Musicians

Table For One – Patti Smith’s “18 Stations”

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

One of the small pleasures of going to The Strand Bookstore are the quirky, usually ironically humorous yellow signs one of the staff places in random books. This one was sticking out of a just released book one day last October- Patti Smith’s “M Train,” featuring its author looking incognito sitting at a corner table by herself lost in thought…

October 30, 2015. I bought one.

Patti Smith, who many years ago briefly worked one floor down in The Strand’s basement, is a living legend now, but, she’s not stopping there.

From here to… The Strand’s basement. Not one of the 18 Stations. The “Patti Smith section” is now down here.

Beyond her groundbreaking music career, she’s had a second career as an award winning writer of prose, which seems to grow in stature all the time. “M Train,” which she calls “a roadmap to my life,” is both similar, and different, to her previous book, the instant classic “Just Kids.” While also a memoir, like “Just Kids” was centered on her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe, this time, it’s about her life before, during and after her late husband, Fred “Sonic” Smith, guitarist of the MC5. It differs, too, as her Polaroid photography is a central part of this book. While, she’s been doing photography for years, and books of them have been published, she seems liberated here by not having a brilliant photographer as the co-subject, one she felt a responsibility to, and who’s pictures of her are now classics. Her photos enhance the story and go hand in hand with her imaginative telling of it, which almost feels improvised (she mentions listening to John Coltrane’s 1964 album “Live at Birdland” at one point and that is how her writing here feels to me). The book serves to pique interest in this aspect of her creativity. Now, many of those photos, and others, are on view in her show, “18 Stations,” at Robert Miller Gallery on West 26th Street, through April 16.

 

 

3 of the “18 Stations.”

While rock stardom is rare, something few can relate to, along the way, she’s also become something many more can relate to- single, and on her own. The show arranges images from her seemingly never-ending travels from, and returns to her NYC homes, and her beloved Cafe ‘Ino, at 21 Bedford Street in the Village, (spoiler alert), which closes for good near the end of the book. At the figurative and literal “heart” of the show, half way back in the Gallery, in the first “Station,” is an installation of her real table and chair from Cafe ‘Ino (“My portal to where.”) flanked by a bulletin board containing what appears to be the genesis of this show on one wall, and pencilled notes hand written right on the adjacent wall, making me wonder if the show originated during her time there.

Table For One. The wall on the right is covered with her writing in pencil.

“It occurred to me I could preserve the history of ‘Ino…like an engraver etching the 23rd Psalm on the head of a pin.” The iconic first picture in M Train in a unique version with Patti’s pencil inscription in her caligraphic script.

“We seek to stay present, even as the ghosts attempt to draw us away.”

It’s as if the thoughts she was having while sitting there are now real before us, though she is absent.  The other 17 “Stations” tell the story of her journeys, partially with her late husband, “M Train” dedicatee, Fred “Sonic” Smith, but mostly alone.

2 more Stations.

Reading the book, one discovers quite a bit about the “real” Patti Smith- her unquenchable thirst for (good) coffee, her obsession with detective TV shows….which, of course, reminds me of a song. You know…”She’s filing her nails while they’re dragging the lake…”

…her amazing connectedness to her influences to the point of traveling to their homes, gravesites or other memorable places in their lives- like visiting the chess table Bobby Fischer played Boris Spassky for the World Championship in 1972 in Iceland (she then had a late night meeting with Mr. Fishcher, and subsequently visited his grave after he passed the following year). She remembers so many of her dreams! I don’t. She also has a love of birthdates and anniversaries. Along the way, we meet Tolstoy’s Bear, Herman Hesse’s typewriter, Frida Kahlo’s medicine bottles and Schiller’s portal. I mean oval table.

Schiller’s Table. This inscribed version is labelled Schiller’s Portal

If you’re curious about how she works, or how she goes about her daily life, this is the book for you. For the rest of us, its a book about honing in on what really matters to you, about persevering and continuing to do you work and hone your craft. We’re lucky to have it. I found myself wishing we had something similar by Da Vinci, to go along with his Notebooks, or Michelangelo, who left us about 500 letters and possibly ghost wrote a biography of himself, that is frustrating for many reasons, where Patti’s paints a vivid picture. The amount of detail she recalls is staggering (and perhaps a bit too much). Well? I can’t have it both ways, so I’ll opt for too much rather than not enough. It’s interesting to contrast this intense detailing in the prose with her photographs. Some are a bit blurry, some off center or kilter (see below) providing (purposely) less detail than you may want.

“Speak to me, speak to me heart
I feel a needing to bridge the clouds, softly go
A way I wish to know, to know
A way I wish to know, to know”*

While most of these Polaroids are silver gelatin limited edition prints of 10, a few of these remarkable and beautiful images are graced with her equally beautiful handwritten inscriptions creating one of a kind works, they all, consciously, have an old feel to them, belying the fact that some were taken barely 3 years ago, which gives them a dream-like, seen in a vision quality, which Ms. Smith says she likes about early photography. The effect strikes me as not unlike that achieved by the great graphic artists, like Rembrandt, Goya and Whistler.

Herman Hesse’s Typewriter. I would have guessed it was William Burrough’s.

It’s also interesting to ponder what isn’t- here, or in M Train. There is no Robert Mapplethorpe. There are no shots of the Hotel Chelsea, West 23rd Street or Chelsea. No CBGB’s (How many of you remember that Patti Smith was also the last Artist to perform there?). There are only a few (as far as I can tell) of Manhattan. The two shots of Cafe Imo, of course, a shot of the West 4th St Subway Station, a shot of her house, among them. In that sense, for someone who, (for me and perhaps quite a few others) is associated so strongly with New York City, this is a show (like the book) that is largely about the world “outside” of it. ‘Ino being the “portal” to it. Memories of people and places outside of Manhattan (even in the case of Ginsberg and Burroughs who spent so much time here).

“Speak to me, speak to me shadow
I spin from the wheel, nothing at all
Save the need, the need to weave
A silk of souls, that whisper, whisper
A silk of souls, that whispers to me”*

Among my dozen visits was one on April Fool’s when a few hundred of us were blessed to have our paths cross with hers at a reading here that served to highlight for me, at least, the conversational nature of both her recent books, then hearing her tell stories about them, and her life, in ways no “audio guide” ever could. I’ve heard a lot of Artists, and Musicians for that matter, speak about their work. Rarely have I felt like they were speaking of their children the way these stories felt. The memories behind each shot is so personally present, it lies as close to her skin as the image lies on the surface of the paper. Quite a few of the stories are told in the books, and hearing her read them changed the way I will re-read them. (I have not heard the audio books she’s done of them.).

I missed hearing Joyce read Ulysees, Kerouac read On The Road, Ginsberg read Howl, but…

I didn’t expect to hear her read from Just Kids, expecting this to be about M Train, but she did. I don’t know Patti, and didn’t know Robert Mapplethorpe, but I know well know the area much of the book inhabits, as well as some of the venues it takes place in, so the book lives in me, as few I’ve read do. Hearing her read it brought it alive, pulling it from the realm of “living history,” to something that, yes…really did happen. I pass by some of those places a few times a week.

Every single time I do I think about what happened there.

A fan’s tribute left leaning against the wall. April 15.

This is one of the most personal shows I’ve seen, certainly recently. I found myself returning to it over and over, like she did to Cafe ‘Imo. It’s like being able to walk around in someone’s memories, rather to get on a train and stop at each Station along her journey. Along the way, we encounter influences, living, passed and once living among you and now passed, objects that speak to a large meaning or significance, memories, hardship, distant places went to, seen and conquered. We see life being lived and places where it famously was lived. We see that life goes on, all the time, around us- everywhere, while weather happens, dirt gathers on graves, dandelions grow and stuffed bears eternally await calling cards.

M Train sweeps the dirt that accumulates on the many graves it visits, without need for tenders in traditional wear and using a literary broom to do so- the kind those buried within would possibly prefer. It’s a Testament to Life- surviving on your own, through deaths, Holidays without others, long trips, your birthday, sudden illness, blackouts, meeting legends, unexpected connections that prove life changing, and most of all, change. In the end, you can’t even go home any more.

___

Postscript, April 16-

Each of the dozen times I went to this show, I especially looked forward to seeing her table and chair from Cafe ‘Ino, which I show in the 6th photo above, and below.

Walking over there today for the last time, I asked myself – Why? Why do they “mean” so much to me?

I was never even in Cafe ‘Ino. I had to look it up on Apple Maps to even see where it was. I’d never met Patti Smith. I didn’t follow her music career very closely. I wasn’t aware of the extent of her work in photography.

?

I don’t get it.

I read Just Kids and loved it for many reasons, including those I mention above. One of those was the sense of the Manhattan that is now gone- both people and places lost, it so beautifully captures. Patti stands for that lost Manhattan for me for that reason and also because her music was a vital part of it. When I started reading M Train, all I knew about it was that it was about writing alone in a cafe. I could relate. I spent 10 years drawing alone in bars. Inside the book, the very first picture is of her table & chair in situ at Cafe ‘Ino. We’ve all lost a lot in our lives- it’s an inevitable part of living. Patti is no different. Neither am I. Neither are you.

When I reached the Gallery today, I walked down the hall and rounded the corner to visit their installation. When I looked in, I was stopped in my tracks completely in shock. The table and chair were taken.

Patti Smith was sitting there, alone, signing books.

At that moment, it hit me. What they say to me is that they speak for what’s been lost in her life. They, in ways even her pictures aren’t, are physical representatives of what’s been lost. They are still here. They are continuing with their “lives.” Like we all must- like Patti is.

For me? I feel so very lucky…so blessed. Getting to see her sitting in her chair at her table…NOTHING could have been a more fitting culmination to her show. Though, this was close…

Patti walks down memory lane one last time before her show ends. April 16.

“Speak to me heart
All things renew
Hearts will mend
‘Round the bend

Paths that cross
Cross again
Paths that cross
Will cross again”*

It is the ultimate “P.S.” to it.

As if the universe was saying to me- “P.S.- Life goes on.”

Hopefully.

