’s famous for flying lovers.

Marc Chagall is the most famous native son of that small town- Vitebsk, Belarus. In the early days after the “October Revolution” he accepted the Post of “Commissar of Visual Arts” for Vitebsk. He then founded the Vitebsk Arts College, and in 1919 invited a number of Artists to be its teachers. Among them were Kazimir Malevich, El Lissitzky and Yehuda Pen. Kazimir Malevich would soon become the fountainhead of a movement that crystalized in a group named “UNOVIS” ( or “Exponents of the New Art”), who, in the spirit of the larger revolution, shared credit for the works they created. At the core of this movement was Malevich’s “Suprematism,” a style of work that focused on basic geometric forms and colors, in the service of “pure artistic feeling.” This put him (stylistically) directly at odds with Chagall, who was, at heart, a classicist…

“On The Fence, #2: El We-sit-ski.” Click any image to enlarge, if you dare..

and when Lissitzky, who was on the fence between both camps (sorry!), sided with Malevich, Chagall soon left the school to continue his career elsewhere. 100 years later, Suprematism and the Russian Avant-Garde is still growing in importance and appreciation, as was plain to see in MoMA’s recent exhibition, “A Revolutionary Impulse: The Rise of the Russian Avant-Garde,” 1915-1932,  which featured, and grew out of, Malevich’s “Suprematism” movement. MoMA’s show, consisting exclusively of works from its own collection, is NOT to be confused with a show of a very similar title, “Revolution: Russian Art 1917-1932,” running concurrently at the Royal Academy, London, which included quite a few loans from Russia. While the show, and the movement, includes filmmakers, poets and other visual Artists, I’m focusing on the Painters, Photographers and Graphic Artists included. Many are, surprisingly, multi-threats (i.e. multi-talented). To quote MoMA about these Artists, they were “a group who was fed up with form, the way the “other” revolutionaries were fed up with 300 years of Czarist rule and decided to throw it all out, so to speak, and start over from the basics, giving a new hierarchy to basic forms, and basic (or non) colors, like black and white. (i.e. Suprematism. )1” Stalin’s 1933 decree led to the banishment of the Avant-Garde, in favor of “socialist realism,” which has already been forgotten, as we approach the 100th anniversary of the “Russian Revolution.”

While Chagall, himself, was not included in MoMA’s show (though he was in the Royal Academy’s), the headline highlight was an extremely rare opportunity to see so many works from MoMA’s incomparable (in the West) collection of Kazimir Malevich, the brilliant visionary who died only a few years after the period this show covers ends, 1932, passing in 1935 at 57. That New Yorkers are lucky enough to enjoy this superb collection is due to the foresight of another legend, Alfred H. Barr, Jr, MoMA’s first Director, who in 1929 had the prescience to secure many of Malevich’s works.

Shots across the bow of painting. An entire wall of rarely seen works by Kazimir Malevich, that are at the crux of the Revolution, featuring  “Suprematist Composition: White on White,” 1918, considered his masterpiece, center.

Close-up with Malevich’s “Suprematist Composition: White on White,” 1918.

At 26, in 1927-28, Mr. Barr went to Moscow, where he wrote in his diary, “Apparently, there is is no place where talent of artistic or literary sort is so carefully nurtured as in Moscow. Would rather be here than any place on earth.” This trip stayed with Barr when a year later he became the founding director of MoMA, as part of his vision of MoMA as a lab of critical inquiry analysis and communication1. MoMA went on to compile one of the most outstanding collections of Russian Modern Art outside of Russia under his stewardship, which lasted until 1969, part of which is on view in the 8+ galleries of this surprisingly large, and excellent, show. While I am showing selected highlights, you can see Installation Views and get a different idea of the experience towards the bottom of MoMA’s page for the show, here. To get an idea of the ongoing importance of Mr. Barr’s choices, while I was standing in front of what many consider Malevich’s Masterpiece, “White on White,“ 1918, complete strangers to each other had a moment after each posed for pictures in what they both announced was their “very favorite painting,” 99 years after its creation.

Two total strangers explain to each other why this Malevich is their “very favorite painting of all time.”

A case of early books by Malevich, including “Suprematism: 34 Drawings,” 1920, published by UNOVIS, Vitebsk, left.

Remarkable insights to genius. 4 charts Malevich made as visual aids for his European “Introductions to Suprematism” Lectures.

This blows my mind, so I’m showing a closer view of it. In this chart, we get an incredibly rare insight into how a founder of an Artistic movement (how many of them are there?) sees Art. We get to look over his shoulder as he recaps the development of Modern Art through Cubism and Futurism to Suprematism.

As impressive as Malevich’s works are, which is equalled by the ongoing importance of his ideas, for me the show’s biggest revelation came in two words- El Lissitzky. A student of Yehuda Pen’s at age 13, he then studied to become an Architect, before Chagall’s call summoned him to Vitebsk. There, he became convinced by Malevich (who he had known previously), and this led him to create “Suprematist” works that remain both fresh and incredibly inventive today.

Visionary, and then some. In 1920, UNOVIS staged a utopian opera in Vitebsk titled “Victory Over the Sun.” El Lissiztky created these designs for abstract, electromechanical dolls for it, which were never realized. Seen are 5 Lithographs from a set of 11 he did titled “Figurines: 3 Dimensional Design of the Electro-Mechanical Show ‘Victory Over the Sun,'” 1921.

MoMA owns the only complete copy known of what may be Lissitzky’s masterpiece, “Proun,” from 1920, a Portfolio of 11 lithographs, published in Vitebsk. MoMA’s curator called it a “project for the affirmation of the new.1” The exact definition of “Proun” is not known, or lost to us, but the work itself explores the creative possibilities of Malevich’s theories in startling, and beautiful, (yes, beautiful) ways.

3 photos above- El Lissiztky, “Proun,” 1920, a Portfolio of 11 lithographs, who’s title is untranslatable now. A masterpiece of invention & design, seen in the only complete set that includes the covers (top), detail of 4 prints, center, and the translation of its manifesto, bottom.

While his work is, strangely & unfortunately, absent from MoMA’s fine and surprisingly large show, behind the scenes looms the over-looked Artist, Yehuda Pen. Teacher of both Marc Chagall and El Lissitzky, his work is brilliant in its own right, to my eyes, though different from that of either of his students. Pen went on to teach at Chagall’s School, alongside Malevich, and Lissitzky.

The great Artist & Teacher Yehuda Pen, center, with friends in 1922.

Yehuda Pen’s studio in 1917, a few years after he taught El Lissitzky.

“Portrait of Marc Chagall,” circa 1915, by Yehuda Pen. More of his work is here.

Along with El Lissitzky, Aleksandr Rodchenko, impresses, on a number of fronts, including his attitude- ”I reduced painting to its logical conclusion,” he said, speaking of his three monochrome paintings- “Pure Red Color, Pure Yellow Color, and Pure Blue Color” in 1921, “I affirmed: it’s all over. Basic Colors. Every plane is a plane and there is to be no more representation4.”

Oh yeah? Rodchenko “Non-Objective Painting no. 80 (Black on Black),” 1918, his “answer” to Malevich’s square “White on White.”

Wow. Luckily, 96 years later, painting, itself can quote Mark Twain: “The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” thank goodness! I’m left to wonder what was in Rodchenko’s Borscht. Having buried his paintbrush, he got into Photography after buying a camera in Paris in 1925, four years after declaring the death of painting. He turned out to be a naturally gifted Photographer, a medium he never formally “studied.” His photography has, also, remained influential ever since.

Avant-Realism? Rodchenko “Pro eto. Ei i men (About This. To Her and to Me),” 1923, showing off his unique approach to photography, and graphic design.

There was a lot to see over 8+ galleries, in spite of the fact there was only one work by Kandinsky on view. It would have been most welcome to see more, but I never missed them, thanks to the many works by Rodchenko, and Lissitzky, who’s Photography was also shown, proving that he was, like Rodchenko, a very gifted (and underrated) Artist in that medium, too.

Remember my name (well, it’s there over the “XYZ”). El Lissiztky was, also, a naturally gifted Photographer. This amazing “Self Portrait,” 1924, Gelatin silver print, was made using SIX exposures.

Other Artists impressed, too (Lyubov Popova, Vladimir Tatlin and Olga Rozanova among them), yet regardless of how impressive this show was, more importantly, the names of many of the Artists on view have been increasingly coming from the lips of today’s important Artists, including Nasreen Mohamedi, here, William Kentridge, and the late, great Architect, Zaha Hadid, who speaks about Malevich, here. Also, amazingly, the legacy lives on in Vitebsk, Belarus, something that astounds me given that the biggest battle of World War II, and possibly EVER fought, was fought in Belarus, with monumental horrific fighting in Vitebsk. Chagall’s former School, after somehow miraculously surviving, has been renovated and is to reopen as the Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School later this year. Below is a photo of the restored building, courtesy of myrecentdiscoveries.com, the International Marc Chagall researchers, who visited the building, and wrote about its new life, here. A photo of its new lobby, which appears to pays homage to Malevich, can be seen here.

The Revolution Happened Here. Miraculously, Chagall’s School in Vitebsk, Belarus, survived the biggest battle ever fought, while everything around it was destroyed. Malevich, Lissitzky, Pen & Chagall taught here. UNOVIS was founded here. its being remodeled and reopened as the Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School! Photo by, and courtesy of myrecentdiscoveries.com

They were kind enough to also put me in contact with the Director of the Vitebsk Modern Art Center, Andrey Duhovnikov, which includes the new Museum, above, and who is also an Artist in his own right. I asked Mr. Duhovnikov about whether UNOVIS will be represented in the new Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School. He told me, “There will be 12 thematic sections, two of which will be dedicated to UNOVIS, where archival documents will be presented.” I’m not surprised by this. Chagall and Malevich’s influence & memory live on in Vitebsk, a city that continues to hold celebrations to mark anniversaries of milestone events, like the 100th Anniversary of Chagall’s wedding in 2015. In response to my question about whether Yehuda Pen is being forgotten, Mr. Duhovnikov explained that Yehuda Pens’ work is too fragile to travel, which prevents it from being better known outside of Belarus, however over 180 works by Pen can be seen today at the Vitebsk Art Museum, and a Museum dedicated to Pen is being discussed. Good news, indeed.

The process whereby Art goes from “Contemporary,” or “Modern,” to “Art” is endlessly fascinating to me as I look at what Artists are creating now, and wonder- “What, if ANY of this, will be considered Art one day?” Certainly influencing major Artists who come after (like Nasreen Mohamedi, William Kentridge, and Zaha Hadid) plays a part in that, so do visionaries, like Alfred Barr, who had the foresight to hand pick 21 works from Malevich’s 1927 Retrospective for MoMA, thereby giving countless future generations, including mine, the chance to see these works in shows like this one, (which is MoMA “showing off,” a bit, like The Met did with “Unfinished“). But, also, in there quietly working away are others, like Mr. Duhovnikov, and his associates, who feel and recognize the value & importance of the work, and are dedicated to sharing it, and making sure this legacy endures to influence more generations.

