Arrhe est à art que merdre est à merde

by Sarah Hempel Irani

Returning to Maryland from attending the National Sculpture Society's Young Sculptors Competition at the Lyme Academy in Connecticut, another sculptor and I stopped in New York City. It was my first visit to New York. We attended an artists' salon hosted by a well-known sculptor. She hosts salons every Sunday afternoon at her flat. The idea is to bring slides or actual work to show to the group and hold a discussion. Things can get ugly.

When we arrived a small group was discussing self portraits. One consisted of bottles lined up on the street filled with the artist's, if I may call him that, own urine. We listened to an Italian Drew Carey look-alike express how moved he was. Then a young fellow showed photos of his murals painted illegally on buildings in Mexico City. Louise seemed more concerned with his unbuttoned shirt sleeves than his artwork. "Why don't you get your wife to fix your sleeves?" A French girl painted portraits of people on the Paris subway. She did not speak English and apparently everyone there, but me, spoke French. A Frenchman recited poetry in an enchanting, rhythmic voice.

Meanwhile, since this was an impromptu visit, neither of us had brought images of our work. So I sculpted a bas-relief portrait of our hostess, and the artist who had accompanied me created a small wax bust.

All of this was being captured on film by a German videotographer developing a documentary film on the life of Our Famous Host.

Near the end of the session, Famous Host pointed at me, "What are you doing over there?" She bid me set the small bas-relief and the wax bust on her desk. Then she proceeded to chop them both up with a butter knife, mixing clay and wax! She insisted that I finish destroying the work with my own hands.

The videotographer taped with enthusiasm. My humiliation was immortalized.

I politely thanked Our Famous Host and the others for having us and excused myself. As we left, she whispered, "Your work? It is shit!"

So much for the New York crowd.