*Soundtrack for this Post is “Paths That Cross” by Patti Smith, from her ablum, Land (1975-2002), written by Patricia Smith and Fred “Sonic” Smith, published by Druse Music. All other quotes in the text are from M Train by Patti Smith and published by Alfred A. Knopf.

January, 2019- This Post is dedicated to all the Patti Smith fans from around the world who’ve written to me about it. 

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How Jackson Became “POLLOCK” 

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

Jackson Pollock’s most famous works are so well known that many people think he painted using what’s (inaccurately) known as his “drip technique” his whole career. It seems there is always one of these radical, unprecedented works he created between 1947 through 1952 on display in about every large American Museum, works that garner as strong a reaction today as they did in the 1950’s. More recently, many probably came to him from the 2000 film, “POLLOCK”(all CAPS in red) with Ed Harris and Marcia Gay Harden, a personal labor of love for Mr. Harris that is quite well done, though it won’t give you a real sense of the road Jackson Pollock’s work traversed on the way to becoming “POLLOCK,” the one-name Icon the film takes for granted you know going in is JACKSON Pollock. The film’s poster (an homage to Hans Nemuth’s and Martha Holmes’ classic photos of the real Jackson Pollock at work in those later years) so memorably depicts the Artist hard at work, revolutionarily, on the floor and not at an easel, possibly in the act of creating one of those famous later works, that I often hear referred to as “Pollocks.” If you think that “Pollock” was “Jack The Dripper,” as Life Magazine called him, like most labels applied to Artists, it doesn’t tell the whole story about even those works, let alone what came before, and after.

A Postcard from the film’s release shows it’s poster. From my collection.

To see beyond the Icon, at MoMA’s Jackson Pollock: A Collection Survey, 1934-54, up through May 1, one is able to follow the outline, if not the detail, of his development in the space of only 3 galleries1, and see illuminating works before he achieved worldwide fame when Life Magazine famously asked- “Jackson Pollock: Is he the greatest living painter in the United States?” on August 8, 1949.

He began out west, hanging around with and taking classes with another late 20th Century American Master, Philip Guston2. After Pollock’s brother, Charles, also an aspiring Artist (and later an accomplished Artist in his own right), came to NYC and was studying at the New York Art Student’s League, still on West 57th Street, with no less than Thomas Hart Benton, he told Jackson about it which led to his moving here and joining him with Benton3 at the ripe age of 18.

Untitled (Western Scene), 1930-33. It almost could be by Benton.

 

Breaking out. Untitled, 1938-41. Still don’t think he could draw?

Benton went from being a fairly well known artist during his life to being eclipsed for most of the past 40 years or so (as was realism in Art in the age of Abstraction and Pop, thanks, in part, to his former student). Recently, Benton seems to be enjoying increased attention, helped by the return to view of his New School Murals after their donation to The Met, where they are now beautifully on display.

Yes, It’s 18 year old Jackson Pollock posing for his teacher, Thomas Hart Benton’s mural, America Today, now at The Met.

Benton was a resolutely figurative painter (I have seen one or two “abstractions” he did that may have been studies, and there are definitely elements of his “stretching” forms the way El Greco did that border on the fantastic if not the abstract. Some of these elements can be seen in the early Pollocks on display here). Pollock became, perhaps, the furthest thing from a Realist, Abstraction being the polar opposite of Realism4. Yet, early on, you can see fascinating traces of Benton’s influence in the developing student as he experiments with both mainstream and  “fantastic” elements of Benton’s work. The two share an interest in the West (JP was born in Cody, Wyoming) and Midwest, themes which occupy many of the early work seen here in the first room. Contrary, also, to the “Pollock myth,” Jackson Pollock was not always a New York City Proto-Beat (if he ever was one) dreamer/visionary. Gradually, the “known world” disintegrates and the figure soon follows. By the time of The She Wolf, from 1943, the last piece in the first room, “representational” Art is on the run to point that very close looking is required to see her.

The She Wolf, 1943.

What’s apparent to me, even early on, is that Pollock had the most amazing, even with Picasso notwithstanding, unprecedented freedom in his approach, and this skill(?), vision(?) became the center of all his future developments. As he broke free from the influence of Benton, he learned to trust his gut more and more, and this extended to virtually reinventing the technique of painting, sometimes from work to work, as he needed to, culminating in the sublime works from 1947-52, where he dripped paint from the can along with a wide range of other techniques- whatever it took to get his desired end.

“Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I’m frightened by the devil
And I’m drawn to those ones that ain’t afraid”*

Having made so many trips to the New Whitney Museum, I’ve been face to face with the incalculably large debt Art lovers owe to, at least, two women there- founder (and overlooked Sculptor) Mrs. Gertrude V. Whitney, of course, and to Josephine Hopper, Edward’s spouse and widow, who facilitated her husband’s wish that his archives go to the Whitney (she also included hers of her own work). Here, at Moma, I’m struck, again, by a similar feeling- look closely at the tags and you’ll see that many of the works here are “The Gift of,” or from the “Bequest of” another woman, spouse and widow- Lee Krasner.

Thank you, Lee Krasner. Your day better be coming.

All 3 women were artists in their own right. Jo Hopper and to a large extent, Lee Krasner put their own creative lives on hold for their husband’s. Oddly, a wonderful Krasner is on view UPSTAIRS on 5. It’s from 1949, right in the time period of  many of these works.

Lee Krasner, Untitled, 1949. NOT in this show! It’s on view on the 5th Floor. I’m putting it where it belongs.

So? Why isn’t it in this show? Possibly because of space, but they might have mentioned it being on view. At least it hasn’t suffered the fate of (possibly) all of Josephine Hopper’s work that she gave to the Whitney, with Edward’s estate- It was discarded BY THE WHITNEY as being subpar!5 A search for her on the Whitney’s website turns up none of her Art. That’s an incalculably stupid move! Gone is the chance to gain the insights into their relationship they may hold, let alone any ongoing appreciation of her own accomplishment! That’s gratitude for you. Coincidentally, there is a biography of Krasner by Hopper’s biographer, Gail Levin.

I bring this all up because I feel that Lee Krasner is the hidden star of the show. In addition to all the work that’s here largely because of her, it’s tempting to see the effect of Jackson Pollock’s having met her (in 1942) in his work. Turning the corner into Room 2 of the show you see something surprising, even shocking, yet apparent, at least to me- joy, light, happiness, even, even though Pollock’s work has become fully abstract. It’s Pollock’s Shimmering Substance from 1946-

“I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said
“Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed”*

After they married in 1945 the two moved to Springs, near East Hampton, Long Island, to get away from the City. Having visited Pollock’s house and studio (an indelible experience) while walking the grounds, I was taken by something I’ve never heard mentioned regarding 1947-1952 Pollock, the so-called “drip” years. When you walk down along the water there and look at the sand, you’ll see the seaweed that’s been washed up on the shore form these black lines. Against the yellow/golden sand, they look uncannily like the “black poles” you see in many of these pieces. And when you walk through the tall grasses in the area, all sorts of seeds, bugs, dust, and who knows what gets disturbed and becomes airborne. To this day, I can’t look at these classic Pollocks and not see something very similar- all those dots and spots in the works so remind me of that experience and what it really looked like.

Being in that studio, about 50 year later, was an experience I can only characterize as spiritual. Oh! And there’s a Lee Krasner sighting! (At the show’s entrance)

What does this remind you of? It’s Pollock’s Studio Floor, as it appeared when I was there in 1999. They provided these plastic booties, but there was no way I was going to walk on it- it’s a work of Art unto itself. Even in this picture (from a postcard I bought there), I think you can feel the aura of the place.

Jackson Pollock, looking Iconic, in his Studio by Arnold Newman, 1949. From a Postcard I got at the big Pollock Retrospective at Moma in 1998, the excellent website for  which is still up..

“I remember that time you told me you said
“Love is touching souls”
Surely you touched mine
‘Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you’re in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet

Oh I could drink a case of you darling
And I would still be on my feet
I would still be on my feet”*

So, for me at least, these Jackson Pollock classics have more of a sense of “realism” than they may for some.

One: Number 31, 1950

“Just before our love got lost you said
“I am as constant as a northern star”
And I said “Constantly in the darkness
Where’s that at?
If you want me I’ll be in the bar”*

Unfortunately, the happiness and tranquility of their new life together wasn’t destined to last. Whatever the demons were (and they will probably be argued about for as long as Van Gogh’s have been), they manifested in his life, and in his work. Selden Rodman is quoted in the Pollock Anthology, Such Desperate Joy, talking about this period and the Artist’s struggles- “He had been trying to freshen up or diversify his style by reintroducing figures, or at least figurative patterns, in the maze of paint.6.” Though represented here with only a few pieces, it seems to me that Pollock “lost his fastball” after 1952. While the most common reaction to his classic period was famously “My 5 year old can do that,” (Really? Try it. It’s not THAT easy), after 1952, even Jackson Pollock seemed not to be able to do them any more. Or? He wanted to move on…but to what?

Easter And The Totem, 1953. Yes, this is also by Jackson Pollock.

Yes, his life ended tragically and far too early. I’m not interested in a tell-all about his demons, or scandals or the nights drinking at the Cedar Tavern, where I’ve spent a few myself. I’m interested in that incredible freedom you can see in almost all of his work. How was he able to make a composition hold together while continually creating new styles and using new techniques? Where did that come from?

“Oh but you are in my blood
You’re my holy wine
You’re so bitter, bitter and so sweet

Oh, I could drink a case of you darling
Still I’d be on my feet
I would still be on my feet”*

In the end, Jackson Pollock strikes me as one of the “most” American of painters in the 20th Century, if not ever. I’m not speaking of patriotism or anything nationalistic. I’m speaking about organically American. His work was born in the freedom of the wide open spaces of the west and midwest, but most importantly speaks to the freedom each of us has…

 

if we choose not to repress it, but to acknowledge it, nurture it, develop it and use it.