That’s how “Revolution” becomes evolution, and “Art History.”

My thanks to myrecentdiscoveries.com and Andrey Duhovnikov for their assistance.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Back in the USSR,” by John Lennon & Paul McCartney, published by Sony/ATV Music Publishing.

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 the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  2. From the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  3. From the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  4. //www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/1998/rodchenko/texts/death_of_painting.html ↩

Henry Taylor Is Having A New York Moment

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 (*- unless otherwise credited)

Either the Artist has a great representative, the Force is strong with him, or the powers that be in the Art World have magically combined as they rarely seem to, and at the same moment, to give us something unusual here- Multiple high-profile venues simultaneously featuring the work of the same (deserving) Artist. Or? Maybe it’s a coincidence. Or? Maybe they just agree- his time is now.

Wish you were here. Henry Taylor, wearing shades underwater, in his The Floaters, 2017 the  latest High Line Mural Commission just after it’s completion in mid-March. Click to enlarge.

Whichever one it is, “his time” came on March 17, when on the same day, Henry Taylor’sThe Floaters, was unveiled as the latest High Line Mural Commission, at West 22nd Street, AND multiple paintings by Mr. Taylor were debuting as the Whitney Biennial opened, the largest, right out in front of the 6th Floor elevator, where it leads to an entire gallery of his work, in dialogue with the wonderful photographer, Deana Lawson, both of whom shine in this Biennial, to my eyes.

Almost ready for his close-up. The Floaters seen with rigging used to paint it as it nears completion last month.

Mr. Taylor’s piece strikes me as, possibly, “one upping” the High Line by showing himself doing something none of the the High Line’s 5 million visitors can do- submerging themselves in a swimming pool. Very L.A. Well? L.A. is where he lives. Touche. His summery The Floaters, the first sign of the coming of spring in Manhattan, couldn’t be more in contrast to Barbara Kruger’s Untitled (Blind Idealism…), 2016, which occupied the same wall for the past year.

Barbara Kruger’sUntitled (Blind Idealism…), 2016,” seen in March, where it followed no less than Kerry James Marshall’s Mural (which you can watch actually being painted, here).

If you walk down the High Line to it’s southern terminus, you’ve arrived at the Whitney Museum, where Mr. Taylor’s Ancestors of Ghenghis Khan with Black Man on Horse, 2015-17, greets you as you step off the elevator on 6.

The elevator doors open on the 6th Floor at the Whitney Biennial. Seen in full below.

“Welcome to the 2017 Whitney Biennial,” indeed.

Ancestors of Ghenghis Khan with Black Man on Horse, 2015-17, at the 2017 Whitney Biennial.

Originally, the Whitney Biennial was a painting show, so I’m glad to see exciting, recent work by Henry Taylor, Dana Schutz, Kaya, Aliza Nisenbaum,  Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Frances Stark, and Jo Baer included among a plethora of video and only a handful of Photographers. Painting has a long history of expressing the inexpressible, as well as capturing the moment, and there’s been a lot going on in these recent moments, to be sure. Following in the footsteps of Goya’s The Third of May 1808, on down, Mr. Taylor’s THE TIMES THEY AIN’T A CHANGING, FAST ENOUGH!, 2017 is one of the most powerful paintings (seen here with it’s accompanying card) I’ve seen at this Biennial, along with Open Casket, by Ms. Schutz and Censorship Now, by Ms. Stark.

 

 

THE TIMES THEY AIN’T is based on a video, and is an image we are, perhaps, more used to seeing from PhotoJournalists, than in a painting, yet, it’s precedent is right there in Art History, in Goya, and countless others. Though there are similarities between the two Paintings, Mr. Taylor’s work is uniquely his own, especially as he depicts an inner space (a recurring theme, in this case, the back seat of a car), being intruded upon and violated, fatally. Portraiture is what he seems to be most known for, and he brings this extensive knowledge of Art History (as Kerry James Marshall does) to his portraits as well, sometimes playfully, sometimes as a jumping off point, as in his 2007 portrait of Eldridge Clever, which takes Whistler’s Mother, of all things, as it’s basis.

Mr. Taylor is an Artist who’s work has a range (from the humor of The Floaters, to the life & death of THE TIMES THEY AIN’T, to scenes from home life, below), which prevent him from being slotted as being any one thing beyond “Artist.” His work, even his portraits, often seems to have a landscape feel to it- there’s an element of space- inside, outside (or both, in The Floaters,), or personal space, in many of his works, and, of course, race is an overriding theme. His is, also, a shining example of the relevance of Painting in Contemporary Art (as is the work of the Painters I mentioned above, among others), a medium that some question the value of every so often. As Kerry James Marshall has, Henry Taylor is another Artist who is putting black faces onto Museum walls, and possibly, bringing new audiences to them to see their work.

The 4th, 2012-17, by Henry Taylor. It’s interesting to compare this with Kerry James Marshall’s painting of the same subject seen a few months ago.

While his “15 Minutes of Fame,” will come to an end when the Biennial closes on June 11 and The Floaters gives way to the next High Line Commission in March, 2018, his work isn’t going anywhere. As in- anywhere away from public view, any time soon. Even here, in “tar beach.”

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “I Love L.A.,” by Randy Newman.

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.

R.I.P. James Rosenquist- American Master

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 (*- unless otherwise credited)

I was saddened to learn of the passing of the great James Rosenquist today at age 83. One of the greatest American Painters of the Post World War II era, he began as an outdoor Billboard painter (from 1957-1960). Ever since I first learned that, I’ve paid attention to the few that are still hand painted. I always stop and take a photo of them when a new ad is in progress, partly out of fascination at the death defying skill involved, and because they are wonderfully abstract before they’re finished. I actually took this photo on West 34th Street earlier this afternoon, before I learned of his passing, of one of the few outdoor billboards that are still hand-painted. Fittingly, it was unfinished. I post it in homage.

I shot this unfinished, hand painted Billboard at West 34th & 8th Avenue this afternoon, before I heard James Rosenquist, who began as a billboard painter, had passed. Fittingly abstract. Click any image to enlarge.

Mr. Rosenquist’s Retrosective at the Guggenheim in 2004 was a spectacle that overwhelmed the eyes and the senses. I lived with this on a smaller scale, (though too large for my small space), after I bought a set of 7 prints by Mr. Rosenquist, another example of which was in the Guggenheim extravaganza. The title of the series, “High Technology and Mysticism: A Meeting Point,” proved tantalizing and inspired endless speculation. Typicaly, they  were so large, (each 34 x 33 inches) that I could only hang one at a time.

“The” by James Rosenquist, 1981, limited edition print (set of 7) based on his photography.

Each print is titled by hand with a one word title. Together the 7 titles form the “poem,” or haiku,- “Somewhere Above The Sky Silverbirds Fly Somewhere.” In the Rosenquist Print Catalog by Glenn, Mr. Rosenquist says of them- “It was the first thing I had ever done that was solely photographic. I went to unusual lengths to take photographs. I was specifically trying to sandwich negatives together to bring about a certain look, a certain thing that I wanted through this photo process…I went to study where technology was illustrated, in libraries and other places. I went to hospitals to see how it all related to the human being. I went all over the place to see the sources of imagery from technology and find out what it had to do with so-called art. So, I came up with these strange shapes, DNA symbols, electrical circuits.”

“Fly,” From the same series, 1981.

When you look at these works, bear in mind that Adobe Photoshop was first released in 1990- nine years after Mr. Rosenquist created these remarkable images. Yes, he created these works that reference “high technology,” without actually USING high technology. How fitting to Post, and revisit, these now when they serve as, both, my personal remembrance of this great Artist, and because my head has been buried in Contemporary Photography.

And “Somewhere,” ditto. Where have you seen anything similar? Even Mr. Rosenquist never worked in this style again.

James Rosenquist hasn’t received as much attention (it seems to me) as his contemporaries Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein or Robert Rauschenberg (who’s Retrospective is set to open at MoMA next month and sure to be a blockbuster). He was an Artist who never stopped growing, and neither did the size of his work. I loved that about it, almost as much as I marveled at his powers of invention. Originally dubbed a “pop artist,” by those who need some sort of crutch (bear that in mind when you read his Obituaries that try to put him in that box), Mr. Rosenquist’s work quickly grew beyond categories. And stayed there. One only had to see the final huge gallery of his most recent work at the Guggenheim show to feel overwhelmed at the size and scale of his vision, and marvel at them. It’s something very, very few Artists, especially Painters have matched.

That scale, and the daring of his vision are what I will miss most. “Sail on, Silverbird…”*

I think I’ll remember James Rosenquist as he is seen in the front of the Guggenheim Retrospective Catalog, in my signed copy.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” by Paul Simon, published by Universal Music Publishing Group.

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.

AIPAD SnapShots: The Photographers- Jim Jocoy

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 (*- unless otherwise credited)

This is the second of my Series of 4 Posts on “The Photography Show, 2017,” aka “AIPAD.”  This part is a close up of one of the Photographers I encountered at the show, Jim Jocoy. More soon…

“…no hard chords on the car radio we set the trash on fire and watch
outside the door men come up the pavement under the marquee
there’s laughing outside we’re locked outside the public eye…”*

If you love Rock n Roll, and/or great Photography, Jim Jocoy is a name you should know. That’s easy for me to say now. Up until Thursday at 3pm, I had never heard of him.

Then, aiding me in my recent efforts to get up to speed on the world of Contemporary Photography, Paul Schiek, Owner of TBW Books, one of the most respected imprints in the PhotoBook world, handed me a copy of “Order of Appearance,” TBW’s just released collection of his 1977-1980 punk rock photos. It’s only Mr. Jocoy’s second book after the initial collection of his work from this period, 2002’s “We’re Desperate,” which included an interview with the Photographer by Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, and a preface by Designer Marc Jacobs. It’s now a collector’s item going for $300.00 and up online.

One look through “Order of Appearance” and I was mezmerized.

Having been a musician in a band on the road at the same time Mr. Jocoy has immortalized, though on the East Coast, while was he busy on the West Coast, I’d lived through this, too, but only seen photos that captured both the essence of what it was like as well as the moments that defined the scene in the extraordinary shots taken by the late, great Bruce Conner, some on view at MoMA this past year, as I mentioned, here.

Until now.

Speaking with him a few hours later, Mr. Jocoy told me actually saw Bruce Conner in the clubs quite often, and came to know him, but, he said that he never once saw Bruce Conner with a camera! In fact, he initially thought he was just an odd guy who danced funny.

