2019 New York Studio School Alumni Invitational

2019 Alumni Invitational

JULY 22-AUGUST 25, 2019 Curators:

Robert Franca David Humphrey Judith Linhares Fran O’Neill Claire Sherman

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Photo on front cover and installation and reception shots: Erin Hinz Sculpture on front cover by Howard Kalish.

See p. 10 for full picture.

Back cover: Map design by Rachel Rickert

The New York Studio School Alumni Association Co Chairs: Larry Greenberg, Michael Tcheyan

Steering Comittee: Claudia Doring-Baez, Whit Conrad, Glenn Goldberg, Rachel Rickert (NYSS Alumni Coordinator), Elena Sisto

Advisory Committee: Michael Christenson, Florence Lynch, Tod Lippy, Ambassador Middendorf, Patrick Montgomery, Karen Wilkin

Chapter Heads: West Coast: Gina Werfel, Sarah Blaustein New Jersey/Pennsylvania: Catherine Copeland, Liliana Perez, Margery Theroux, Becky Yazdan DC/Virginia/North Carolina: Kevin Adams, Lisa Steffens Florida: Dana Blickensderfer Europe: Laura Jacobs, Francoise Cambilargiu, Ulgen Semerci Canada: Jackie Bagley, Poul Nielsen, Liora Salter Australia: Tony Mighell

History Committee: Amanda Church (Writer), Marjorie Kramer (Photo Archivist) ‘60s Subcommittee: Richard Bosman, Charlie Hewitt, Marjorie Kramer,* Chuck O’Connor,* David Reed, Madelon Umlauf,* Sandy Walker 1970 to 1987 Subcommittee: Don Kimes, Joyce Pensato**, Barbara Rose, Robert Storr, others TBA 1988 to Present Subcommittee: TBA

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*Founding year member **Deceased

2019 Alumni Invitational

JULY 22-AUGUST 25, 2019 Curators: Robert Franca, David Humphrey, Judith Linhares, Fran O’Neill, Claire Sherman

NEW YORK STUDIO SCHOOL OF DRAWING, PAINTING & SCULPTURE, 8 WEST 8TH ST, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10011

EDITOR’S NOTE In addition to thanking the many people (on the masthead and elsewhere) who have helped to make the Alumni Association what it is, I’ve pursued several goals with this catalog. Of course its primary purpose is to document and celebrate the 2019 Alumni Invitational. But beyond that it addresses an untold story that needs telling: the history of the New York Studio School, and its two great deans, Mercedes Matter and Graham Nickson.

The Archives (see p. 60), representing the beginning of the History Project, focus first on key individuals from the early years, with written materials by and about alumni of the school. As it develops it will show that of equal import has been Graham’s success in keeping the School’s values and ambitions alive— most importantly the view of an artist’s life as a “calling” rather than just another “career” in our increasingly business-driven culture. The Archives also include images from the 60s and 70s that provide some context on what was happening in the world that made this new school so compelling to a certain type of young person. Together these records hope to flesh out the story of a school whose core beliefs about what it takes to be an artist continues to have a remarkable influence on the lives of its alumni.

—Michael Tcheyan, October 2019

CONTENTS Mercedes Matter Awards

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Introduction by Paul D’Agostino

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Individual Curator’s Sections (including Q and A with Paul D’Agostino and Honorable Mentions) Robert Franca David Humphrey Judith Linhares Fran O’Neill Claire Sherman

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Archives [a work in progress] History of the Studio School and The “Manifesto” Recollections by Richard Bosman, Lois Baron, Ben Pritchard, David Reed and Madelon Umlauf

Press from the Founding Year Photo Essay: The School’s First Decade, 1964 to 1974

In Memorium: Joyce Pensato

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Mercedes Matter Awards Ambassador Middendorf Award Winners: Mallary Marks Tsailing Tseng David Fratkin Edmond Praybe Charity Baker artcritical Award Winner selected for interview feature on artcritical.com: Karlis Rekevics All Art Works Exhibit Winners, Selected for inclusion in All Art Works

by Curator Tyler Loftis, presented during ArtPrize:

Ophir Agassi Isabel Barber Maia Ibar Elisa Jensen Poppy Luca Edmond Praybe Matilda Shepherd Margaret Tsirantonakis Ivia Yavelow Becky Yazdan

Awards Committee (from left):

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Nicelle Beauchene, Christine Berry, Steven Kasher, Tod Lippy and Isaac Lyles

Introduction Sprawling and crawling, here in salon style and there not, now displaying one medium and now another, and consistently variant, formally speaking, in so many ways that if some of its constituent artworks might seem to whisper to you, then others will surely shout, the 2019 edition of the New York Studio School’s “Alumni Invitational” is a visual journey many viewers might well call epic.