Interesting timing for such a show.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Case of You,” by Joni Mitchell, (who is also a Painter- FOR 69 YEARS, according to her website!), from her timeless album, Blue, 1971. 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. MoMA owns many more Pollocks not on view here. ↩
  2. Their adventures are chronicled in Guston’s daughter’s, the Breast Cancer Activist, Musa Meyer’s book, Night Studio. ↩
  3. For more on Charles & Jackson’s relationship and to see some of Charles’ work, check out American Letters: 1927-47, a collections of letters among the Pollock family. It’s a revealing document of trying to survive as an Artist in the Depression and on. ↩
  4. Which reminds me that I heard Richard Estes say at MAD that “in abstract art there are no mistakes” ↩
  5. “They arranged for some of her paintings to be given away; they simply discarded the rest.” Edward Hopper; An Intimate Biography by Gail Levin p. xvi ↩
  6. p. 49 ↩

The Greatest German Reality Show Star, circa 1700

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“My mama told me when I was young
We are all born superstars”*

Portrait of Matthias Buchinger, 1705

However you were born, the odds are you were more naturally capable right out of the box than Matthias Buchinger, who’s birth left him without hands or feet, and who stood a total of 29 inches (74cm) high. Yet, none of that stopped him from rising to the level of being called “The Greatest Living German” in 1726. Pretty darn lofty, for anyone. A Special Exhibition, Wordplay: Matthias Buchinger’s Drawings from the Collection of Ricky Jay, currently at The Met shows that, astoundingly, he nonetheless proves the equal of just about any other Artist in the entire Metropolitan Museum when it comes to technical proficiency. It will, also, give you pause for thought the next time you feel “incapable.”

When you do? Consider this- Many of the works he created, which are now rare, but astutely collected by Master Magician, Ricky Jay over the past 30 years, are tiny to begin with. Add to this that Matthias Buchinger (MB) was so adept at holding his pen between his “stumps” he was able to write forwards, backwards, upside down or in the most minute sizes possible to the extent that he created drawings out of minuscule words, an Art called Micrography. A close up look at one small portrait of him reveals that his hair is made up of nothing but very tiny words- a couple Psalms and the Lord’s Prayer.  The entire show probably takes up 400 square feet- not even big for a gallery show. Yet rarely will you find so much packed into each square inch.

An index-finger sized rendering of The 10 Commandments by Mr. Buchinger is so small I couldn’t read it with the magnifier.

While his Art is being honored in this show, as amazing as it is, it barely scratches the surface of what MB was capable of.

Buchinger surrounded by depictions of some of his skills.

He made his living touring Europe demonstrating the full range of his talents to the high & mighty as well as the common folk, in magic, calligraphy, making miniatures in bottles(!), threading a needle, loading a gun, shaving himself, playing music (he created some of his own instruments), playing games, among other things. Oh, and he was married 4 times and fathered 11 to 14 children!1

The second floor Drawings gallery, where the show is installed, is one of the must-see spaces in The Met. Shows change every 6-8 weeks here giving The Museum a chance to show off its extraordinary collection. Still, out of all the wonders I’ve seen in this space the past 14 years, I haven’t seen anything more consistently amazing than Wordplay.

I know what you’re thinking- today’s so-called “reailty” show stars wouldn’t even be good enough to apprentice on MB’s show!

Coat of Arms, 1738, Pen and ink on vellum, the last known work by Matthias Buchinger includes a self-portrait and autobiographical paragraph in the lower margin. Bear in mind this entire work is about letter size.

“I’m beautiful in my way,
‘Cause God makes no mistakes
I’m on the right track, baby
I was born this way”*

Was he the greatest disabled Artist of all time? I have no idea. I’ve been blown away by the work of Chuck Close (brilliant before his brain aneurysm, continually evolving in ever new ways since), and Hendrik Goltzius, a Graphic Artist possibly on par with Durer despite having a severely deformed drawing hand, among others, and they are all beacons of what the human spirit is capable of, in the Arts as in so many other aspects of life. Yet, I can’t say I’ve seen anything quite like that of the Art of the “Little Man of Nuremberg,”

R-E-S-P-E-C-T. The Greatest German Living, a poem to Buchinger, 1726

“Don’t hide yourself in regret
Just love yourself and you’re set
I’m on the right track, baby
I was born this way, born this way”*

MB was, however, forced to turn to being a carnival side show act to gain appreciation for his abilities as an Artist as well as his many other skills, and to survive. The show includes a few works by other Artists of the same era who were also born without hands or feet, who made their living in the same manner. A “broadside” poster announcing the appearance of one is on view. MB would demonstrate his writing talents for show attendees for a fee and some of these souvenirs are on view here. (The Portrait of him surrounded by depictions of his skills bears his hand written inscriptions on the bottom margin.) Invariably, he always proceeds his signature with “Born without hands or feet…”

A portrait of Thomas Inglefield, also born without hands or feet, shows how Mr. Buchinger may have worked his magic.

Seeing all of this, and a smidgen of what life may have been like for these Artists in the 18th Century, it’s hard not think about the bigger picture.

Anonymous, Portrait of Johanna Sophia Liebschern, ca.1780-90,  the so-called “Fusskunstlerin,” or foot artist, as the piece is inscribed. It goes on to say, “she has no arms but is able to use knife, fork, and spoon with her left foot and feed herself, (and) is able to prettily write, sew, draw, cut a quill pen, load and shoot a pistol.” Like MB, Ms. Liebschern enjoyed considerable fame in her time, both voyeuristic and scientific.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with lovin’ who you are
She said, ’cause He made you perfect, babe
So hold your head up,
girl and you’ll go far”*

Thankfully, for the disabled, to my mind THE most overlooked group in our society, things seem to have gotten a little better. But, what do I know. I asked Magdalena Truchan, Fashion Guru, Designer, Artist and Blogger Extraordinaire over at her must read Blog, prettycripple.com, that very question- “Have things gotten better for disabled Artists?” She told me-

“I think lots of things have gotten better for disabled artists. They can make a living online as well and the world gets to see what they offer. There are so many groups out there that I come across who help disabled people. I read these things and smile. They have a better networking system today and while discrimination still exists people in the US don’t treat disabled people as lepers. Same in Europe. Life must have been hell for disabled people until the 70s in this country. Also, because of the the “bullying” problem for all people, now people are standing up to them and outing them on social media. So now it is un-PC to bully people. We have a long way to go but at least people have another avenue to voice themselves. You also see more disabled models and actors now. Although some disabled people on TV are not legit cripples. They are able bodied and stuck in chairs which sucks, but at least they are portraying disabled people.”

While it’s good to hear that, so much remains to be done for the disabled. I can’t help but wonder if part of the root of the cause of this slow progress might be that able-bodied people are secretly terrified of becoming disabled.? Even in this very show, the work is hung too high for wheelchair visitors to see, and though magnifying glasses are thankfully on hand, unless you are a bit over 6 feet tall, the higher works will still remain unavailable for close study, as you can see below. It must be a very frustrating experience for the disabled to come to this show. On the one hand they’ll be as impressed as anyone else by the work, but (unnecessarily) frustrated by the experience. What kind of message does this send?

The show is hung for the average size, or taller, standing adult.

That being said, this show is, also, a fascinating insight into the wondrous collection of Ricky Jay, renowned as the greatest living Sleight-of-Hand Artist and historian of its related arts, and who says that MB is “my flat-out favorite. I’ve been collecting materials on him for 30 years.2” Mr. Jay is someone who has spent his entire life mastering his craft, that way a great Painter or Musician does, all the while thoroughly exploring its history, researching its forgotten Masters, collecting rare books, artifacts and works of Art they created. This show is, therefore, is something of a byproduct of how he became who he is today. From what is on view here, the man has superb taste and a most discerning eye.

Be careful, Mr. Bond, or Ricky will turn your gun into a rabbit! Yes, that's the inimitable Ricky Jay in "Tomorrow Never Dies."

Be careful, Mr. Bond, or Ricky will turn your gun into a rabbit! Yes, that’s the inimitable Ricky Jay in the James Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies.

It leaves me eager to see more of his collection, so I hope it marks the beginning of a relationship between TM and the inimitable Mr. Jay. For more on him, check out the two excellent documentaries, Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay, which airs as part of PBS’ American Masters series, and, Hustlers, Hoaxters, Pranksters And Ricky Jay, here on youtube.

Isle of View. Untitled by Rachel Harrison from her Perth Amboy Show at MoMA. Does Art Have to be this hard to see?

While “Wordplay” is a shining example of attention being paid to an extraordinary and overlooked Artist- disabled, or not, in a show that will inspire all, it’s one thing to honor this Artist, it’s another to make it largely inaccessible to disabled visitors. I’m not sure that helps inspire other disabled Artists, or disabled people, and that’s a shame. (Luckily, however, the excellent catalog for the show, by Mr. Jay, features beautiful, clear and full size reproductions of many of the works on display, along with Mr. Jay’s one-0f-a-kind insights. I found I could see the works better in the book than by actually looking at the real thing). It says to me that The Met’s interest here lies in the Art itself, and while I understand that, I think they missed a chance to include more of the Art going public, namely the group that includes these wonderful Artists, themselves.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is”Born This Way,” by Lady Gaga, written by NYC’s own Stefani Germanotta, Jeppe Laursen, Fernando Garibay and Paul Blair, from the album of the same title and published by Sony ATV Music Publishing, Warner Chappell Music Inc. and Universal 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. Ok..ok…I’ll insert the famous Groucho Marx joke- “I like my cigar, too, but I take it out once in a while.” Sorry. ↩
  2. http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/ricky-jay-collection/3649/ ↩

Zaha Hadid, And The “Rule Of One”

“I was taught to go
Where the wind would blow
And it blows away – away
Well, my eyes are full of stars
But I just can’t reach ’em… oh, how high they are”*

Once again this year, I’m very saddened to learn of the very premature passing of a visionary Artist, in this case, the great Architect, Zaha Hadid, who passed on Thursday. Rare are architects who marry vision with a unique syle in this world and create Art in the process. Rarer still when they are female. I happened to date one in the 90’s, who found it very hard to get work as an Architect because she was a woman and had to rely on work she got as an Engineer to suvive. Sometimes they had her do work which was really Architecture in the guise of Engineering because they couldn’t use the name of a woman as the Architect, and because, she said, they could pay her less. I’ll never forget going with her to a nightclub she designed near Dusseldorf, Germany that had a dance floor that could be raised and lowered using a system of locks, yes, with water, (like those used on the Panama Canal in miniature). The floor was clear so you could actually watch the water coming and going as you danced. As the water flowed in, the slowly floor rose until you were a few feet in the air. Amazing. She even designed the furniture in the place. As for Zaha Hadid, to this point, in New York, I have only been able to experience the terrific 30 year Retrospective of her work at the Guggenheim in 2006. It was a rare chance (along with the Frank Gehry Show there in 2000) to see the work of one great Architect inside that of another, Frank Lloyd Wright, of course.