Jim Jocoy’s “Order of Appearance,” a brand-new release from TBW Books, features a cover design by Paul Schiek that lifted the black lines of a design on a shirt worn in the book and placed it on top of one of a statue in true punk fashion. Click any image to enlarge.

As I looked through “Order of Appearance,” I was struck by the thought that here, Mr. Jocoy has gone even Bruce Conner one better. He captures more of what it was like, taking you, on, but also off stage, and back stage, and only he knows where else, continually providing the feeling that you are right there- seeing things that only happen late at night when there’s an excess of excess, except that you also happen to be a terrific photographer, so indescribable moments that no one who wasn’t there would ever believe happened, are magically frozen in time for you, at the “peak of their freshness” as they say. The resulting body of work, hidden away in Mr. Jocoy’s archives for these past almost 40 years (or, “locked outside the public eye,” as X sings in “The Unheard Music,” on their album “Los Angeles,” I quoted up top) is many things- a work that captures a musical and social movement in time, and, as I was to find out a short while later when the Photographer, himself, gave me a guided walk-through of the book, a very personal remembrance for him, as a number of those pictured are no longer with us. Yet, Mr. Jocoy turned this precious body of work over to Paul Schiek and Lester Rosso of TBW who then created this book out of it. Mr Schiek, in addition to being the Owner/Publisher of TBW Books is also a Photographer of renown in his own right, and so was a serendipitous collaborator for this project, bringing the sensitivity only a fellow Artist could bring to the project, and the results are stunning, often down right uncanny.

I was so much older then. Jim Jocoy poses with a 1980 Portrait of his 37 years younger self!

Right from the first image in the book.

Muriel Cervenka with bruised knees. Photo by Jim Jocoy, the first image in “Order of Appearance.”

Mr. Jocoy explained to me that this lady, sitting next to a road case that once belonged to dancer Twyla Tharp, and who’s knees are bruised in this photo (as a dancer’s might be), and who’s feet look like they are “on pointe” in her red shoes, no less, is Muriel Cervenka, the sister of Exene of the band “X.” Muriel was killed in a hit and run just days after this photo was taken, and on the night of X’s debut for their first album, “Los Angeles.” What a unique photo it is- I’ve never seen a “portrait” like it- in Paint or in a Photo. Exene actually went on just after getting the news, he told me. While that adds incaclulable levels of poignancy to seeing it, the fact that it was placed first by Messers Schiek & Rosso, where it sets a tone for the rest of the book’s three sections astonished me.

Already, I knew this was a special book.

As he continued, reminiscing with such immediacy that I felt like these things had happened this past week, the passing images were equally remarkable, whether they were of members of bands I’d heard of, or not, or people who just happened to be there, including Allen Ginsberg. I felt that many of the portraits in this book were “ideal” portraits- THE image someone would want to be remembered by. They encapsulated them so well, you got a sense of who they were, though they’re total strangers to me, and probably most of us. Mr. Jocoy seems to have been everywhere at once, but no matter where he is, his personal connection to everything in this book takes it light years beyond being a party book, or even an amazing document of the time and a moment in music and culture, to make it a beautiful & moving personal testament, and all of that is what makes it special1. And, did I mention that Jim Jocoy is, also, one of the nicest guys you will ever have the pleasure to meet?

“Woman reclining on car,” 1977. Something similar happened to me, and only lives in my memory. Luckily, Jim Jocoy beautifully captured his for the ages.

Then we spoke about that passage of time. I asked him about these slides sitting in his archives for so long. He mentioned looking at them a little while after he took them and feeling they were good, and they “would still be good,” after even more time passed. Well now, almost FORTY YEARS have passed, and these images are not just “good.” They’re very, very good, and as lovingly presented as they are in “Order of Appearance?”

“D.N.A. and Sharon,” a miraculous double exposure that every other bass player on earth, starting with me, is jealous of. Sharon was lying on the street, which you can barely make out. Sorry for the poor pic- I didn’t want to open my book too far.

“Guy passed out,” 1978. If this doesn’t sum the whole thing up, perfectly, I don’t know what does. My photo is poor, so pick up a copy and see it in all it’s glory.

“Friends in a Gold Car,” 1978, by Jim Jocoy.

With only 1,000 copies printed, I think it’s destined to be as sought after as “We’re Desperate” is now.

Book Artists. Paul Schiek, Owner of TBW Books, left, with Lester Rosso, Program Director, designers of “Order of Appearance,” with the finished book, the poster for it, and some of Jim’s work at AIPAD.

Don’t take my word for Mr. Jocoy’s talent. No less than that huge fan of rock n roll, Shepard Fairey, used one of Jim Jocoy’s other images, his classic shot of Sid Vicious, in an Obey Giant print in 2004 called “Sid Jocoy.”

Jim Jocoy’s now iconic Polaroid of Sid Vicious in January, 1978, after the Sex Pistols last performance together. Photo by Jim Jocoy. (Not in his new book)

Then, Mr. Jocoy spoke about releasing these photos now, partly, out of a “responsibility” to those he photographed who have passed. While “Order of Appearance” is a beautiful tribute to his departed friends, who will continue to live on through his work, it also cements Jim Jocoy’s legacy among both the great music photographers, and portraitists, of our time.

Jim Jocoy holding TBW’s poster for his new book. As it says, THIS is the real deal.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “The Unheard Music,” written by Exene Cervenka and John Doe, from “Los Angeles,” by X, published by The Bicycle Music Company.

This is Part 3 of the most extensive coverage of AIPAD, 2017, available anywhere! The rest of this 4-part series is here.

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. 

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  1. Mr. Jocoy includes a page of captions, most including names, near the end of the book. ↩

R.I.P. Master Saxophonist Arthur Blythe

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Written by Kenn Sava

I was very saddened to hear of the death of Arthur Blythe this past week. Mr. Blythe was a Master of the Alto Saxophone, who, after having worked as a bouncer, started making his name (as “Black” Arthur Blythe) on the NYC avant garde loft scene, centered around Sam River’s “Studio RivBea” in the late-1970’s. This led Mr. Blythe to tantalizing first solo records for small and adventurous labels, before finally breaking out in 1980 on Columbia Records.

Arthur Blythe on the cover of his 1991 ENJA album “Hipmotism.”

“Adventurous” is a word I’d use to sum up what attracted me to him, actually. His early masterpieces like “The Grip” and “Metamorphosis,” (both on India Navigation) were never far from my turntable back in the day, bringing a breath of fresh air both in his writing and compositions as well as in his choice of instrumentation (bringing back the tuba, a staple of Jazz’ earliest bands, instead of the bass), as in his singular, searing and singing tone, his instantly recognizable “trademark.”

Adventure Lives! “The Grip” and “Metamorphosis,” both recorded live on the same date have been reissued on this “In Concert” CD.

The back of “Metamorphosis” with some of it’s early reviews. Exhilarating & ground-breaking, I say.

Mr. Blythe retained that adventurousness on his first Columbia records, “Lenox Avenue Breakdown,” and “In the Tradition,” both very good, leading to his masterpiece, “Illusions,” which alternated a classic acoustic Jazz Quartet, featuring John Hicks, with his more adventurous electric group,l which included guitarist James “Blood” Ulmer, cellist Abdul Wadud and Bob Stewart’s tuba, on a record that I don’t think anyone quite saw coming. Coming smack dab in the middle of the fusion/jazz purist war started by Miles Davis’ “Bitches Brew,” in 1969-70, here was a record that had a foot in both camps at the same time, which was unheard of. Then, he was increasingly forced by label pressures to “go commercial,” and his subsequent Columbia releases proved more and more disappointing, especially after “Light Blue,” his Thelonious Monk album. Later, Arthur Blythe recorded for ENJA, Contemporary Records, and others, with mixed results. But, live, in concert, or in a club, remained a great place to hear him, and his unique sound, one of the most powerful on the Alto of his generation, a power matched by his inside/outside style, which made him comfortable in any musical setting (like Jack DeJohnette’s “Special Edition” Band), and a presence that struck me as being defined by grace, even though he was a large man.

“Illusions” One of the great Jazz Albums of the 1980’s.

More recently, I’d heard rumors of illnesses, including Parkinson’s, but hoped he’d finally get a chance to be himself and fully realize his unique musical vision. Those chances seemed both rare and elusive. Now? To my mind, he leaves us under-appreciated, which is complicated to change because of the external factors I mention that effect his discography. I hope that future diligent Jazz lovers will explore his records, and keep his legacy alive.
*- Soundtrack for this Post is “My Son Ra” by Arthur Blythe, a staple in his live performances, it appears on both “In Concert,” and “Illusions.”

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.

R. Crumb Meets His Match

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

(This is, also, my NoteWorthy Show for January, 2017.)

I’ve been looking at R. Crumb for a very long time. At least 20 years. Of course, his work predates that by a further 35 years, and today I still find all of it compelling. Unfortunately, the chances to see a number of original works by R. Crumb remains all too rare. The chance to see the Artist himself, rarer still. So rare, I never have. I tried in vain to find out if he would be appearing at the opening for the show co-starring his wife of FORTY YEARS (in 2018), Aline Kominsky-Crumb, “Drawn Together,” on January 12, then decided to take a chance and swing by David Zwirner Gallery (most recently the scene of “William Eggleston- The Democratic Forest,” which pretty much turned my entire life upside down, launching my free-fall into a bottomless pit of research into Contemporary Photography. In fact, If I’m not careful, this will become a Photography Blog very soon!) and have a look see, anyway. I’m not one to attend Art Openings unless an Artist I’m interested in is making an appearance.

The Nighthawk At The Opening (Artist’s conception, cause I generally don’t attend them). Adapted from The New Yorker’s March 13, 2017 cover called “Opening Night.” I couldn’t resist. My Apologies to Artist Carter Goodrich, and the great editor Francoise Mouly (a friend of R. & Aline Crumb).

R. Crumb’s work occupies a unique place somewhere between what’s been traditionally the so-called “low-brow” world of comics and “Fine Art,” that’s been hard won. Bursting on the world’s awareness like a supernova in 1967, when he was there are the genesis (sorry) of what would come to be called “Underground Comics,” a genre of which he soon became the de-facto figurehead of, and, for many, it’s most important Artist. Over the years, his work has begun to be more fully appreciated beyond the world of Comics. The late Art Critic Robert Hughes called him “the Brueghel of our time.” Even that lofty observation barely scratches the surface of R. Crumb’s impact and influence. While I was walking the streets of Chelsea to the opening of this show, admittedly with Crumb on my mind, I found it quite hard not to see his influence in the work of a number of shows I passed by Artists who’s work has nothing to do with comics or graphic novels and even in the flared pants snd chunky shoes women seem fond of these days. While Crumb’s work remains under-appreciated by the Fine Art world, in my opinion1, his influence has barely begun to be seriously considered2.