Others, however, might just say it’s all over the place. It’s certainly that, too, and quite literally, given that its spread of works basically fills seven rooms.

And it features paintings and sculptures, drawings and prints, and works in collage and other mixed media by scores of artists who’ve attended the Studio School over the years.

Several proud alumni, in fact, are also among the five curators responsible for making selections from submitted artworks, and for designing and overseeing the show’s installation in their individually assigned rooms. They are Claire Sherman, Judith Linhares, David Humphrey, Fran O’Neill and Bob Franca, and I’m very fortunate to have spoken with each of them about the challenges, surprises and joys of serving their curatorial roles, and about the nature, characteristics and enduring significance of studying art at the New York Studio School.

I think you’ll find very interesting what they have to say about all such things and then some. I know I surely do.

On behalf of all of us, enjoy the catalog.

Thanks for looking and reading, —Paul D’Agostino 5

Robert Franca

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Paul D’Agostino: Did you feel it was more interesting or challenging to be, among the show’s five curators, the lone curator of sculpture? Were you aware all along in which room you’d be installing?

Robert Franca: It was both interesting and challenging to be the lone curator of sculpture. I approached it as a learning experience. I gained insight into what many of us do right and wrong when presenting ourselves.The installation room was secured as a late addition due to the volume of submissions this year, so midway through the process l was able to consider larger work.

But I always envisioned Howard Kalish’s battling “Punch and Judy 2” for the school lobby, symmetrically flanked by the opposing staircases.

PD: You’ve mentioned that certain works and layouts entered and exited your thoughts for that relatively large, airy, open space, only to then factor back into your plans later on. How so? Anything in particular?

RF: The paintings you see as you leave the sculpture room were added by Judith and Claire from their selections. There was room, and those two walls were perfectly proportioned for them. There was also the happy accident of how the drawings by Karlis Rekevics came along—they were just the right size at the right time to lend their authoritative yet subdued neutrality to those two opposing walls. An ironic twist was that it almost didn’t happen. Initially I had chosen one of his sculptures and thought the drawings were too large, and

anyway not sculptures. But then the sculpture suddenly became unavailable, and I realized the drawings could fit after all, so I suggested those to replace the sculpture.

PD: Many of those considerations bring to mind another thing, which is that you work as both a painter and a sculptor, and in ways that express how these processes inform one another. Is this maybe part of how those rather theatrical interactions between the sculptures and two paintings up front came to be in your room? As you enter or exit, you always have one at both stage right and stage left. In this context, it also sounds like walking around the room is like making a circuit inside a diorama.

RF: Perhaps my work as a painter did figure into the theatrical interactions between the sculptures and paintings, but maybe it’s more like theatrical oppositions. I had personal concerns in choosing submissions related to my ideas of how the opposing processes of painting and sculpture inform each other. I’ve been thinking a lot about gesture lately, about how a work can be made of thousands or relatively few gestures that need to be something like true. In sculpture more than in painting, it seems to me, gesture can displace and supplant malleable form at the same time. I’ve also been thinking about what it means for something to be finished. When do you stop? Is it rough or polished? How do proportion and gesture affect an outcome that’s good for the whole? I’m inclined to recognize the seeing more than the doing.

If a work succeeds in conveying a positive spirit, that may be enough.

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Curator:

Robert Franca Awards Committee Honorable Mention: Karin Malpeso Marco Palli Maud Bryt Yael Dresdner Celia Gerard John Erianne

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Clockwise from right:

John Erianne Our Time Is Running Out 2016, steel and cement, 62½ x 12 x 17 in.

Mallary Marks untitled

2019, Sculpey, 7½ x 3 x 1½ in.