While their work is very different, I have a feeling Wright wouldn’t have been too hard on Ms. Hadid. There is a futuristic organic-ness to her work that surprises at first glance, then seems to, somehow magically, fit her sites surprisingly & uniquely well. Plus, I think he would have gotten a kick out of the paintings she did for her design proposals. I know I did, having never seen them prior. I bought a set of two of them on refrigerator magnets to add to my extensive collection, and for inspiration!

DSC03371PNH

The white painting on the left echoes Wright’s Guggenheim Ramp’s Spiral!

Now, sadly, however, upon hearing the news of her passing, I was struck by a feeling I don’t like at all- It seems to me that this is another instance of what I hate to call, “The Rule of One.”

Meaning, it sure seems like great Architects only get to build one building, each, in NYC.

Witness-

Louis Sullivan, the “inventor” of the skyscraper, only built one in NYC, the beautiful Bayard Building in 1899 at 65 Bleecker Street.

Frank Lloyd Wright, Sullivan’s great student, and, perhaps, the greatest Architect ever (per Frank Lloyd Wright, himself), has only the Guggenheim Museum (I’m not counting the Mercedz Benz Showroom on Park Avenue he designed because it’s a showroom, not a whole building, nor the pre-fab house he designed that was built on Staten Island). He lived to be 91, and it took that long to get a project approved, and past Robert Moses, who succeeded in blocking all the rest of his amazing NYC projects, like these. Eerily similar to Ms. Hadid’s contribution (see below), he didn’t live to see it completed, passing 6 months before it opened.

Wright, in my favorite picture of him, on the balcony of the Guggenheim, under construction, that he would not live to see open. Guggenheim postcard from my collection.

“If I can make it here…” Wright, in my favorite picture of him, on the balcony of the Guggenheim, under construction, 1959. Guggenheim postcard from my collection.

Daniel Liebeskind- Won the competition for the World Trade Center master plan, but so far, he hasn’t had anything of his own actually constructed. (I have no idea where things stand with his “Green Tower” for 1 Madison Avenue, proposed in 2008. Looks pretty wild to me!)

Santiago Calatrava- The infamous World Trade Center Transit Hub. (Like Liebeskind’s Tower, I have no idea what happened to Calatrava’s, too.)

Frank Gehry has, thankfully, outlived the Rule of One, with his gleaming tower downtown at 8 Spruce (nee Beekman) Street, (a work that includes Public Elementary School 397 that I don’t believe he designed), joining his beautiful IAC Headquarters Building at 555 West 18th Street.

Gehry's IAC Building- like sails on the adjacent Hudson River. Seen from the HighLine.

Gehry’s IAC Building- like sails on the adjacent Hudson River. Seen from the HighLine.

Though, like Wright, all of his most visionary works for NYC were never built. Mr Gerhy is still creating, and I hope he will still grace us with more projects, soon.

And now, Zaha Hadid, who’s only NYC building, she didn’t live to see completed. Well, here it is, 520 West 28th Street, about 10 blocks north of Frank Gehry’s gorgeous IAC Building, above, and right smack dab on the High Line.

It's scheduled to open in the Fall.

Rendering. It’s scheduled to open in the Fall.

From the rendering, above, it looks like a beautiful, surprisingly almost conventional design, yet one that will leave us appreciative of what it adds to our lives (even just walking past it), and of her amazing talents.

April 1, 2016. No work taking place today out of respect for Ms. Hadid's passing. A compilation from the HighLine.

April 1, 2016. No work taking place today out of respect for Ms. Hadid’s passing. From the HighLine.

“All I believe in is a dream
I haunt the Earth though I am fully seen
In all my years I’ve never felt more sure than now”*

Yet, everytime I see it, as it’s completed, and after it’s finished, I’ll be left with this overriding thought-

WHY is it that so many mediocre Architects get to build project after project here (I’m not naming names but just look around. They’re easy to spot.) and the best get ONE…IF THEY’RE LUCKY!, AND have to move figurative heaven and earth to get it? They’d much rather be moving real earth.1

While I’ll be eternally grateful we have it, as I am the others I just listed, in this City where we have the second most tall buildings (over 150 meters) in the world (236 to Hong Kong’s 380. Chicago has 118, the only other US City in the worldwide top 20), nowhere is the need for great architecture more desperate.

It does, also, make a real point for any struggling Artist in this City, if not beyond- It’s not easy to get your work done, seen, heard, or built here. Even being a world famous Master of the Art is not an Ezy Pass to opportunity here.

It also points out that our loss is all the more in that we don’t know what might have been, and therefore, what we might have lost.

I’ll say it, again…before it’s, god forbid, too late- let’s get Frank Gehry to give us the masterpiece the City needs to define it for the 21st Century. PLEASE?2

*Soundtrack for this post is “Rise To The Sun” by Alabama Shakes, from their album “Boys & Girls,” written by Steven William Johnson, Zachary Riley Cockrell, Brittany Amber Howard, Heath Allen Fogg, and published by Alabama Shakes Publishing.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 7 years, during which over 275 full length pieces have been published!
If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below.
Thank you, Kenn.

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. I mentioned this here, not all that long ago. ↩
  2. Yes, I notice that his 8 Spruce Street Tower is being used more and more in skyline shots behind the Brooklyn Bridge as seen from the Brooklyn East River shore, and that’s nice, but that darn Freedom Tower thing is in the background. The need remains! ↩

Riffing On Miles Davis

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

Here we go, again. Or, to quote the late, great Eddie Jefferson in “Moody’s Mood for Love”- “Here I Go, Here I Go, Here I Go, Again…”

The film, Miles Ahead, gives me cause for concern. No, I haven’t seen it yet. I’m not sure I’m going to see it. Why? Probably for the same reasons I didn’t go to see the Steve Jobs movie. While I’m all for artistic freedom and creative license, as time goes on it seems that “docudramas” that purport to be “about” someone real tend to paint incomplete pictures of their subject. They “riff” on them. Whether they are “good” movies, or not, whether they do any justice to the truth of their subject, or not, the public comes to base their opinions of their subjects on these films. Sometimes, (like Lady Sings The Blues “about” Billie Holiday, which “incongruously transforms Holiday’s messy, bisexual, masochistic romantic history into a glossy romance about a troubled, needy woman-child and the endlessly patient dreamboat who could slow but never entirely halt her march toward self-destruction,” according to Nathan Rabin of The Onion AV Club), even worse, they may leave them feeling there’s no need for them to look past the film for themselves. (Both Billie Holiday and Miles Davis wrote Autobiographies.)

This is very sad.

I’m hoping the film, whatever it’s “about,” will inspire viewers to want to hear more of Miles’ music, ideally, all of it, and that will be the primary result of it.

Last time I checked, very few Artists or Musicians had been canonized as saints, though in my personal Church of Art, they’re revered to me. They’re human. They had flaws. Some did very bad things. Allegedly committed crimes, even murder. Some did drugs, and weren’t exactly nice or easy people to know. Miles Davis has been accused of doing some bad things. Does creating great timeless Art or Music that effects millions of people make that Ok? That’s not for me to say.

Larger Than Life. Miles in a 4 foot poster from Tutu. From my collection.

I do know this-

Miles Davis was probably the most influential Artist in my life. While I never met him, his signature and mine actually did wind up on the same piece of paper once, a few inches apart, and I was fortunate enough to see him perform about 40 times. That’s as close as I got to him. But, his music, especially his albums? They’ve been closer- they’ve been a part of me since I learned how to work a record player.

When his album Bitches Brew came out, only the latest in a string of game changing albums he released every few years, it was so controversial, it led to the break up of the band I was in at the time. At that point I was playing electric bass in a friend’s blues band, and listening to jazz. After Bitches Brew, an unprecedented mix of jazz, rock, funk, avant garde, and what came to be called “world music,” and the first-shot-over-the-bow that something very new and different was going to be happening hence forth, a lot of us realized it was possible to play electric instruments and play jazz. So, I started looking around for a band to do that with, eventually found one, and went on the road with them for five years. They were all far more accomplished musicians than I was. Miles was a legend, even back then, to all of them, too. He has been as long as I can remember.

It’s hard to think about the impact that every single one of Miles’ albums had at the time it came out, going back to the Birth of the Cool, which is exactly what it was, in the late 1940’s . It must’ve been like Picasso creating a new work to the artists of his time. Miles had the ability to move mountains with every new album. Musicians would listen to them and think about them vis a vis what they were doing. Miles was always Miles beyond. In fact, all of his albums from the late 60’s bore the moniker “Directions in Music by Miles Davis.” That said it all. With Bitches Brew, people began to argue that it “wasn’t jazz.” If you had followed the thread of his music through the 1960’s, you could hear where he was going and you could also hear the same thing that always defined Miles, more than anything else- His sound.

No one could play a melody like Miles. And then, no one else had his sound.

He started the 1960’s fresh off what is widely considered the greatest jazz record ever made- Kind of Blue  in 1959. His 1960 group, now referred to as his “First Great Quintet” included that other great master of post war jazz improvisation- the tenor saxophonist, John Coltrane. The two couldn’t be more different, and made perfect foils for each other. Miles was the inventor of space- what Artists call “negative shapes,” that is, what isn’t there- in music’s case, silence. Miles could say more with less than any Artist in Jazz history- even with one note. (Even when I heard him in a concert late in his career, racked will illness and apparently having trouble moving on stage, there would be that one moment, that one note that would sear the night and make your jaw drop. The silence that inevitably followed making it infinitely more poignant.) John Coltrane was on his way to developing what became his signature “sheets of sound” style, would solo after Miles and his voluminous brilliance would serve to frame Miles the way black velvet sets off a diamond. Of him, Miles famously once said, “I had 7 Tenor players once.” Coltrane left to form his own group, but somehow Miles managed to put together another great group- his, so-called “Second Great Quintet” with Wayne Shorter on Tenor, Herbie Hancock on Piano, Ron Carter on Bass and Drummer Tony Williams. As the sum of its parts, this band of Masters, was, for me, the pinnacle. To this day, I revere every note I have heard them play in the slightly over 2 years they were together as I do no other group I have heard. No group has taken the art form of the acoustic jazz quintet further.