Arriving, I walked in to a good sized crowd…and live music. As I made my way through the gallery to the rear, large room. Low and behold…

R. Crumb, himself.

Art, and Artist. R. Crumb on left-handed mandolin(!), appropriately on the far left, performing with the East River String Band, at the Opening, David Zwirner Gallery, West 19th Street, January 12, 2017.

…looking just like a comic of R. Crumb, himself. He was seated wearing a cap and playing a mandolin with a group, the “East River String Band,” who’s blonde singer and one of the musicians I immediately recognized from covers R. has drawn for the band’s albums. The music was lively and pleasant, but, frankly, it went right past me. I couldn’t get over the fact that here he was, a few feet in front of me. Every little move he made fascinated me- he plays left handed!? (he writes & draws lefty, too), how he interacted with the other musicians (he seemed to mostly follow), how he held his instrument, how he sat while playing it (slightly folding himself around it)…Partly, the former Musician in me was interested. Mostly, it was because R. is someone who seems to do everything he does deliberately, so this might reveal some small key to the Artist.

The set ended, and I moved a bit closer as the equipment was torn down. R., his instrument put away, remained in his chair. Carefully approached by a few (the legend of his not being a fan of his fans well-known to his, um, fans), only one, who he appeared to know, actually dared speak to him. He presented a book. It may have been one they collaborated on.

Alone in a crowd. R. Crumb after the set.

I watched the Artist reach into his inside jacket pocket and produce a white pen to sign it. I immediately recognized it as a Rapidograph pen, the pen he’s made famous, at least for me, because they are what he’s drawn with for lord knows how long now. I had never heard of them until I found out he used them a decade ago, and immediately bought a set for like 120 bucks. Then, I realized that drawing in ink is not for those squeamish at the site of their own blood. So? Back to graphite and my trusty eraser it was for me, leaving ink to Master Draughtsmen, like R. Crumb. To this day, It’s always funn to look at a Crumb original and see if there is any use of White Out Correction Fluid on it or not. He will do the most intricate cross hatching and there will be no White Out to be seen, anywhere. I don’t think I’ve drawn in ink since.

Happy Early 40th R. & Aline! HOW did you do it?? Maybe the gent in the back is wondering, too.

He looked a bit older than the last time I’d seen him on video, a bit frailer, perhaps, then he stood up, and with Aline alongside, made his way through the throng to the gallery’s offices, not to be seen again (at least while I was there). Due to the Opening Night crowd, I returned a number of other times to see the actual show.

What I saw was shocking.

As shocked as those at the opening may have been by the unannounced (as far as I know) appearance by the Artist, more may have been shocked by the excellence of the “other Artist” who shared the bill with R. Crumb, his wife of 40 years (next year. Sorry. I can’t stop saying that because it blows my mind), Aline Kominsky-Crumb.

Yes, excellence.

Anyone who can go toe to toe (not to mention parts more intimate, but no less appropriate to this show), with R. Crumb over the course of most of a show (and ALL those years of marriage) is someone who deserves an award. Well, at least recognition. It’s high time Aline Kominsky-Crumb be acknowledged, and accepted, and her considerable body of work be appreciated. “Drawn Together” made the case for that as well as it’s likely to be made.

The standard “knock” against her has to do with her draughtsmanship. Even she mentions it in a panel here. There are many cartoonists, graphic novelists, even Artists hanging in The Met, who’s draughtsmanship is “suspect,” (to be kind). It’s missing the point. The point of Art is to express and communicate, (even if the latter is “only” a byproduct). Those just happen to be Aline Kominsky-Crumb’s strongest suits.

But, yes, there are masterpieces by the Master of Underground Comics to be seen here, too. The ten page story, “Walkin’ The Streets,” wherein we witness a conversation between R. and his late brother, Charles, strikes me as one of his great(est) works.

R. Crumb’s “Walking The Streets,” with his dear brother, Charles.

Charles(left)? I was just saying the same thing, here, a few weeks back.

In fact, on the subject of draughtsmanship, it’s actually arguable who among the three Crumb Brothers, was/is the greatest. R. has spoke glowingly of Charles’ talents. He passed at age 50 from an OD of his prescribed drugs.

A page from an extremely rare surviving sketchbook by Charles Crumb reveals his obsession with “Long John Silver.” See Terry Zwigoff’s superb documentary “Crumb” for more, and seldom seen video of Charles and Maxon.

The other brother, Maxon’s, work is ingeniously intricate, and brilliantly executed, though both of those are matched by his penchance for obfuscation and symbolism. If you can fight through that, you will find an Artist who doesn’t fit into the “comic book,” or even graphic novel genre, but an Artist, who’s path is closer to that of a Fine Artist. While R.’s originals sell for up to six figures (before the decimal point), Maxon’s drawings sell for hundreds, maybe a thousand dollars, his scarcer paintings for maybe 10 to 15 grand. In my opinion, he is very unfairly overlooked, (a bit like Charles Pollock is to his brother, Jackson Pollock.) Look at this-

Maxon Crumb’s “Take Thy Beak From Out My Heart,” Ink. The intricacy of this work is just staggering. (This was not in the show).

Speaking of being overlooked, R. Crumb has been ever so gradually finding acceptance as a Fine Artist on his way to being recognized as a “great Artist.” Beyond his draftsmanship, the honesty in his work is something that might seem common now, in this age of so-called “reality” shows. R. Crumb is the original reality star in the sense of honesty depicting himself- “good,” and “bad.” This turned off many, and it, too, hasn’t “mellowed” much over time. Though things like his sexual preferences (and appetites) remain controversial, and retain the ability to shock, as does how nakedly he discusses his inner feelings and thoughts. His wife is no shrinking violet, either. She never hides what she’s thinking or feeling, about herself, or anyone else, either. As a result, she is, perhaps, the ideal collaborator and foil for R..

R. & Aline Crumb, “Should Oddball Types…,” ink. Just one example.

The results present countless fascinating insights into their lives and their long standing open marriage. Making it a family affair, daughter Sophie, now an adult Artist with children of her own, makes an appearance, too. Want to hear what the Crumbs think about having kids? How Aline knows that R. hasn’t left her? (Hint- It has to do with vinyl.) How much R.’s “Book of Genesis” was sold for by Zwirner? How sobriety has been going for Aline? The joys of owning a “vintage” refrigerator,” or, you just want to watch R & A get “50 Shades”-style kinky? It’s all here. In fact, what’s here, and unspoken, is that the two of them have quietly amassed a major body of work. Appearing, variously, under titles including “Self-Loathing Comics,” or “Dirty Laundry Comics” (what could be more appropriate?) it’s now, finally, collected in the 184 page catalog for the Cartoonmuseum Basel version of this show, entitled “Drawn Together.”

R., Aline & Sophie Crumb, “Dirty Laundry” Cover Art, Ink.

R. & Aline Crumb, “Self-Loathing Comics,” Cover. Ink. After the age of “superheroes,” R. ushered in the “reality” based Artist as anti-hero age, we’re still in the midst of. And, Aline will keep drawing her hair to prove it!

Highlights? For me? Aline’s “My Very Own Dream House,” which takes up almost the entire front gallery, and holds rapt attention over 33 pages.

Aline Kominsky-Crumb’s “My Own Dream House,” Ink, beginning.

Installation view of (almost) all of it.

Her “Goldie in Fanatic Female Frustration” in the main room, in a different drawing style, is sparser, but none the less engrossing.

Aline Kominsky-Crumb’s “Goldie,” ink. Even at a distance, the unique style of this terrific work grabs you, and perfectly conveys the fanatic frustration within.

Along with these, we get a case of R.’s classic underground comics, ranging from “Zap” #0 to “Fritz The Cat” to “Weirdo,” a case of early drawings and sketchbooks, including the very rare sketchbook of Charles’ shown above, and a collection of family photos.3

A Hall of Fame of Underground Comic Classics.

If Aline was the star of this show, if not a revelation for me, R.’s star now shines all over the world, as we see in their collaboration about their visit to Belgrade, where they were treated like “superstars,” Aline writes. At Zwirner, the range of folks coming in to see this show was striking. It was, literally, every kind of person imaginable. Young, old, male, female, black, white, hipster, hippie, businessman, writers, photographers and yes, Artists.

One thing that surprised me was how many of them took the time to read the works. It’s one thing to read a comic book or graphic novel in a book, it’s another to read a 10 or 20 page story hanging on a wall, especially when half of it is hung higher than eye level. Yet, I watched person after person read each panel before moving a foot to their right to read the next. Since comic Art or Graphic Novels aren’t often seen in galleries or museums, I found this an unusual, interesting and refreshing thing. Most people seem to spend 1/4 the amount of time in front of paintings.

Crumb shows are way too infrequent. The last NYC show, “The Book of Genesis,” was also at Zwirner in 2010! While I expect, and welcome, future Crumb gallery shows, the time has come for a Crumb show in an NYC Museum.

Any bets on who will be the first to step up? My guess is MoMA. I think it’s a matter of when, not if. It’s hard to imagine it not being a blockbuster show.

It would be nice if it happened while he’s still around to see it. That is, IF he decides to actually show up to see it.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Ball and Chain,” as recorded by Janis Joplin and Big Brother & The Holding Company (what else?), as recorded on “Cheap Thrills,” 1968(! FIFTY years ago next August), with an R. Crumb cover, one of the most classic album covers ever done, which might have made him as famous as anything else, and written by Big Mama Thornton.

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. Though collectors paid large sums paid for his work at auction last fall. ↩
  2. I have wondered if even the great Philip Guston’s late work may have been…? ↩
  3. For those so inclined, The Strand somehow STILL has signed copies of Aline’s gorgeous, unique Autobiography/ScrapBook/Graphic Novel entitled “Need More Love,” which has long been out of print for all of TEN DOLLARS! Word. ↩

Kerry James Marshall: The Revolution Was NOT Televised

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava

“The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised
The revolution will be no re-run, brothers;
The revolution will be live.”*

Gil Scott-Heron was right. The revolution wasn’t televised. It was painted. Well, one revolution…so far, was.

“Kerry James Marshall: Mastry,” was live, on the walls of the 3rd and 4th Floors of The Met Breuer (TMB), where it was nothing less than a revolution, bringing black figures to Art in Museums, for the first time, in the form of a Retrospective of 35 years of Marshall’s work. While that might be the lead, in my book, it also established it’s subject, KJM for short, as a modern Master, and proves his work belongs in our greatest Museums, and well, any Museum.

