Fieldtrip to Haring

When I haven't been working this week, I've been entertaining the kid who is not in camp and who hasn't any friends in town right now, and no plans.

Today I took her, not to Chico's Kiss mural, but to the Brooklyn Museum to see the work of another New York/East Village-based street artist, Keith Haring.  The Brooklyn Museum is hosting a show of work he made between 1978 and 1982, from when he was 20 to 24, just a wee lad, but already genius.  I was in high school during these years. 

Keith Haring died of AIDS in 1990 at the age of 31.  I remember the moment I found out.  I was in a divey restaurant near the University of Utah where I was attending graduate school.  An undergraduate poet broke the news, and I burst into tears.

So I've been mourning the loss of Haring for 22 years. 

Today, I wondered how Haring's life and/or career would have been different if he'd grown up--not in Pennsylvania and close to NYC--but where I did:  within a low-desert located bubble in Arizona.  Would he have gone to the NYC's School of Visual Arts after high school?  Would that have seemed within reach for him?  Would it have seemed as far away in every sense as it did for me?  Just as imaginary?  Or would Haring have found his language and vision if he'd been in Tempe in the art department at Arizona State?  Would he have made graffiti art up and down Mill Avenue--an alternate, parallel version of his subway chalk art?  What about if he'd been in Provo, attended BYU like I did?

Anyway, just some things I was thinking about as we made out way through the exhibit.  It was fantastic, heartening and inspiring.  Haring's work was the opposite of tightness, it was about freedom, love, imagination, exuberance and joy, and I felt happy to be experiencing that with my unscheduled kid. 

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Howl Report

The inimitable Darryl L.

Another perfect weather day, so perfect, in fact, that I it was hard for me to consent to my kid's constant entreaties to take her shopping for her 5th-grade graduation dress first thing this morning, especially when the Howl Fest was kicking off.  

But we went, made the trip to mid-town retail.  In Lord and Taylor, my kid agonized over three dresses in particular, trying each on several times before deciding, knowing she would mourn the dresses not taken.  Tonight she's been dancing around with her dress so I guess it was worth it.

Because of this she was obligated to go to Howl with me.  Photos here are from the Art Around the Park portion.  Artists register in advance for a canvas.   Adjacent canvases are set up the night before.  They extend partially around the park, but the whole block of Avenue A between 7th and 10th Streets. The spray painters are relegated to 7th Street between A and B.  (Not that this means anything to anyone who is reading this outside of New York.)

My friend Darryl (who I met because she was first a babysitter then a parent at my kids' elementary school) was one of the spray-painting artists who assembled a collage plus stencils of her 20-something youth on the lower east side.  I'm most interested in the fact she dated the experimental filmmaker Nick Zedd:  she blew up a photo booth strip of them together on the left there.

And two of my other faves were back this year:  the famous graffiti artist Chico (who this year spray painted murals up on the 3rd floor of my kid's school), and this cut and paste op artist whose name I think is Rolando Vega, but now I'm not sure.

Oh, and I also happened upon The Waldos this afternoon, playing as part of the fest in the park.

Inspired by:  the rhubarb/mocha cone I had at Il Laboratorio del Gelato this evening (Lara, they offered basil, tarragon, cream cheese, acai, gala apple and buttermilk gelatos--among others--this evening), the life of Adam Yauch (who has the cover in this week's Rolling Stone)

Looking forward to:  the Book Expo this week

The mesmerizing Rolando

The amazing Chico