Then, it changed, again. He went from the Second Great Quintet to an increasingly more electric sound. This was the mid-1960’s and rock and funk were influencing him. Herbie and Wayne remained for the first few albums, and then they, too, left and were replaced by people like Keyboardists Joe Zawinul, Keith Jarrett & Chick Corea, Guitarist John McLaughlin, Bassist Dave Holland, Drummer Jack DeJohnette, and many others, quite a number of whom went on to have had long and important careers.

Today, Miles’ influence is everywhere. His legacy lives on. While many of his side men, like Hancock, Shorter, Corea, Jarrett, Holland, Marcus Miller, Mike Stern, et al, are still among the biggest names in jazz, his legacy is being handed down to their side men, and on it goes. For me, a day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear a piece of his.

So? Why do I dread this movie?

Because unless you grew up with this, it’s really hard to capture on film. Jazz was (and still is) a very hard way to make a living- mostly in small clubs in an environment filled with drugs, alcohol, crime, trouble and little to no money for most. Yes, there was  scandal and a lot of controversy in Miles’s life. It’s very easy to make a drama out of it. I hope that’s not all it does. To do so, would be to miss the point.

From here, to eternity. My other 4 foot "Tutu" Poster. This one, the cover shot.

From here, to eternity. My other 4 foot Tutu Poster by Irving Penn. This one, the classic cover shot of “The Prince of Darkness.”

It would be to miss why Miles is an Artist for the ages.

While I don’t believe in comparing Artists qualitatively, I do think it can be illuminating to see similarities and differences between them. Miles is often called “the Picasso of Jazz,” and I can understand why- Their lives largely overlapped (Picasso- 1881-1973, Miles 1926-1991. Miles also painted.) They both refused to be pigeonholed, and changed styles as frequently as it suited them. They both continued to grow and evolve as Artists literally right up to the very end. When I think about Picasso and Miles Davis, I wonder if the total number of pieces Picasso created may be very similar to the total number of performances that Miles Davis gave, when you consider live and studio performances. Though Miles was infrequently in the studio during large portions of his career, he was active as a live performer. Whatever the total numbers might be, the two are similar in that they were both extraordinarily prolific.

Picasso was very aware of the history of art and what was going on in and around him, witness his long relationships with Matisse, Braque, among others, Miles immediately sought out, then played with Charlie “Bird” Parker, the greatest musician of his time, soon after arriving in NYC to study at Julliard, and, startling to many, the  young unknown, barely out of his teens, was asked by Bird to join his group. Interestingly, as time went on, Miles, in turn, nurtured the careers (to varying degrees) of the likes of John Coltrane, Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul and Herbie Hancock among many others. He was also very aware of what people like Jimi Hendrix and later, Prince, were doing, and played with both.

Along with Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong and a few others, his performances of standards define them.

Along with this, the kid from East St Louis, Illinois wound up sonically defining New York City. It’s impossible for me to listen to Kind of Blue, which may be the greatest improvisation in music history, without seeing a tone poem of New York City in my mind each time. (A live performance shortly after its recording, with John Coltrane-)

No one else I have ever heard, in any kind of music, has come closer to it. A couple of years ago the Village Voice  ran a list of the greatest New York City songs. Nothing from Kind of Blue, which was recorded on 30th Street in Manhattan, made the list. Someone is out of their mind. Kind of Blue celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2009. Get back to me on how some of the songs the Voice picked are doing in 50 years. The “cool” sound, style and attitude he created, and embodied, in the 1950’s became en vogue everywhere, nowhere more than right here.

Maybe one day I’ll see the film and feel my fears were for naught. Miles Davis made a unique and extremely valuable contribution to music, to American and World culture. Even though he didn’t die that long ago, this contribution is already in danger of beginning to be forgotten. This is not something to be taken lightly. His legacy is important- to me and countless others. I’m writing this to express how I feel about Miles (and “riff” about him the way the film may), and to say that I hope anyone interested in him hear as much of his music as you can1

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. Miles created a long legacy of recorded music, and changes styles of music more often than almost anyone else has. Kind of Blue, seems to be where most people start. After that, I’ve written an entire piece called “Directions In Listening By Miles Davis”Directions In Listening By Miles Davis” with some thoughts on what to check out next. He also wrote an Autobiography. So, get to know him through those and make your own mind up about him. If you want to know what’s really important about Miles, do yourself a favor- Go to the source- start with his music. It’s a font that will be inspiring millions for as long as music is played.

    Yes, Miles Davis was a complex man by all accounts. Like Steve Jobs, people will be trying to understand him and tell stories, even make films about him for many years to come. Both were, by all accounts, incredibly complex men. That alone makes it very hard to do them justice in a 2 hour film. Some love Miles, some loathe him, many found him scary, difficult or impossible to deal with. All I know is that Miles, the Artist, is one of the greatest Artists in music- that’s what’s important, and the rest is, now, details. If you go and see the film, keep this in mind and try and imagine the effect his music had at the time and how often it changed the musical world. That doesn’t happen often. How many Artists take those kinds of risks anymore? How many risk losing their audience? And how many do it over, and over, and over, and over, again? That’s a big part of his legacy that shouldn’t be forgotten, and one I hope will be emulated by those still being influenced by him, those who want to get to the heart of what’s really important, like this-

    Next time you listen to Miles, listen for that one note that says more than words ever can- it’s there in every one of his performances, and then listen for the silence.

    *Soundtrack for this post is “It Never Entered My Mind” as performed by Miles on “Cookin’ & Steamin’ with the Miles Davis Quintet” (there are other versions), a long time personal favorite. It was written by Richard Rogers & Lorenz Hart and published by Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

    POSTSCRIPT- June 20, 2020- I finally did see Miles Ahead. I found Don Cheadle’s performance to be amazing. It’s obvious to me how much care and passion he put into this film. Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter appear onstage during the final credits, which makes me believe they had some level of awareness of the film’s content, though I am not saying they gave their approval to it- I simply don’t know. Still, it strikes me as a dramatization, and as such, it’s fine as an ancillary source. I still say- go to the source (if you’re looking for a visual source, check out the new documentary film, Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool, which ran on PBS’ American Masters series in early 2020), get familiar with Miles’ accomplishment, and his own words, and then, if you’re looking to see his life interpreted dramatically, riffed on, by someone else, check out the film. If not, you are selling Miles, and yourself, short, if the film is all you know about him. It reminds me of the dramas being done on Picasso, that other endlessly creative 20th century Artist. That they keep Miles’ and Picasso’s name in front of the public is good, I guess, but if that’s as far as the public’s interest goes, and they don’t discover who these people REALLY were for themselves? They are left with distorted views, which is what I feared when I wrote the above in March of 2016, and this is not good, in my opinion.

    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. [paypal-donation ↩

Rachel Harrison & The Question of Faith

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

IMG_3909PNH

“Your faith was strong but you needed proof”*

Perfectly timed for Easter is Rachel Harrison’s Moma show, “Perth Amboy,” a multi-media installation centered around a well-known series of photographs1, including “Untitled,” above, Ms. Harrison took in October, 2001 at a suburban house in Perth Amboy, New Jersey that had gotten wide attention when thousands of Christians began coming to see what they believed was the image of the Virgin Mary on a window on the house’s second floor. Her photos show some of those who were allowed in to touch the pane.

Could it REALLY be?

This is the question at the center of all religious faith.

“And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above”*

 

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Hallelujah” written by Leonard Cohen ( Published by Sony/ATV Music Publishing), in the version by Jeff Buckley on his mystical, magical and transcendent album, “Grace,” which has been seen 68 MILLION times. Thank God.

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. There are examples from the series in the collections of The Met, The Whitney as well as Moma. ↩

The Five Foot Assassin, The Funky Diabetic…R.I.P., Phife Dawg

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

Damn! 2016 has been one sucky year. So far, we’ve lost-

–Pierre Boulez

–David Bowie

–George Martin

…and now Malik Taylor, aka the one and only Phife Dawg, of a band I love like few others- A Tribe Called Quest, who passed, today, at the tragically young age of 45, due to complications from the diabetes he’s had since 1990. The 4 of these lost Artists equal a sizable part of my musical listening life. As for Phife, who immortalized himself in one line-

“When was the last time you heard a funky diabetic?”#

Answer- Never. He speaks best for himself.

“Yo, microphone check one two what is this
The five foot assassin with the ruffneck business
I float like gravity, never had a cavity
Got more rhymes than the Winans got family

No need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame
No shame in my game cause I’ll always be the same
Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have
You want to diss the Phifer but you still don’t know the half

I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path
Messing round with this you catch the sizing of em?
I never half step cause I’m not a half stepper
Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper

Refuse to compete with BS competition
Your name ain’t Special Ed so won’t you Seckle With the Mission
I never walk the streets, think it’s all about me
Even though deep in my heart, it really could be

I just try my best to like go all out
Some might even say yo shorty black you’re buggin’ out”*

I saw A Tribe Called Quest 4 indelible times in the 90’s, including once on New Year’s Eve at the Palladium, as I mentioned earlier, and one time when I drove all the way to Asbury Park, NJ with a friend who had never heard of them, to see them in a bar/small club. We stood up on the top of the booths along the wall to try and see them, the place was so packed. Seeing them in such a small room (it was closer to a bar than a club, size-wise. A small bar.) was a completely different thing than seeing them in a show at the large halls they would play thereafter.

Tribe Source 9.1998P2NH

Can I Kick It? (L-R)Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Q-Tip & Phife Dawg. On Point. All The Time. The Source, Sept, 1996. From my collection.