Life, and Remembrance. Mastry’s opening gallery @TMB presents two of his major themes. In “De Style,” 1993, right, one of his most iconic works, KJM’s barbershop is full of life, culture, individuality and invention- painted and coiffed. On the left, his “The Lost Boys,” also 1993, a title borrowed from Peter Pan, is an homage to two children lost to gun violence, and all the boys who were “lost” to a variety of causes.

The revolution takes place…in a barbershop. “De Style’s” title seems a coy play on the name of the Dutch Art Movement “De Stijl,” brought to “Percy’s House of Style,” though the painted style of this work is purely his own. A very wise purchase by the L.A. Museum of Contemporary Art in 1993, the year it was completed, 22 years before The Met acquired one.

In bringing the black figure to Museum(s), KJM seems determined to fill as many of the “slots” they’ve been overlooked in heretofore as he can. We see boy scouts, girl scouts, lovers, monsters (“Frankenstein,” and his “Bride,”), models, Self Portraits, murderers, (imagined) Self Portraits of other Artists, portraits of historical figures, as well as scenes from family life, in the suburbs, the inner city and in recreation, as well as daily life, and home life, in the Artist’s studio, at the barber shop & hair salon, which are becoming his most famous works. Along with these, we see memorials to slain children and cultural leaders, the questioning of the aesthetics of beauty & desirability, and the Artist’s own graphic novel, “Rythm Mastr,” (which left me longing to see much more of it). And, yes, there are even revolutionaries.

Early works. “Portrait of the Artist & A Vacuum Cleaner,” 1981, age 26. Cleaning up Art History.

“So This Is What You Want?,” 1992, tells a story in a different way that would soon coalesce and lose the “collage” feel. The image of the uterus (left of center) appears in a number of his works, including “De Style.”

Art History runs strong in the work of KJM. While many Artists study the past, copy the great Masters, and “borrow,” even steal some of their styles, etc., it’s unusual to see an Artist who is as familiar with the range and breath of Art History as KJM is. Charles Wilbert White, in particular, was an early idol, then a teacher and friend, so it’s not surprising that something of his style does seem to have echoes in KJM’s, especially in his portraits, Marshall’s fluency with Art History is something that reveals the long hours of study he spent in Museums and studying Art Books. The way he will use bits of a style, seemingly out of nowhere is thrilling,  makes the old “modern,” while seamlessly making it a part of his own style, often to the end of adding mystery. Abstract Expressionism seems to be a particular favorite, given how often passages of it occur in the works here. Then, there is the anamorphosis portrait of “Sleeping Beauty,” painted oblong right smack dab in the center in “School of Beauty, School of Culture,” 2012 (below), who can only be properly seen from the side. An homage to Hans Holbein the Younger, who used this technique in his masterpiece, “The Ambassadors,” 479 years earlier in 1533, where a skull appears that’s visible only looking at it from the painting’s side. In both works, it’s an optical tour de force, the sheer brilliance of it lies both in the audacity of using it in this work, as much as it appears directly under a coy “Self Portrait” of the Painter, himself, shown behind the flash of his camera. That this was hanging in The Met Breuer, part of a Museum that owns no less than 5 Hans Holbein the Younger’s paintings (though not “The Ambassadors”), was as much of a statement as anything else in this show.

“School of Beauty, School of Culture,” 2012, 13 feet long, pays homage to Art History, and Hans Holbein in the center, in a work that is wholly unique, fresh, exciting and endless fun to look at.

A child looks at Sleeping Beauty, while the Artist takes a step back to shoot the whole scene (in the rear, with flash).

Elsewhere there are echoes of Winslow Homer, Breughel, and, there is also a spectacular homage to Edward Hopper’s “Early Sunday Morning.” Marshall’s is, like Hopper’s, a tale of urban reality, and like the original, it finds it’s own way to make magic with the early morning sunlight.

“7am Sunday Morning,” 2003, 18 feet long. KJM’s take on Edward Hopper’s “Early Sunday Morning,” 1930, an urban work that reflects the Great Depression, Marshall’s features Chicago’s South Side, with one remaining high rise from the Robert Taylor Homes, the rest having been raised, with music coming from it, and includes a painted interpretation of a camera’s lens flare, in the right half.

As work after work goes by, it becomes plain that more than paying homage to Art History, KJM has added his name to the list of Masters- Old, and “New,” and, in the process, he brings the Art of Painting kicking and screaming into the 21st Century, along with him.

“Rythm Mastr,” 1999-on, is his endlessly inventive graphic novel. Sometimes broadsheet handouts, sometimes lightboxes, as here. I traveled to a satellite show at IPCNY just to see more of it. I’ve never seen anything like it. Publish it all, please!

Along with all of this, 1/3 of the way through, there is, also, a large gallery full of works chosen from The Met’s permanent collection by the Artist, for a “show within a show,” called “Kerry James Marshall Selects.” Which reminds me, that though The Met has had a “tempestuous” past when it comes to the work of Modern & Contemporary Art & Artists, as the world’s greatest depository of 5,000 years of man’s creativity, it is uniquely suited to “highlight Mashall’s deep connection to history,” as Met Director Thomas P. Campbell said in their October press release, and dialogue with it, as the show within a show does.

“Kerry James Marshall Selects,” Installation view. In my dream, I get to do this…Of course, in the same dream, I’m also a genius painter, so The Met will let me.

Charles Wilbert White, “John Brown,” 1949, idol of, later teacher and friend of KJM.

Among the pieces chosen by KJM were works by Ingres, Batlhus, Ad Reinhardt, Gerhard Richter, Durer, Paul Cadmus, DeKooning, Bonnard, Seurat, the aforementioned Charles Wilbert White, Toulouse-Lautrec, Yoshitoshi, Utagawa, Andrew Wyeth, the Bamana and Senufo Peoples, Jacob Lawrence, Horace Pippin, George Tooker, Matisse, John Graham, Romare Bearden, Roy DeCarava, Walker Evans, Aaron Douglas, and yes, Holbein The Younger. I list them here for those interested because the only place they appear in on page 265 of the show’s excellent exhibition catalog, which quickly went out of print, halfway through it’s run at TMB, and before it even opens at LA’s MOCA in March!1 KJM lived in LA, and works remembering those days are some of the most complex in the show. He currently lives in Chicago, where the show originated in April, 2016 at the MCA.

“Untitled,” 2009, an imaginary portrait of a female Artist that deftly melds a number of styles, including Abstract Expressionism and “paint by numbers” that leave you wondering what the imaginary Artist’s work looks like.

An analysis of Marshall’s mastery of At History, as seen in the works in “Mastry,” alone, would be a book of it’s own. I don’t know if he anticipated that the end result of his study would be his carrying on dialogues with his influences for the rest of time on the very same walls. But? That is most likely what will happen now.

Mastr-piece. “Untitled (Studio),” 2014. The only work in the show that belongs to an NYC Museum. The Met acquired this in 2015. They started late, but very well.

In October, the New York Times called him, and I quote, “an immortal man,” in a profile in their “The Greats” issue. That click you heard was the sound of a very deserving Artist “making it.”

“Untitled (Blot),” 2015, the most recent work in the show, ends it. Bruce Conner was famous for these, but in ink.

Welcome to forever, Kerry James Marshall.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” by Gil Scott-Heron, from the classic live album of the same name. Published by Carlin America Inc.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 7 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. As I face high expenses to keep it going, if you’ve found it worthwhile, please donate to keep it up & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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  1. If you want one, don’t pay the 200-300. being asked online for the few copies for sale there. I’d say wait. There MUST be a 2nd printing coming…right? In the meantime, The Met has an excellent website for the show that features images of the pieces and it’s audio guide, here. That there were no copies for the hundreds of people who wanted one during the second half of the show’s run at TMB astounds me. This cost The Met thousands of much needed dollars in revenue. Also, during it’s run at TMB, limited edition signed & numbered prints by KJM went from 2,700.00 each at the show’s opening to 4,000.00 each at The Met’s store currently. A 50% increase. ↩

Winterlude: Homage To “The Gates”

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

Note- This Post is also be my “NoteWorthy Art Shows, February, 2017” Post. The most “NoteWorthy” Show I saw this month just happened to be outdoors. (Yes, NoteWorth January is coming.) What follows is, also, something “different” for this site. 

This month marks the 12th Anniversary of the Art Installation “The Gates,” by the Artists Christo & Jeanne-Claude, in Central Park in February, 2005.

February 12, 2005, Opening Day of “The Gates,” Central Park, NYC

February 21, 2005

I took those two week off so I could try to see all  23 miles of it. It culminated with my being very fortunate to stumble upon the Artists, on a hilltop, on the very last night of it as they watched it’s final sunset, together. I wondered what they were thinking watching the climax of the gigantic project they had begun in 1979. For me, it was an unforgettable moment capping a once in a lifetime experience.

“Time, time, time
See what’s become of me…”*

The High Line, February, 2017. Click to enlarge any photo on this site.

Walking around a different NYC Park, The High Line, this February, twelve years later, often with no one else in sight, I couldn’t help remember what Christo & Jeanne-Claude said about why they chose February to hold “The Gates.” They mentioned that “their free hanging saffron colored fabric panels seemed like a golden river appearing through the bare branches of the trees.”

“Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky
Is a Hazy Shade of Winter”*

The photos I present here are meant to be taken individually, as what they are- isolated scenes from a large landscape, and so as individual works themselves (please click on the image to see it full size), and also to be taken as a group that tries to give a sense of the larger experience. They were all taken in February, 2017.

 

 

 

 

“Look around
Grass is high
Fields are ripe
It’s the springtime of my life”*

While there was no saffron to be seen, there was, indeed, “a golden river,” a natural one, utterly magnificent to be seen. It was as if nature, herself, was remembering…

 

 

 

 

 

The High Line is, of course, one of NYC’s newer Parks, and, a public work of Art in itself- Even in the dead of winter. Frankly? I can’t recall ever seeing it as beautiful.

“Seasons change with their scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Won’t you stop and remember me?”*

 

 

 

Since nature seemed to be doing it without prompting, I have no choice but to take the hint and dedicate this Post to Christo, and the memory of the late Jeanne Claude, both of whom I had the honor to meet once, before “The Gates,” as my way of saying “Thank you,” for them, and the 25 years of effort & dedication it took to get “The Gates” to happen.

After all, Art doesn’t just happen. Unless, it does.

*-The Soundtrack for this Post is “Hazy Shade of Winter,” by Paul Simon and recorded by Simon & Garfunkel on “Bookends.” Lyrics published by Universal Music Publishing Group.

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.

