…Egon Schiele at the Neue Gallery on 86th Street and Chinese Sculpture/Rauschenberg combines at the Met with waltzingtree and dennisatl (who is a great gentleman and beauty. In contrast to my recent experience at the Modern, It was wonderful to spend time with things and perticularly to remember that there was a time when Rauchenberg was a terrific artist: great colorist, puckish image scavenger, earthy and fun. Then things start to slide into tidyness and calculation, an impulse I attribute, rightly or wrongly, to Johns, who as I get older and older, I like less and less. But the first few rooms in the show made me quite happy. The most inspiring thing for me however was a tiny portrait Schiele molded out of bread of one of his fellow prisoners while he was in jail facing kidnapping charges.
Tomorrow’s the BD and like last year I’m going to ask for something from you readers of this journal:
If you have the impulse to get me something for my birthday, I’d like you to make something.
Don’t make me something, just create something for yourself: a collage, a drawing, a mailbox, a new hat. Make something by hand for you to have in your life. Let go of any judgements you have about your artitistc ability or being good enough, just spend some time making something.
That would mean the world to me.
(added: of course if you had an extra one of these lying around, I wouldn’t mind taking it off your hands)