For most, Tribe defines what’s called “Old School” today. I hate labels, as I’ve said. For me, Tribe represented, and will always represent good music.Their music that has stood up for the test of 25 years, and counting, so far. Well, you can stop counting. It’s here to stay. They’ve never left my iPod/iPhone and are still among the most played when I look at my song count totals, even after all these years. Why? In spite of some dated references here and there (“Mr. Dinkins will you please be my Mayor?”Classic!), it’s GOOD MUSIC, and it’s as fresh as anything happening right now. Tribe was many things to many people, and still are (including a big influence to quite a few, like him.). I loved how Tribe melded jazz elements, (including the great Ron Carter on bass on “Verses From The Abstract”) into the mix, and so were a big part of the continuum of the music that goes back to the bebop era jazz Q-Tip raps about his dad listening to.

“My pops used to say, it reminded him of be-bop
I said, well daddy don’t you know that things go in cycles”+

Thay had the jazz, to paraphrase a title.

"We bounce off each other like Yin & Yang, nice and smooth, you know?" Phife said last year. Great groups have a chemistry I've never been able to define. From some unknown magazine, circa 2000, after "the Love Movement" came out. From my collection.

“We bounce off each other like Yin & Yang, nice and smooth, you know?” Phife said last year. Great groups have a chemistry I’ve never been able to define. From some unknown magazine, circa 2000, after “the Love Movement” came out. From my collection.

In “The Source” article, above, Phife says, he doesn’t think they’ll ever break up(p. 110), but, sadly, that didn’t come to pass, and they did after “The Love Movement,” in 1998. A must see documentary, “Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest” came out in 2011 and ever since I lived in hope they’d reunite to record and tour, especially since Q-Tip has continued to grow as an Artist with his terrific solo albums, along with Phife’s own excellent solo album, “Ventilation, Da LP,” in 2000. There was so much individual growth, the next Tribe album HAD to be another classic and put them right back on top. Alas, the only time I got to see or hear of them since was what turned out to be their final performance, on “The Tonite Show” last November.

And now, like The Beatles and The Smiths, that dream is over.

“You on point Phife?
All the time, Tip”@

What I love most about Phife is that he had the gift of bringing you into his life and let you walk around in it. His style sounded so fresh it was impossible to tell if he had written it or if he was freestyling as you listened to him. While Chuck D saw the big picture, and Tip brought that timeless “Miles Davis-NYC Cool” to Hip Hop, Phife was holding it down in ways the rest of us could relate to.

“When this kid tried to tell me I didn’t deserve my occupation
He said I wasn’t shit that I was soon to fall
I looked him up and down, grab my crotch and said balls
Of course he tried to bring it on the battling tip
Ay, you know me, you know I had to come out my shit
Trying to lounge at the mall, meet Skef and Mr Walton
Finally I banged his ass wit the verbal assault
He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickelbags of weed
That’s when I preceeded to give him what he needed
Talking ’bout I need a Phillie right before I get loose
Poor excuse, money please, I get loose off of orange juice
Preferly Minute Maid cuz that’s exactly what it takes
To write a rhyme, huh, to school your nickels and your dimes
Because an MC like me be on TV
Don’t mean I can’t hold my shit down in NYC”%

Peace out, Phife.

Soundtracks for this Post are- *- “Buggin’ Out”  +- “Excursions,” #-“Oh My God,” @- “Check The Rhime” and %-“Phony Rappers” by Ali Shaheed Jones-Muhammad, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, & Malik Izaak Taylor, immortalized on record by A Tribe Called Quest.

Phife, on point, from 1;49-

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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Richard Estes’ Dayhawks At The “Corner Cafe” (Revised)

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

Update- 5/14/2022- In an interview with the Artist in the just-released book Richard Estes: Voyages, Mr. Estes says that he is now destroying his reference Photos because he does not want people to compare them with the finished Painting. As a result, and to respect his wishes, I have revised this piece to remove the Mr. Estes’s reference Photos I originally showed. It must be said that he included them in his Richard Estes: Painting New York City Museum of Art & Design show in 2015 . I cannot unsee what I saw in the show, but I have decided to remove them so that others won’t be influenced by them. The text of this piece remains unchanged. It is, simply, what I see. As always, I encourage everyone to look for themselves and let the Art speak to them. 

Appearing at the very end of the excellent Richard Estes: Painting New York City show at the Museum of Art & Design, which I looked at in my look at NYC Art Shows in 2015, the first-ever Estes show in an NYC  Museum, was a work depicting one of those all too common places to be found all over New York, and indeed much of the world, making it easy to overlook, to look through, or to see-but-not-really-see. Mr. Estes titled it Corner Cafe. It’s dated “2014-15.” Given that the Artist was born on May 14, 1932, that means that he was 82 or 83 years old depending on when he actually finished it. Situated as the show’s conclusion, Corner Cafe could be a make or break work for the entire show.

How VERY Daring.

Richard Estes, Corner Cafe, 2014-15. Oil on Canvas. I only hope I can still get out of bed when I’m 83.

To end a show that covers over 40 years of work with a piece created at 83 is certainly making a statement. Especially a show that is, among other things, a showcase of his amazing craft & technique and how it has evolved over time. In fact, his craft is such that this was the first ever solo show by a Painter at the Museum of Art & Design, who specialize in “craft.” A very close look reveals he has signed and dated it right under the very small Statue of Liberty near the lower right corner. An appropriate conclusion for a show entitled “Painting New York City.”

To my eyes, it’s every bit as good as anything he’s ever done- In this show or not. Technically, it’s flawless. Mr. Estes remains at the peak of his considerable powers in his 80’s. Remarkable! Compositionally it’s subtly fascinating,

In spite of the fact that the show was a first chance for me to see paintings by Mr. Estes that I’ve loved for 30 years and never seen in person before, since I first saw Corner Cafe at the show’s opening in March, 2015, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.

Here’s what the “Real” Corner Cafe looked like in December, 2015. Mr. Estes hasn’t eaten here1, so why did he choose to paint it?

I’ve actually made a number of trips to the corner of West 94th Street and Broadway to ponder the “real” Cafe in situ, both to experience it for myself (I did not go in), to see if it screams out “PAINT ME!” and to see what, exactly Mr. Estes has altered, even though no less than 3 of his Reference Photographs hung very close by in the show. These Photos should serve once and for all to clear up many of the myths and fallacies about Mr. Estes work. Like-

He does not project Photographs onto his canvas and then Draw or Paint them2.

He does not paint his reference Photographs verbatim (as the evidence in the show proves).

He does not, apparently, even rely on a single Photograph when he feels it doesn’t contain all he wants.

This brings up my biggest pet peeve about the perception of Richard Estes work. That he is ENDLESSLY called a “photorealist” or “hyperrealist.” “Photorealism” is a term popularized by an Art dealer as a means of selling the work of a group of his artists, and then perpetuated in a series of now 4 books, each including Estes work. I’ve never heard what Mr. Estes, himself, feels about this term. As I’ve said, I believe that labelling artists by a one word term that is supposed to enable viewers or readers to pigeonhole them and their work for easy consumption is something that must end. Artists are unique beings. If their work looks like that of someone else (like Picasso’s Cubism did Braque’s Cubism), it’s by their choice, but it’s not necessarily indicative of the sum of their Artistic being. In Picasso’s case he went on to another style as soon as his last one was “named.” In the end? He is simply, “Picasso.” Artists, like Chuck Close, also included in the book series, have made no secret of not wanting to be considered a “photorealist.”

“The reason I never liked the word “realist” or “new realist” or “photorealist” was I was always as interested in the artificial as I was the real.  I’m as interested in the distribution of color on a flat surface as I am in the image it ends up making.  So it’s that tension as it works back and forth between marks on a flat surface and the image that it’s making that has always interested me.” Chuck Close

And, for the most part, he haven’t been since. This wanting to put Artists in a box is something that only serves to provide a “crutch” that may serve to make viewers feel they already “know” what a given Artist does and so they don’t need to actually look at their work for themselves. I feel it’s better to forget what anyone (besides the Artist) calls it, and just look at the work.

As I began to do that with Corner Cafe, I was quickly faced with two overriding questions-

Why This Scene?

What is this “about?”

First, I will say that what follows is entirely my opinion based on the feelings I get looking at it. That’s all. While the endless details Mr. Estes has so incredibly faithfully recorded are delicious to enjoy on their own- the reflections in the metal framing, the sample meals in the window, the latticework of the furniture, the surrounding buildings, the inside of the cafe and on and on. As wonderful as it is to enjoy these details (as it is in almost any of his work), as time has gone on, I’ve found myself considering it as a whole. Visiting the actual site a few times, something most viewers may not be able to do, one thing strikes me- Mr. Estes has chosen to leave out what is, perhaps, the most noticeable thing about the real Corner Cafe- its sign. Why? Many (most?) other Artists Painting this site would no doubt include it. But, whatever his reason is, it puts the focus of his Painting elsewhere. I think he did it because he didn’t want viewers to be distracted by it.

Over and over again, in thinking about the feeling I get from Corner Cafe, I was inescapably drawn back to something very familiar. And familiar to anyone reading this site. Look up above. That’s right. I’m reminded of Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks.

There are two people visible through the large front window (and parts of others inside on the left), and a woman in a red jacket disappearing stage left around the corner onto 94th Street. There’s a woman who appears to be a customer, a counter man, an employee of the cafe, and between them sits a white bag, its handles pointing up. Interestingly, these two appear quite a bit brighter in the Painting than in the Reference Photo, especially the female customer, who has gone from being completely in the shadows to being completely sunlit. They’re not looking at each other, though their mouths may both be open. Perhaps they’re speaking to each other. The woman is looking slightly to her right, whereas in the Photo she looks almost straight ahead. The woman in red walking down 94th Street appears in a different reference photo than the one with two people inside.

The real thing in December, 2015.

Mr. Estes has said that he consciously chose to omit people early on in his career to avoid the narrative element that comes with them. That is, no doubt, why most of his work feature people who are,  at best, “incidental.” Sometimes, however, my attention has been drawn to these “bystanders,” and I find it hard to believe that that is not intentional. The customer in line in Lunch Specials who gives us a look over his shoulder, for example, as if seeing what is going on when most others (ourselves?) do not. And, there are the guys on the payphone outside. A metaphor for talking to people who are not there, while those who are there stand in line not talking to each other? He’s right. It’s hard not to read into them when people are present.