NYC Art Shows 2016- Sheena Wagstaff Rules The Waves

This year past, Manhattan Art was largely dominated by two themes. There was a seemingly continual string of shows by many of the bigger names in Abstract Expressionism (i.e. AbEx), one after the other, and I wrote about every one of them, beginning with Jackson Pollock @MoMA, Lee Krasner, Philip Guston (two- here and here), Richard Pousette-Dart, Joan Mitchell and Mark Rothko, along with a few excellent satellite compilation shows, each in a different venue, which, apparently is continuing into 2017 with Jackson Pollock set to open at the Guggenheim, completing the circle, for now. It was also a year of Women Artists getting important shows. Patti Smith, Nasreen Mohamedi, Diane Arbus, Cindy Sherman, Marilyn Minter1, June Leaf, Carmen Herrera, Nan Goldin, Mary Bauermeister, Carrie Mae Weems, Latoya Ruby Frazier, Krasner and Mitchell were only some of the highlights. Still? Artists weren’t the only women making a big impact on the NYC Art Scene in 2016. In fact, for my money, the biggest impact of all was made by another woman, The Met’s Chairwoman of Modern & Contemporary (M&C) Art, Sheena Wagstaff.

As far as I’m concerned, no other single person had the impact on NYC Art, all year long, that Ms. Wagstaff and her department did.

Sheena Wagstaff was named Chairwoman of TM’s M&C Department on January 20, 2012. Four years later, her 2016 began with putting finishing touches on TM’s new “branch Museum,” The Met Breuer (TMB), the first “branch” The Met has opened since The Cloisters in 1926! No pressure there. As it was about to open, ostensibly as the showcase for The Met’s “new” M&C Art iniatative, The Times’ Roberta Smith put the situation perfectly into perspective, speaking about the task Ms. Wagstaff faced/faces-

“But the Met is huge and old, with a history of treating contemporary art as an afterthought. Getting it to change is like turning around an ocean liner.” Roberta Smith, NYT, March 3, 2016.

It sailed into it’s mid- March opening with 2 shows- Unifnished: Thoughts Left Visible, a veritable Museum in itself covering 2 full floors (the third and fourth), and, easy to overlook, tucked away on the second floor, Nasreen Mohamedi, the first American Retrospective of the Indian woman artist who passed away in 1990, aged 53. Wait…Who? Yeah. Me, too.

Met Breuer, Opening Lineup, March 8, 2016. 11 months on? The 5th Floor is now gallery space, the 1st Floor Gallery is now the Gift Shop. Those 2 shows? They live on, indelibly. Notice that for all of Art History that’s represented in Unfinished, the signature image chosen is by Alice Neel, a woman, of James Hunter Black Draftee.

Vijay Iyer (piano, left) performs with his trio. Met Breuer, Member’s Opening Day, March 8, 2016.

The first members of the public get to see Unfinished on March 8, 2016. That tiny drawing on the far opposite wall is by Michelangelo.

After over 15 visits later, to my eyes, “Nasreen Mohamedi” was nothing less than 1) an epiphany. Here was an Artist who was a Major figure in Art in the 20th Century who’s name exists in not one Art History survey that I know of.

I now haunt these galleries, in my memory.

2) Therefore, it was easily one of the best shows of the year, and 3) the more I think about it, for many reasons, it was one of the best shows I’ve seen in years.

Most Memorable Art Work of the Year. Nasreen Mohamedi Untitled, circa 1970. When I first saw it, I thought it was a piece of fabric. Nope. This is a DRAWING.

Detail (about 10″ x 6″). Two amazing things about this- 1- The superhuman focus & manual skill on display. 2- The disease that would kill her would take these incomparable motor skills first, and shortly.

The subtlety, uniqueness and micro/macro impact of Nasreen Mohamedi’s drawings is seemingly without precedent. They speak to the “grand design” of the universe, while also giving the feeling that they are somehow familiar, though they are not.

Some call this work The Seven Planes of Existence. All her works were left untitled and undated, only 5 here were signed. Many were given to friends as gifts. She created most while dealing with an illness that would kill her family members, then rob her of her skills, and eventually kill her, as well.

Also an accomplished photographer, I find her photos every bit as wondrous as her work in other mediums. Each Untitled, ca. 1970

Closeup of the photo on the right. What exactly are we looking at?

I spent an hour sitting right next to Sheena Wagstaff at a “Nasreen Mohamedi Symposium,” at The Met 5th Avenue in June. After it was over, I had the chance to speak to her. All I could say to her was “Thank you,” for Nasreen Mohamedi, which gave me the chance to discover her. Then, I told her she had made “the perfect choice” to begin M&C Art at TMB.

Sheena Wagstaff, right, Met curator Brinda Kumar, center, and an Artist who’s name I didn’t get, left, at the Nasreen Mohamedi Symposium, June 3 at The Met. Ms. Wagstaff then sat down immediately to my left.

Six month later, I stand by those words.

Think about how much guts it took to make that call. How daring it was. TMB famously costs The Met 15 million dollars a year to operate. The Met, reportedly, ran a deficiet in 2016, costing jobs.  To say “a lot” was, and is, riding on the success of TMB would be an understatement. Not to mention TM’s world leading prestige. Nasreen Mohamedi was followed by diane arbus: in the beginning. Perhaps it would have been “safer” to have run Diane Arbus first. Maybe. Probably. I’m glad it was Sheena Wagstaff’s call (along with the rest of TM’s powers that be), and they chose Nasreen Mohamedi.

A page from one of her diaries. She blotted out much of what she had written. I wonder why. They left these patterns, reminiscent of her drawings.

The show was, apparently, a labor of love for Ms. Wagstaff. Hidden away in the very last gallery, in an iPad on the tables where visitors could peruse the now out of print and rare catalog, were some of the few extant photos from Ms. Mohamedi’s life. One of the last photos was a photo of Nasreen Mohamedi’s unmarked grave. I marvelled that someone had found it and photographed it. I looked for the credit to see who the photographer was. Sheena Wagstaff.

Nasreen Mohamedi was more than a terrific show. It was a statement. What was as easy to miss as the show itself was, as visitors made a bee line to see the copious treasures upstairs, it was more. It was the “answer” to the question about where Ms. Wagstaff was likely to steer The Met’s “new M&C initiative” going forward. As such, it was a shot over the bow of the future.

The future of M&C Art at The Met, and The Met Breuer, appears to be international, and inclusive. I expect more of the unexpected, more of the unknown and under-known. Bring it on. MoMA is running on all cylinders, putting on shows that are spectacular. It’s good for them, the Whitney, The Guggenhim, et al, to have some competition in M&C Art from The Met, and for us.

While Nasreen Mohamedi was blowing my mind on the 2nd floor, upstairs on 3 & 4, Unfinished was blowing everyone’s who saw it. Right off the elevator on 3, you make a right and in a small gallery you’re confronted by Leonardo da Vinci AND Michelangelo (all too rarely seen together in this hemisphere), AND Jan Van Eyck, and a few other works I can’t even remember because my mind was already overloaded. Oh yeah, some guy named Dürer did one. This was TM “showing off,” as I read Ms. Wagstaff say in an interview. Boy, did they. The rest of the show had a roster that would make 90% of all other whole Museums in the USA jealous.

For a New York Minute, Michelangelo, left, and two Leonardos were on display in “Unfinished,” as the show opened. The triumvirate was soon broken up, no doubt due to the fragility of the works.

So? Ok. This was a “fail safe” show. Ms. Wagstaff was by no means finished.

Rembrandt & Velazquez- the two greatest Painters who ever lived, according to many, very rarely seen side by side.

After Nasreen closed, diane arbus: in the beginning came in on 2, with an installation unique in art & photography shows in my experience. Every piece got it’s own wall. Yup. You read that right. Over 100 pieces. Over 100 walls. Amazing. No beginning. No ending. The point being that it was all her beginning.

A rare shot of Tatsuo Miyajima’s Arrow of Time, on view in TMB’s first floor gallery. The only show to take place there before it became the gift shop.

After “Unfinished,” the year at TMB ended with another blockbuster success- Kerry James Marshall: Mastry. This is the kind of show that makes you wonder WHY it took so long for Mr. Marshall to be so recognized. He’s been creating at a very high level for a long time. It was only 3 years ago that he was showing at the always excellent Jack Shainman Gallery in Chelsea. But? Not everyone was sleeping on KJM. Walking through this show it’s a sad feeling for a New Yorker to read the tags and see great work after great work that belongs to Chicago or Los Angeles. Not even MoMA has stepped up to a large degree with Kerry James Marshall. TM FINALLY got a major work of his last year.

The beginning of Kerry James Marshall: Mastry. In many ways, this was the show of the year.

Now? It’s probably too late.

This, unfortunately, highlights one area where much work remains to be done. The Met’s collection is sorely lacking the work of M&C Masters. As I recently pointed out, as far as I know, they own no work by Ai Weiwei. no work by Nasreen Mohamedi, and only one work (albeit a very, very good one) by Kerry James Marshall (and this was only acquired in 2015), to name but 3 cases. Frankly? I find this shameful. TM recently elected three new trustees, two of which are M&C specialists, so hope springs eternal for a little more wind to be added to those sails.

New York had until January 29 to enjoy seeing a lot of KJM in one place. (My piece is coming soon.) Now? It’s going to be a long wait. Los Angeles? You get your chance beginning March 12.

So? By my scorecard, that’s 4 shows in 9 months that will be remembered and talked about for a very long time, including no less than TWO that were major breakthroughs for the Artists- Nasreen Mohamedi and Kerry James Marshall2, putting both in the pantheon of the Artists who belong in our greatest Museums.

But? Ms. Wagstaff, who struck me as having so much energy, downtown NYC could have used her during the Hurricane Sandy Blackout, still wasn’t finished. Over at 1000 Fifth Avenue…(remember The Met’s Main Building?), she and her staff have also rehung TM’s M&C Galleries there, and done an amazing job.

While at sea, mind the lighthouse! Edward Hopper’s iconic The Lighthouse at Two Lights, 1929, receives pride of place in TM’s newly rehung M&C Galleries. Which reminds me- Sheena Wagstaff edited the Tate’s 2004 Edward Hopper Show catalog.

Works have come out of storage that haven’t been seen there in…?, and some, thankfully, have gone there in their stead. The arrangements are new, too. Themes take the place of chronological arrangements in many rooms, while the AbEx Galleries still remain largely together, but subtly ammended. We get to see, what I consider to be, a major work by Philip Guston that I never knew TM owned! Other works are given new prominence, notably Edward Hopper’s famous The Lighthouse at Two Lights, and Richard Pousette- Dart’s Symphony No. 1- The Transcendental, (photo, here, further down the page.)

In this one gallery, I was shocked to discover works by Pousette-Dart (Path of the Hero, 1950, right) and Philip Guston (left, and below) that I didn’t even know The Met owned because they haven’t shown them!

Philip Guston, Performers, 1947. WHERE has this been? With one foot in his past, and one in his future, for my money, this is one of the most important periods of Guston’s career, and very few works from it exist, after he destroyed most. A major Guston.

