The air is pure and clear; the sky a cloudless powder blue. It reminds me of the sequence in Walt Disney's "Fantasia" set to Beethoven's "Pastoral Symphony". It's truly paradisiacal (if that's actually a term). My son's bookcase is filled with books on art and architecture plus an entire shelf of writings by Italo Calvino, our favorite author. What more could I want? Well, I do miss my East Coast friends and occasional bad weather. There's a limit to how much perfection one can take.
My grandson and my daughter-in-law came back from their long stay in Patagonia. My daughter-in-law is a clay artist. She will make plates and I will etch drawings onto them. We will take them to market and see what happens. I'll be 94 in a few months and need a last act.. a finale for a long and interesting life.reneekahntheartist
Saturday, June 15, 2024
Friday, May 17, 2024
Post # 198: Face Time
"Looking out to the Sea" - Composition Renee & Ned Kahn |
Friday, May 10, 2024
> Post #197: Living in Paradise
Friday, April 26, 2024
Post #196: Conjuring Up Meyer Lansky
Most of my readers have never heard of him. You need to have grown up in NYC during the 20s and 30s to know the name. He was the Money Man for the mob, on a par with Lucky Luciano. He made them all rich and respectable. My cousin Rose was married to one of his cronies, Willie L., who went from being a bootlegger to a respectable multi millionaire liquor wholesaler with a penthouse overlooking Central Park.
Sic transit gloria mundi.Anyhow, as many of you know, I work from my sub-conscious, rarely pre-planning work. A few weeks ago, I started a new panel, about 30”x 54” and who should show up but Meyer Lansky, banker for the mob. The one who made them all wealthy. How do I know it’s Lansky? I “googled” him. What else? Frankly, he’s a monster, a golem, and I don’t want him around. A friend offered to take him home with her with the caveat that she can put the canvas in the dumpster if he causes trouble.
By the way, I looked Lansky up on line and saw that an ex girlfriend wrote a book about her long love affair with him, claiming he was sweet and kind (and very, very rich.) and he looks just like the guy in my painting!
Friday, October 13, 2023
Post #195: A Watched Pot Never Boils
Many years ago, I rented space at the former Yale & Towne Lock Factory for the Historic Neighborhood Preservation Program, Inc., a nonprofit I ran for almost forty years. Since I was actually an artist in real life, I soon made friends with the dozens of painters, sculptors, dancers and photographers who rented the generous, high-ceilinged lofts, often (illegally) making them their home. One such friend (still is) was a photographer, Bob Baldridge who rented prime space overlooking Long Island Sound. He fitted up a bathroom and a tiny kitchen that served his needs. Along the way, he even acquired a girlfriend, the wealthy but insecure granddaughter of a famous artist. She had tried out several careers and was at that time exploring whether she wanted to be a celebrity chef. She convinced Bob to allow her to use his space for a dinner party that would allow her to try out her new career. Bob borrowed chairs and tables and a giant cook pot. I agreed to co-sponsor. A date was set. Invitations went out. Money for cheap wine was obtained and a supply of paper cups and plates. What could go wrong? Who couldn’t boil spaghetti and heat up sauce?
By 6 pm Bob’s girlfriend had put up gallons of water and a pot of store bought sauce on his makeshift stove. A small crowd had begun to gather in the long hallway outside his door. Bob decided not to let anyone in until the food was ready, but he was happy to pour endless paper cups o wine to keep the party happy. Unfortunately, we had never inquired as to how many people were coming. The word of the event had apparently spread far and wide and before long, a line extended for a hundred or more feet down the hall. Bob kept handing out endless paper cups of wine while the chef struggled to get the spaghetti water to boil.It took almost five hours for dinner to be served. The line outside Bob’s door had by now reached into the adjacent building. Raucous, drunken laughter echoed through the old factory walls. Bob opened bottle after bottle of wine while his chef struggled with her makeshift stove.
You’ve all heard the adage “A watched pot never boils”? Well it’s true. At least not til after midnight when everyone’s too drunk to care.
Saturday, August 5, 2023
Post #194: The Artist’s Wife
Many years ago, one of my closest friends, a beautiful Viennese refugee, became a highly desirable “artist’s wife”. She proudly accepted the role, even reveled in it. Her days were filled with service to the Great One, an arrogant but talented SOB. She ran his errands, dealt with his gallery and entertained wealthy and important clients. He repayed her by seducing, or attempting to seduce all her friends, as well as every other woman who crossed his path. Needless to say, it did not end well, and his
career tanked along with his marriage.
PS. This is a Sad but True Story!
Friday, June 30, 2023
Post #193: Little Ralphie
Little Ralphie (and Thelma’s) father was a down and out, Depression poor house painter. Like everyone else I knew, he was struggling to keep the family afloat. In later years, when interviewed, Little Ralphie, now the world-renown Ralph Lauren, would refer to him as an artist, and, since he spent his days painting apartments, that description could be considered at least partially true. One afternoon, my mother and I encountered him outside a hardware store on Jerome Avenue in the Bronx. We were in search of something to polish our new (second hand) baby grand piano. Of course, Mr. L. was the perfect person to ask. “Quid Oil” was his response and so we went off in search of Quid Oil. “Quid Oil? Never heard of it.” No one knew what we were talking about. After a few unsuccessful attempts, it finally dawned on us that what he was suggesting (in his heavy Yiddish accent) was Crude Oil. Kvid Oil was what we heard. Many years later, I heard the rich and famous Ralph Lauren interviewed about his background and he referred to his father as an “artist,” a “painter,” which I guess was true (as far as it went.)
I don’t remember if we ever found Quid (Kvid) Oil, or just;
ended up using Johnson’s Wax.