What we’re seeing here is one of the countless, brief encounters we all have every day, encounters that are the hallmark of the modern world. A world that is clad is shiny surfaces, with neon signs and images and examples of what is to be found inside. (Things that have changed since the 1942 world of Nighthawks, which is almost distraction free, somewhere, possibly imaginary, possibly real, in the Flatiron or the West Village neighborhoods. My search for the real Nighthawks cafe is here.) Tables and chairs fill the right foreground, in case you want to bring what’s inside out, but no one has. Yes, it’s winter, given the snow seen on the left, but it’s a sunny day.

Like the woman in red disappearing3, these two will, most likely, probably end their encounter very soon, and move on with the rest of their days.

Am I making too much out of the “similarities” with Nighthawks? Maybe, maybe not. I’m responding to what I see. To quote Frank Stella in his recent Whitney Museum Retrospective, “What you see is what you see.”

Detail of the Painting.

I’m not saying that Mr. Estes was thinking of  Nighthawks when he painted Corner Cafe. I’m saying that I was reminded of it as I’ve looked at it. There is the same isolation. The same counter person-customer interaction. The same other random (single) person included. And both feature cafes that are located on a corner. For Mr. Estes, this scene may be reminiscent of everyday scenes of Venice rendered by Canaletto.

Interestingly, one detail Mr. Estes has omitted might seem to reinforce that Nighthawks connection- on top of the awning is a sort of logo that has the words “corner” and “cafe” at right angles to each other (which does appear, smaller, on the divider in front between the Brooklyn Bidge and NYC Skyline. My guess is the one over the awning was too large to not be “read,” or it would appear as a meaningless distorted mess given the angle of the scene), not all that much different from the somewhat sharper angles of Nighthawks cafe. Unlike the Hopper, the door is obvious and central. Are we being invited inside? It’s hard to say. There’s a tall, evergreen like plant (since replaced) “guarding” the front door, with an ATM machine looming right inside. It almost looks like the way into a different business. But, we known better. The overhead awning tells us it’s all the same place.

Inside, given too much choice, perhaps the customer is having trouble deciding on something else. Her eyes (which in the Reference Photo that she appears in- the only one of the 3- I almost thought she was wearing sunglasses), appear to be looking down at the items on the counter.

Mr. Estes has omitted the large “Corner Cafe” sign, with its preceding coffee cup, above the awning, which serves to focus our attention on the windows. We can barely see the bottom of the cup over the “2518” sign. Puzzlingly, he has added what appears to be a drop shadow for this sign above the rest of the awning, much larger than I saw it in real life.

Scrunched into the phone booth seen further below to take it all in on August 21, 2015. With the umbrellas open, it’s not nearly as interesting.

Almost everything else is there! The level of detail makes my head spin. You can get easily lost in it. When people talk about “pure Painting,” THIS is what I think they mean. Yet, every single detail has meaning and purpose here. They are all the means to an end.

The chairs are different now. They have square backs and don’t have that marvelous lattice work he masterfully shows. The signs in front of them are different, too. Gone are the NYC sights, two of which, the Brooklyn Bridge and the Lower Manhattan skyline, happen to be subjects of large, earlier Estes.

It just screams “Paint Me,” right? It took a bit of work to find a place to stand to even shoot it, Here, I’m standing in the middle of Broadway! August 21, 2015.

Also interesting, the apparent spot where Mr. Estes likely stood to capture this view of the cafe is a bit hard to get to. Now, there are 3 large circular recycling cans on the spot. I had to stand on the curb to shoot it. There is also a large telephone booth (remember them?) immediately to the right. So, even getting the photos he wanted may not have been exactly easy. The outdoor seating is closer to the front wall and neatly squared thanks to an additional divider on the left, and he’s cropped the lower part of the image to the very base of the outdoor divider.

The sun is high enough in the sky to the south to pass through all the intervening buildings along Broadway. There is only the woman exiting to be seen, along with the two large evergreen plants as outdoor signs of life.

Perhaps that is the point.

Unless you are “stuck” there, like the employee or the two potted plants, everyone is destined to come and go, like those who presumably once sat outdoors have already done, the woman in red is doing, and the female customer appears about to do.

Life, itself, is an endless series of comings and goings, too, with encounters of varying lengths in between.

Until it ends.

“Stop the rush and relax,” reads the sign below.

*-Soundtrack for this post is “Hello/Goodbye” by The Beatles and written by Lennon & McCartney, from their album “Magical Mystery Tour.”

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. As was stated on the description card for the painting. ↩
  2. As I heard him say in the interview he gave at the MAD opening. ↩
  3. She may be there to distract the eye with her blonde hair and red coat, or to emphasize the “corner” element of the title, or as a means of visually breaking up the reflection to her right with the street scene to the left ↩

Watching The Watchers With Laura Poitras

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Laura Poitras is, perhaps, best known for her Documentary CitizenFour, a behind-the-scenes chronicle of Edward Snowden’s unprecedented classified documents release and it’s after effects. It’s the culminating work of her 9/11 Trilogy. For Ms Poitras, and many others, Film is an Art Form1. I would agree that as a means of creativity and expression, Film as an art form is undeniable. In the bigger picture, Film, being 100-odd years old (depending on when you say it began), is still a relatively young Art Form to be considered “High Art.”

Does it belong in Museums yet, or is that premature?

Face to face with unspeakable horror. A screenshot of Poitras’ video O Say Can You See in her new show, Astro Noise, at the Whitney Museum.

While Film’s place in the front ranks of our popular culture seems assured to us now, it’s unknown what future generations will think, as is if it will speak to them. Of course, they could also reject Painting, Sculpture or whatever Artform that we accept now, but given a few thousand years of history to the contrary it at least feels there’s a better chance those will endure. Then, exactly what Film’s lasting works are, if any, also remains to be seen. If history tells us anything about Art it’s that what appears to be “Great” to the people of any given time often gets resigned to the dust bin by those that follow. No doubt that will happen to most of what’s been created in our lifetimes, but some of it may remain that speaks to those who come after us, even much after us. Consider that documentaries (one of my personal favorite genres of Film) are an even newer form, one that is continually evolving in both form and possibilities, and it may be somewhat surprising that Laura Poitras, one of the most respected Filmmakers and Documentarians working today, now her first solo Museum show, Astro Noise, at The Whitney.

Obviously, The Whitney Museum, like many other Museums & galleries around the world isn’t waiting for the future to judge what is or is not Art. In this case, I applaud their choice, and given the controversial nature of much of the show’s content, their guts. That, actually, shouldn’t be surprising. As Whitney Museum Director, Adam D. Weinberg says in the Foreword to the fascinating book of the same name accompanying the show, (which features a striking contribution from no less than Ai Weiwei), “(Whitney Museum founder) Mrs. Whitney’s early commitment to radical realist artists and her profund belief in the democracy of American art positioned her as a champion of free expression and the Whitney as a site for potential controversy2.”

“Is this “art?” I’d say Yes- As much in the presentation as in the work3. I’m not big on most of what I’ve seen done in video in galleries or Museums (William Kentridge being one exception off the top of my head). The pieces on view are beautifully conceived (individually and as a group), charged with meaning (for her, you and me, yet globally as well) and presented in a very artful way that regardless of what side of any political fence you may be on will give you pause to think. They force you to see the world around you, very far from you, and indeed, even hidden from you while showing how the world has changed since that fateful day almost exactly 14 and a half years ago. In “Astro Noise” it’s all plainly on view.

Disposition Matrix, 2016. “Don’t attempt to control the horizontal…the vertical…”

The first room features a double sided video screen, a fact not obvious until you walk to the other side of it, both sides showing her 2 channel video O Say Can You See, 2001/16, pictured above. At first you’re faced (literally) with watching people’s expressions as they view Ground Zero in the days after 9/11. For most Americans, these are the first days of a new world, and these people are both witness to what is before their eyes and the implications of it their mind’s eye also sees. In spite of the fact that 9/11 was one of the most photographed & filmed tragedies in history, this is something not many who aren’t named Laura Poitras took the time to look at. It’s the “right in front of us” element of this show. As someone who lived here that day, it’s something “familiar” yet seen in a new way, which is always something I value in Art, (and reminds me of the Man Ray quote I Posted recently.) As we may not know from her documentaries, which deal largely with “others,” this powerfully shows that Laura Poitras is also gifted at documenting what’s in front of us and largely missed.

From here, all becomes “movie theater dark” as we encounter the unseen and the hidden.

Walk around to the other side of the video screen and the ramifications begin to become all too real. We watch two prisoners being interrogated in Afghanistan shortly after. Two types of reaction to 9/11. From there, the show’s dark & winding trail continues with video of drones in various night skies around the world intermingling with the peace, beauty and serenity of the stars, which you watch lying flat on your back. Then there are banks of “peep show” like slots containing documents and videos from various government surveillance agencies around the world (See “Disposition Matix,” above and “Anarchist,” below), including ours, which, unlike in the first rooms, can really only be seen by one person at a time, making it personal. Finally “Astro Noise” leaves us with a graphic proof that we are all now being watched- even while we’re looking at this show.

While I was pondering the “Art” of this, I realized that her trials and travails that are a part of the genesis of this show, and of her work, reveal something I admire about Laura Poitras very much-

Her integrity is not for sale.

As such, she strikes me as something of a “throwback.” She’s a throwback to Artists, Musicians & Writers of yore- men and women who created because they had to. It’s as if their very lives depended on it, their raison de’tre.  If the public responded to their work and paid for it, the better to create more of it, but regardless, they were on a mission. They lived, breathed and died their art.

Laura Poitras is using art to show us “ourselves”- our collective selves. Me, you, the people in power- elected or not, and enabling us to “see” them and decide for ourselves how we feel about it all. That’s pretty much all any Artist can do. Say what you want about Ms. Poitras politically charged show, she’s on a mission.

“World peace is none of your business

You must not tamper with arrangements

Work hard and sweetly pay your taxes

Never asking what for”*

Anarchist, 2016. Somebody in the U.K.’s tax money hard at work. “What for?”