The result is a veritable breath, no, wind of fresh air throughout. More wind for the sails of that S.S. Met Roberta Smith wrote about.

Sheena Wagstaff had a great year, in my book. Here’s to her. May the wind be at her back. That sound you heard in January was my giving a major sigh of relief at the news that we didn’t lose her when the Tate Museums chose a new Director (Ms. Wagstaff was Chief Curator at Tate Modern before she joined The Met).

P H E W…

Elsewhere, in the big City…

Other Museums and Galleries, of course, put on shows that linger in the memory, and I would be remiss in not including them. In addition to Nasreen Mohamedi’s, another Retrospective tried to make the case for it’s Artist’s place in the canon on 20th Century Art History, and wildly succeeded, in my opinion- Bruce Conner: It’s All True @ MoMA  Though he spent some time early in his career in NYC3, he, and his work, were rarely seen here after, and as a result, seeing this broad & in-depth look at his accomplishment over a mind-bending number of mediums was nothing less than a bombshell in it’s impact on myself, and I suspect many other New Yorkers. The depth, the staggering detail in the work (most famously in his films, but we see here it was carried over in most of his other work in other genres.), the mediums he probably invented, (like the music video), techniques he created or mastered, and on and on. This show was a capstone on a great year for shows at MoMA. Picasso Sculpture, Edgar Degas: A Strange New Beauty, were must see/won’t soon forget in their own right. Bravo, MoMA. Now? About that building and the new one on the way…

Picasso, Owl, seen in Picasso Sculpture. One sure way to make this list? Include an Owl in your show. ; – )

In the galleries, what lingers with me were Ai Weiwei’s return to NYC at long last with 4 concurrent shows, Mark Rothko: Dark Passage, Patti Smith: 18Stations, Philip Guston: Laughter in the Dark, Stuart Davis: In Full Swing, at the Whitney, and William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest (mostly for the chance to study his work at length, which only made me want to look again). And, I always enjoy the chance to be captivated by someone I previously didn’t know, like the amazing Sydney Cash at Heller Gallery, or the up and coming Robert Currie at Bryce Walkowitz- both of who share a fascinating ability to make you see things that aren’t really there.

Sydney Cash’s Split Selfie, 2016, oversees two of his other works that no photo can “capture,” at Heller Gallery. See them better here. When you watch, remember all that’s happening is the viewer moves slightly side to side.

And finally, personally, the chance to meet Patti Smith and Sheena Wagstaff, or run into Chuck Close, were things that remain rich, as much for the opportunity to speak with them as for what I learned from each encounter.

All of these experiences reminds me that in the final analysis? Art is personal. For every one of us.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Andy Warhol” by David Bowie (who we lost this year, and who is Ms. Wagstaff’s fellow countryman, and an Art collector), from his classic album Hunky Dory.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. As I face high expenses to keep it going, if you’ve found it worthwhile, please donate to keep it up & ad-free below. Thank you!

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.
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  1. in 3 shows- 2 in Manhattan, 1 at the Brooklyn Museum, as part of their “Reimagining Feminism” Series ↩
  2. It must be noted that KJM: Mastry is a show organized by The Museum of Contemporary Art, L.A. the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, and The Met. ↩
  3. when legend has it he was denied entrance to MoMA for the opening of a show that included one of his works. ↩

Cancer Saved My Life

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

I grew up in a pre-determined life.

An empty lot? No, this is the box I grew up in. Click any image for full size.

I existed to follow in my father’s footsteps. The problem was that I had absolutely no inclination, or desire to do so.  Right through high school graduation there was never one iota of thought or discussion given to thinking “he might want his own life” by my family. After I escaped, by going on the road with a band, my family actively worked against my efforts trying to force me to come back to their plan. I disowned them in 2005. Lots of lonely holiday seasons have followed. By then, the die had been cast. I wound up knee deep in a career I never wanted to be in just to survive.

I know how he feels.

Finally, I dug myself out and got back to having a career in music, which went very well, until I got fed up with the record business (back when there was a record business), but that’s a story unto itself. Then, in 2007, I was diagnosed with cancer. I got the news, the results of my biopsy done the previous week, over the phone while I was sitting in my office.

“How was your weekend?,” the doctor asked quite casually. “Good,” I said. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that you have cancer,” were his exact words.

Time stopped. The clock read a little after noon as I recall.

I could see the blurred shapes of my coworkers walking in front of the glass walls of my office who’s door was closed, but, after those words, that room symbolized how I felt. It felt like I was in this box surrounded by immediate circumstances- this diagnosis and my job. It felt like a room I’d never been in before. The world was going on outside of it, beyond the glass walls. I could see out the window across the hallway and see sunlight coming down the narrow street, shining on the windows on the other side, a few hundred feet distant.

I was in a different world now.

No stranger to spending a lot of time alone, I was now in a  world inside myself, more fully than I had ever been before.

After giving me my diagnosis on the phone, he said you really should come in to talk. “Yeah. I guess so,” I remembered saying. I was barely listening at this point. Disbelief is the first thing that hits you.

A few days later I went to meet with him, he sat down, and said to me “I had to show your slides to my colleagues. We’ve never this before.”

Huh?

What could possibly be worse? To get a diagnosis with cancer, THEN the doctor tells you “we’ve never seen this before.”

!?

Apparently all 15 of my biopsy cores came back with cancer. I asked “Are you sure those are my slides?” He said yes, and I don’t remember anything of the meeting after that. It was like a window shade rolled down over my mind after that, like it had been glazed over. I walked out of the hospital, in a daze and crossed insanely busy Park Avenue (which runs both ways) a few hundred feet north of 14th Street in the middle of the day without even looking to see if traffic was coming! Somehow I made it across to Union Square. To this day I have no idea how I got there. I walked back to work at 2 PM. My boss, Rob, who would become a good friend, and the only one I had told at work, came in and sat in my office, he looked at me and asked me if I was OK. I don’t remember responding, just sitting there in that space deep inside of myself still in shock.

Cancer? And? It’s bad?

I’ve never really been sick a day in my life. I’ve never had surgery. I’ve never spent the night in a hospital. There was no cancer in my family. I broke a bone in my hand once, I messed up my knee a little bit, I destroyed the hearing in my left ear playing in the band, and I destroyed my feet wearing rock ‘n’ roll shoes onstage made by the guys who made Kiss’s famous boots. That’s been the extent of my health issues in my life. To be diagnosed with cancer, and have to work your way through the biology, the medicine, the treatment options, the incredibly incomprehensible technology, and try to figure out, alone, what is the best treatment for you, is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Shock was the first stage for me, and it was quite a while before I got over it. Looking back now, it was years before I got over the shock that yes, I have cancer. Growing up, cancer was a death sentence. One thing I learned that even then, in 2007, most people I eventually told, treated me like I was going to die.

I was alone as I’ve ever been. Why is there even a light on?

Given all my responsibility at work, I didn’t say a word to anyone else there about any of this. A few days later my boss, Rob, came in and announced he was leaving. ! What? Are you serious? He got a better offer. The owner of the company, who still didn’t know, wound up giving me his job. He was the CFO of the 3 corporations with offices in 3 states! He was making $150,000 more than I was making. I was the Controller, but I wasn’t a CPA, which he was. And? I didn’t get a raise.

I had to deal with researching treatment options, not to mention the strain of being newly diagnosed with cancer, while learning his job, at the end of the year with a financial closing period looming for three corporations. I don’t know how I got through all of that. I had two full-time jobs. Learning about cancer, looking for doctors, and researching treatment options, side effects and outcomes, was the other full time job.

Well? At least I didn’t have to worry about “celebrating” the holidays!

I did my due diligence, learned as much as I could, got four opinions, and then decided on the treatment. And then? Every cancer patient’s worst nightmare happened. I picked the WRONG treatment. I chose to have hormone therapy followed by two types of radiation treatment. That’s 3 treatments. Why? Because I just didn’t want to have surgery. People die during surgery.

So, at peace with my choice, that I had avoided surgery, I went back to the hospital to begin my treatment. The doctor who had diagnosed me and called to give me the news sat nearby holding the needle with the hormones in it about 2 inches from my left arm. He said, “You know you’re not going to have any libido for twice as long as you’re going to be on this, right?” The treatment was scheduled to take 2 years. So? That was four years. “Um, what? No. I didn’t know that.” I had asked the question during the original meeting, but didn’t ask the right follow up question. Uggh!

I stopped him. He, basically, saved my life right there.

I went home devastated. After all of this, all of these opinions, all of this research I had made a mistake!

The writing on the wall SCREAMING at me. These letter are about as big as the mistake I made.

This treatment plan was chosen for the WRONG reason- basically, for my comfort. Since it wasn’t surgery, it was in my comfort zone. Ok. So? Now what, Kenn? The cancer is still here.

I had no choice but to start over. Square one.

Going to back to the beginning, I had to face that the most basic fact was the one I wasn’t focused on COMPLETELY. And that is-

Cancer was trying to kill me. This was WAR.

I then asked myself a hard, fundamental and essential question- What do you want to accomplish through treatment? There was only one answer. Get ALL the cancer out of my body as quickly as possible, via the means with the longest track record of proven results. By that I mean long term survival rates free of cancer.

A woman reached out to me online to tell me about her husband’s story. He had been treated and it hadn’t gone well. He had bad side effects after, and both of their lives were now negatively impacted, every day, by them. Then, she said, “If I had to do it over again, I’d insist he go to Dr. Samadi.” Who? He’s a surgeon. Since my treatment choice had turned out to be WRONG, I decided to consider surgery even though, yes, “people die during surgery.”

Umm..? People die from cancer, too, Kenn! MANY more people.

You want your best chance of getting cancer out of your body and possibly beating this horrible disease? Surgery was my best choice. (Mine. Every diagnosis is different. I am not a doctor and I am certainly not giving medical advice here. What worked for me may not for someone else. There are side effects from any treatment, and they are just one factor that needs to be carefully considered.) I was still young enough that if surgery didn’t work I could have radiation treatment(s) after. In my case, I couldn’t do it the other way around. I posted on a cancer support website asking who other patients thought was the best surgeon in NYC. About 20 people responded in 24 hours. Dr. Samadi got 3 votes. No one else got more than 1. The next day Dr. Samadi, himself, contacted me through the website.

“Hello. With your diagnosis, I can treat you and your prognosis will be excellent.”

Huh? What “good” doctor is on the internet looking for patients?

I didn’t respond. My bias against using the internet for this returned. What was I thinking looking for a cancer doctor ONLINE? The road to help, and an answer, felt endless…cold, lonely. It was November, outside and the dead of winter in my soul.

Life lies dormant on The HighLine in February. The path stretches far out ahead into the cold night…

About this time my friend, Fluffy, told me to try Columbia Presbyterian. President Clinton had been treated there. So? Being as Dr. Samadi was there, and with these other recommendations, I decided to call his office.

No one returned my call. ?

I decided to finally write back to him and tell him I tried. He said, “I’m leaving on a trip tomorrow at 1:30pm. Just come to my office and I will get you in.” Without an appointment? Again, irregular. But? Ok. I did. He did. Opinion #5.

I was impressed with every thing about him. He told me he could give me a triple golden outcome (i.e. be free of cancer with neither of the two most serious side effects, i.e. incontinence, impotence). An expert in the (then) new robotic surgery, he also had had state of the art training, and experience, in the two other, time tested types of surgery. Should the robot somehow fail, he could switch to one of them without missing a beat and complete the operation. No other doctor I knew of in NYC could do that. He had treated many patients successfully (I would speak to some). He seemed to have every base covered. The robotic surgery seemed to promise minimal incisions leading to a quicker recovery. I left feeling I didn’t want anyone else to touch me. I realized later that that feeling of ultimate confidence is something you MUST have in a doctor you choose to treat you! I decided then and there to make an appointment to have Dr. Samadi operate on me. I had done a 360 on surgery. Let’s go! It was the third week of November. The earliest appointment was in March!

What? Let me get this straight-

He’s booked FOUR MONTHS in advance AND still took time to find me online and offer his help (to me)? Wow. Now? I was in awe. It felt like a hand had come out of the sky and plucked me out of the worst nightmare of my life. “Just get on the schedule and I will move you up,” he said, as my condition required quicker treatment.

He operated on me on February 7, 2007. 10 years ago today.

4 hours later, my eyes partially opened. The bottom half of my closed eyes revealed light. I slowly opened them more. There were trees, branches and sunlight. Where was I? It was early February. This wasn’t winter. This was spring. Around this narrow opening of light, it was all darkness. Just a narrow rectangle of light in the lower center.  It didn’t look like the famous “tunnel” near death experience survivors speak about. But, there was a center section of light surrounded by blackness.

Passing this doorway this week uncannily reminded me of “waking up” that day.

I laid there for over an hour and a half before anyone came over. I was in the recovery room. At least that’s where I was told I was. The light was from an open window about 100 feet across from me. I wasn’t sure I was alive.

To this day? Part of me feels like I died on that operating table on February 7, 2007.

In many ways, my life did end that day. As I realized that, I started thinking of my “new life” as having begun that day, too.

So, today? I’m 10 years old.

The part of my life that DID die from cancer? Ok…

I had no wife, no girlfriend, no family, no kids, no one I could see on a daily basis, there was almost no love in my life. Most of my friends took off after I got sick. The girl I had been seeing did me three days before my surgery, then I didn’t hear from her for four months. Until she sent me a card. A card? You live two blocks away from me. You’re the closest person I know in the whole world to where I live. I’m getting through my recovery alone, in a 4th floor walkup, with no one to help me. And, you send me a card?

She wasn’t the only one.

My “best friend” of seven years pulled up shop in New York and decided to move home to Indianapolis, Indiana. She went to see a friend of mine at a bar the night of my surgery when I was lying unconscious in the hospital. She told him she was leaving in the morning. He asked her, “Are you going to say goodbye to Kenn?” She said “Yes.” She never did. She left town and never even said goodbye to me. I was hoping and expecting she would help me over the next couple of weeks.

One of the first things cancer taught me was it made me realize that the two or three friends I had left were my real Friends (cap, mine, as I am wont to do in this Blog). Forget the online nonsense of what people call “friends.” How dare they use that word! I KNOW what a Friend is. I learned the hard way. When push comes to shove, When the stuff hits the fan, and all bets are off, like the soldiers talk about “in their foxholes,” you’re lucky if you have two or three people by your side. That was the first major lesson I learned.

The doctor who diagnosed me told me I had a 20% chance of making it through year 1 after treatment without needing additional treatment. Today, I celebrate TEN YEARS without addtional treatment!

But? Early on? I was sure I was a goner. That 20% quickly flipped in focus to 80% against.

I decided to sell everything I owned and make preparations for “the end.” I lived like I was going to die. My assistant at work forced me out of my job while I was laid up in bed, so I left my job of 10 years, and the career I never wanted, to focus on my recovery. After I did, I took stock of my life.

Almost everyone was gone. My career was gone. My former boss, now friend, Rob used to ask me, “What are you doing in this job? You’re a creative guy.” It hit me pretty hard. I didn’t have an answer for him, until life handed me the answer. My cancer was gone (at least until my next test). What am I going to do now?

I decided to take care of myself. Complete my recovery, and live being myself- 24/7. Crazy, right? Who does that? 10 years later, I haven’t looked back. (Yet.) It’s pretty scary, though. I can’t say I don’t worry about the future. Then again? Who doesn’t?

Yes, someone is sleeping in the doorway of this gallery.

So? Yes, a fair amount of the life I knew did die on February 7, 2007.

The second big thing cancer taught me was what REALLY MATTERS in life.

Are you ready?

I realized that ALL that matters in life is Loving and being Loved.

Read that again. I’ll wait.

That’s all. Period. End of sentence. Goodnight! Get home safely.

But, having no love in my life? Being a “get it done” kind of guy. I decided I could “get it done” and find love. I spent most of the next 5 years looking for love- E V E R Y W H E R E. What I re-learned was that “finding love” is impossible. Love isn’t something you can “find.” It just happens. Or? It just doesn’t happen. Finally? I decided to love myself. It was all I had left.

“The words of the prophet are written on the subway wall,” Paul Simon once sang. Or? A block away.

Besides? If you don’t love yourself, who will?

Of course I’ve been very lucky, and have so very much to be thankful for. I have been trying to practice mindful giving thanks from moment to moment. Having cancer, also, puts you in touch with the cancer community. I heard a lot of stories. Many terrible. Many inspiring. It’s miraculous, to me, that anyone survives cancer, given how it was when I was growing up. I’ve watched some dear people die from it. I’ve talked to quite a few people who didn’t have good outcomes- either from complications from their treatment, or from cancer returning and spreading. The cancer community is, also a wonder. Survivors like the author Musa Mayer, (who is “also” the great Philip Guston‘s daughter) have forged new paths in cancer advocacy and given hope and support to countless others in ways that didn’t exist when I was diagnosed.

I was privileged to be in the presence of Musa Mayer a few weeks ago as she spoke about her father’s, Philip Guston’s, work in the Nixon Drawings show @ Hauser & Wirth.

Beyond them, to say I’m grateful to the doctors who treated me and saved me 10 years ago is a huge understatement. Recently, I had the honor to meet another one who’s on the front lines right now, Dr. Melissa Pilewskie at Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center. Listening to her, I couldn’t help but marvel at her inner strength, and those of my doctors. She told me that as a surgeon she has treated 2,000 patients in 5 years. That’s 400 a year. There’s only 365 days in a year! Ok, Dr. Pilewskie is obviously a world-class doctor, with an extraordinarily rare skill set. I couldn’t help but wonder…where does this young lady get the inner strength to deal with cancer patients all day every day? Let alone to deal with them so well. It was a humbling experience that reminded me of the debt I owe the doctors who treated me. On my 10 year anniversary, it was also an insight into how far cancer treatment has come in my lifetime, and continues to progress, and a reminder of how many very special people are in there fighting tooth and nail to treat, beat, and even cure cancer. This isn’t a “job” to them. It’s their mission.

THANK YOU! And, bless you all.

If you get diagnosed with cancer (PLEASE, no!), you now have a great chance of being treated, and then get to go on with your life. My advice to you is- Get the best doctor your insurance will cover and get treated. Go for your follow up tests, religiously. For everyone else who doesn’t have cancer? Catching cancer early really is your best chance to beat it. Don’t miss those checkups! That’s how mine was discovered, my life saved.

The big reveal from my experience with cancer is that cancer wound up forcing me to have the life I always wanted to have.

Finally.

No one lives forever. I was living my life like I was going to live to be 200, and everything I REALLY wanted to do, I would get to one day. Well? One day is N O W. That’s why I have this site. That’s why I spend my life going to see Art 6 days a week, taking photos and listening to music. I can’t wait for “one day” anymore. Damn the expense (which goes up every minute)! Damn the later impact on my life (he says now)!

If I don’t do this NOW? WHEN am I going to do it? I don’t know if any of this would’ve happened if I didn’t get cancer.

After I started to recover, I had some of those plastic bracelets made for my site before this one. I was writing about my daily experiences with cancer, in an effort to give others who were newly diagnosed some information through sharing my experiences, because at the time no one else was doing it. On them, I had three phrases engraved. One was

Get tested

The second was

Get treated

And finally-

LIVE YOUR LIFE!

They were there as a reminder to myself, a mantra, as much as what I’d learned.

Close, and seeing this this week was a coincidence, and a reminder.

Early on my friend and cancer survivor, Stephanie 2, told me that cancer “would change my life in ways I could not imagine.” She was right. My experience with cancer challenged me in more ways than any other. In the end? It challenged me to face myself. To love myself and to be myself, fully, no matter what.

I’m not grateful for cancer. I HATE cancer. It’s taken the lives of friends, acquaintances, and many I’ve admired from afar. It’s cost me parts of my body I really didn’t want to lose.

In the end, I’m more grateful for life (than what it cost me to have it). For the chance to change the course of my life, and finally live the life I always wanted to have.

Ok, so cancer didn’t really “save my life.” Doctor Chuey, Doctor Dinlenc and Doctor Samadi did. I used cancer as a wake up call to save myself after they did.

So?

Life, in February. The High Line, February, 2017.

I hope you’ll join me in celebrating my 10th Birthday.

If I’m actually still alive.

———-

With my undying thanks to those who saved me-

-Dr. David Samadi

-Dr. Caner Dinlenc

-Dr. John Chuey

-Helen Petrocelli, RN

-The staff of Columbia Presbyterian Hospital

To those who stood by me-

-Fluffy

-Rob

-Kevin- Thanks for the ride home

And, with my thanks, and admiration to fellow cancer survivors, patients, and a professional-

-Stephanie 2

-Dave (R.I.P)

-Kitty

-Mrs. Kitty

-Mrs. Fluffy

-Musa Mayer

-Sv

And,

-Dr. Melissa Pilewskie

I took all the photos appearing in this Post over the first six days of February, 2017, except the photo of Musa Mayer, on January 10, 2017.

*- The Soundtrack for this Post is “Accept Yourself,” by The Smiths (who you can watch perform it in 1983!, below), written by Morrissey & Johnny Marr. Morrissey was 23, or 24 when he wrote this. Astounding. Its lyrics just fit-

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