“Astro Noise” creates the undeniable feeling that somehow along the way Post 9/11, in addition to all the horror that’s gone on here and around the world be it by terrorists or by trying to stop them, as the “cost” of it all continues to become apparent, as the unseen becomes visible, we’re seeing we’ve all lost even more than we realized or consented to. We’ve lost our right to privacy.

While Edward Snowden “tipped” Ms. Poitras to the NSA’s role in that sending her a file titled “Astro Noise,” this week, I saw a headline that read “You’re On File In China.” Yes, that’s another part of the story, though every bit as concerning.

A surveillance camera surveils a sign warning it’s presence. How quaint. There’s too many cameras to hang signs anymore.

Closer to home, it’s enough to make me how much of our freedom we’ve lost, too ?

“World peace is none of your business

So would you kindly keep your nose out”*

Consider this- In a country where the law says a suspect is “innocent until proven guilty,” all of a sudden, we’ve ALL being treated like suspects.

Why?

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “World Peace Is None Of Your Business”s by Morrissey & Boz Boorer from his 2014 album of the same name. Published by Warner Chappell Music and 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.

  1. “I think of filmmaking as art...” ↩
  2. Astro Noise by Laura Poitras, Published by the Whitney Museum, P.20 ↩
  3. Whether this will be “Art” and continue to speak to people generations from now or not is anyone’s guess. ↩

Morrissey’s “List of the Lost”

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

“Um, Nighthawk? Planet Earth, calling. You said you were reading this way back on October 23, 2015. Exactly 4 months have passed. Leaves and snow have fallen. ’15 became ’16. The Grammys finished making their own, annual, “List of the Lost.” So…

How the heck is it?”

I thought you’d never ask. ; )

 

It’s a powerful, thought provoking, sad comment on human nature and parts of American society’s basest motivations that interestingly takes place in this country at a time when its author was yet to live here 1. It’s a work that will linger in the mind for both its messages and its craft. Along the way, many of the author’s long held core beliefs find their way into the narrative, along with a range of others. As an admitted Morrissey “fan” it’s not appropriate for me to “review” List, because of course, I’m going to say “It’s great! Read it!,” but it’s not that simple. Unlike Autobiography, which I think is 1/2 of a classic and I hope for an update one day, List is a novel, a dark one, that takes place in a land where the sun never shines and where the untoward lurks around every corner, every moment. In the place of “review,” then, some observations. For those planning on reading it (as I write this it still hasn’t been published in the USA, but very reasonably priced copies are available online. Mine was less than 10. including shipping.) don’t worry, I will not “spoil the plot,” or give too much away. (As always, I have read nothing anyone has written about it, save for Morrissey’s quote on the back cover, )

I have been aware of Morrissey, listening to his music, going to see him and The Smiths (in 1986), and following his career since “The Smiths” (their debut Lp) came out in 1984. Some of my Posts here use his songs as their soundtracks. Almost 32 years on it’s IMPOSSIBLE for me to read something like this and not find my mind constantly being pulled in a hundred directions with every line, like following a decades long trail of bread crumbs. This is one reason I prefer movies with actors I don’t know (as when I first saw “2001”). Not knowing anything “about” them helps me believe their character more – there is none of their personal gossip and real life lore to get in the way. Reading List, it’s too hard for me to not bring any other point of reference to bear And? There are many- take 2013’s Autobiography. In it we learned (sorry for the spoiler, but you’ve had two years to read it) that young Morrissey was a runner, and one who did well at it. By chance, the 4 heroes of List are runners, a half mile relay team. Along with one of their girlfriends and the team’s coach they are most of the major players. In 1975 when the story takes place, they are 20, Morrissey was 16. So, is it fair to wonder why early on the author can go into such detail about the experience of running? The purpose of the runner? His feelings during training or of winning or losing? The depth with which he writes about their activity is knowing and considered. It’s obvious (or it sure feels that way) that he’s lived it. Been there and done that. So, Morrissey was a runner and has now written a novel about runners. A novel about 4 runners, a relay team, is very unusual if not unique.

And it’s in “coincidences” like this where my “troubles” began.

Morrissey’s Autobiography clocks in at 480 pages in paperback. HIs first novel, List of the Lost, totals a mere 118 pages. List took me longer to read. I started reading it 3 times. The first to get an idea of it, like I’ll take a quick walkthrough of a major Art show I’m seeing for the first time, to get a feel for how to approach it. The restart was “Ok, let’s just read it.” Once I realized how very much Morrissey has packed into the very economical 118 pages, I realized it was too hard for me to read it in a vacuum (which won’t be a problem for most readers). I started athird, taking notes and making an outline. 28 pages of notes later, I finished reading List last night.

Readers Meet Author…”With The Hope Of Hearing Sense.”* Count Basie Theater, NJ Jan 15, 2013

As someone who grew up in America, 3,500 odd miles from where M grew up, though not all that many years apart, I find his observations on American family life fascinating. He does say in Autobiography that he visited the USA with his family as a kid. I grew up in one of those repressed households he describes early on, and seeing it through his eyes was a revelation- for me, about my own life-

“Sex was always there…yet… difficult to obtain…because of the atomic supremacy in the family values of their upbringings which, of course, circumscribed the sons’ freedom to fly, since a certain sexlessness kept the grown child tied to the family, even if the impossibly constricted demands could very easily lead to a form of sexual cremation for the young child. The parental mind would allow the child time to develop political views, but there would certainly be no question of allowing the child time to choose its preferred religion, and even more importantly, the grand assumption that all children are extensively heterosexually resolved at birth whipped a demented torment across the many who were not. Whether physical maneuvers were difficlut or easy (and it is usually one or the other, and for eternity), our foursome found in each other a generosity of spirit and determination that all other circumstances seemed blind to. Each would make up for the other’s loss- so firmly they took their friendship into their own hands, and around it went.” List of the Lost, Pages 11-12.

As you can see, he immediately folds this observation seamlessly into setting the stage for the characters in his book. Following this “crumb”, I began to notice snippets of more opinions and observations, at first gradually, then more at length, that are nothing less than commentary on society and a range of many other topics. They are generally well placed as context, but they did tend to “jar” me out of the story to ponder a bigger picture. As I read the book, I was fascinated by what the writer chooses to include, and leave out (see ^ below). This is largely accomplished through the voice I call the Narrator (N). Exactly who he is is never revealed. Yet, his views are remarkably similar to the author’s. (“Narrator Meet Author”?) He is the “other” major character in List.

The N provided a steady stream of interest for me, delaying my completion date at every page turn, and he pontificates for pages at a time in a 118 page book. Animal nature, animal rights and lack thereof, human nature, the differences between animals and humans, sex, hookups, middle aged men, old men, old women, Churchill, Princess-later-Queen Elizabeth, royals in general, nuclear engineers, the police, war and war dead, the asexuality of friendships, who really won WW2, sports as “news,” justice & the courts, meat overeating Americans and their children (a laundry “list” of M’s hot button issues if there ever was one), are some of the topics our N addresses at length, while key moments of plot happen in a flash. Other topics, yes including homosexuality are occasionally discussed at length by the characters, but mostly it’s left to the N.

For me, it’s tempting to take List apart and make it into two books- one of the Narrator, the other the story proper. There would be minimal overlap from the former to the latter, but the former may well stand as treatise by itself. The N goes deeper than I’ve heard Morrissey go on many of these topics before, even in Autobiography, where most of these are not touched on.

(^)Interestingly and completely absent among that list there is no music. No talk of it. No mention of anything going on in music at the time. This is very surprising. Autobiography is full of this talk. Would it have been all that unique if the 4 had been members of a band, instead of runners? Then everyone would have read it as The Smiths. Disaster. Besides, he’s addressed all that in Autobiography. Without music, we are, almost, in an alternate, USA-based, young Morrissey universe. The universe of Moz the runner and not young Moz the Bowie/Ramones/NY Dolls acolyte of a few years later.

His role seemingly all-seeing, the narrator also steps in to address and reveal the inner mind of the characters. Some of the best writing in the book comes at these times, in my opinion. At once- the micro and macro view of the world, and their worlds, big and small. It’s as if everything that happens in our lives, or life, takes place in the same cosmic “mind”, only in different parts of it.

Unlike parts of Autobiography, this time, things as a whole feel sharply focused. He has compacted the story to its most essential moments, leaving the rest of the room for the N. In that way, it’s cannily done. In two outings we have a fascinating autobiography that might be a bit too expansive in parts and a amazingly compact novel that doesn’t “waste” one moment’s time. Its story, in spite of its twists and turns, could be outlined quickly- mine is less than a page, but therein lay lifetimes of choices, instincts, ramifications and intentions as seen from the eyes of youth and the aged. Each, a product of environment, experience and family like those on Page 11, has their point of view, their reasons, their dreams. Yet, in the end, each are destined to the same fates- over which they may have “limited” control.

By setting the piece in 1975 he allows some distance on the events- both figurative and literally, though of course, in the end, that doesn’t matter- all of the tale’s key points hold every bit as much today. A morality play set in 1975 that serves as a tale of warning for today, like a gift from a caring “Hey, watch out for this.” friend, lest we too wind up on the List of the Lost. The “problem” is that while many things are in our control, as we see here things also happen in life that no amount of watchfulness is going to stop.

What does his song say? “Books don’t save them, books aren’t Stanley Knives.”*

List of the Lost is published by Penguin Books.

Soundtrack for this post is “Lucky Lisp,” by the author of List of the Lost and Stephen Street from Morrissey’s Bona Drag album.  It came on one day recently and crystalized for me why it took me so long to finish this book. As in “Yes, I know it’s taking me a long time to finish. Then again, I still haven’t gotten what “Lucky Lisp” is about!” It seems these folks haven’t, either.

*-From “Reader Meet Author” By Morrissey and Boz Boorer from Southpaw Grammar published by Warner Chappell Music Publishing.

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  1. His first visit was apparently in 1976, per page 125 of the eBook Autobiography. He mentions “three more trips to America before 1980…and I cry my way back to intolerant Manchester,” where he works as a basement filing clerk “to get the money to return to America.” Pages 127-28. He’s famously lived in Cali, next door to Nancy Sinatra for years now ↩