Fukuko Harris Green Air 2019, air bubble, wire, mesh, paper and acrylic 20 x 14 x 4½ in.

Carole Seborovski Artemis of Ephesus 2017, fired clay, medium-fire glaze, 20½ x 9½ x 9½ in.

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Franca continued

Clockwise from above:

Celia Gerard Sketch 2018, glazed ceramic, 10 x 13 in.

Marco Palli The New Herd of Thought (Strongholds) 2018, raw dry clay coated with resin height varies 8-10 in.; 4 in. diameter

Maud Bryt Steam 2018, plaster, burlap, and acrylic paint, height varies 8-10 in.; 4 in. diameter

Yael Dresdner Sylvia’s mother’s gloves, my grandmother’s beads, my velvet pants 2018-19, gloves, beads, embroidery thread and velvet on canvas, 12 x 9 in.

Karin Malpeso Black Relic 2013, plaster and paint, 8 x 9 x 22 in.

Howard Kalish Punch & Judy 1 (view 1) 2018, concrete with archival concrete paint, 45 x 34 x 36 in.

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Clockwise from bottom left:

Karlis Rekevics Falsity Entirely Compatible 2012, spray paint on paper, 78 x 132 in.

Steven Peters Chatterkoo 2018, ceramic and epoxy, 22½ x 19¾ x 10¼ in.

Kathy Forer Furnace 2013, terra cotta, 3 x 8 x 10 in.

Timothy Giblin Crisis Mode

Franca continued

2016, bronze and spray paint, 13 x 12 x 9 in.

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David Humphrey

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Paul D’Agostino: Your selections overall seem to convey a kind of pop sensibility in bolder lines, forms and palettes. Are there certain artists whose works you were keen to include initially so you could then make further selections with those in mind?

David Humphrey: I started with Fran Shalom and Amanda Church as an axis of graphic boldness, but then I found myself in a swamp of other kinds of work. I navigated through this massive archive by means of disorientation; if the work confused me, even a little, I chose it. I wanted to give myself an installation challenge, a process in which the peculiar singularity of each work would have the happy power to exceed or undermine any curatorial big ideas.

PD: Going on impulse and instinct in the selection process, followed then by the kind of ‘intentional forgetting’ you’ve mentioned to me, must’ve made for an installation involving one surprise after another.

DH: When I arrived to hang the show I was startled that half the work was

unrecognizable to me. So I proceeded to organize the array using a principle of punctuated asymmetry.

Some works would be clustered, while an occasional small thing would be alone on a big wall, and a big one would be squeezed between the windows. My hope was that each work would sing its song within the syncopated cadence of my installation.

PD: You’ve talked about a ‘shaggy sociability’ in your own work, and you’ve spoken of curating as akin to making a painting. Did these ideas come to mind in notable ways while working on the Alumni Show?

DH: If there is a curatorial parallel to how I make a painting, it would be along the lines of this ‘shaggy sociability’. By that I mean that in my work, I try to bring heterogeneous languages and processes into a living dialog, to merge representational schemas, historically saturated images and technologies into a gathering of awkward individuals cooperating to tell a story.

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Curator:

David Humphrey Awards Committee Honorable Mention: Adam Simon Dan Rosenbaum Becky Yazdan Marie Peter-Tolz Fran Shalom Ewelina Bochenska

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Clockwise from top right:

Elizabeth Hazan Field #71 2018, oil on canvas, 20 x 16 in.

Fran Shalom On and Off the Cushion 2019, oil on canvas, 52 x 44 in.

Becky Yazdan Sad Sack 2019, oil on linen on panel, 20 x 20 in.

Kylie Heidenheimer GLADE II 2019, oil on wood panel, 20 x 16 in.

Emily Church Working on the Night 2019, oil on linen, 40 x 30 in.

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Clockwise from bottom:

Fukuko Harris Fragment 2019, styrofoam, acrylic and clay, 13 x 14 x 3 in.

Maia Ibar Fukashima Fish Scanned #5 2017, oil on canvas, 18 x 22 in.

Marie Peter-Toltz Mysterious Guest VII 2018, acrylic and spray paint on paper, 24 x 18 in.

Clintel Steed Words Bringing Rain

Humphrey continued

2019, oil on canvas, 32 x 24 in.

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Clockwise from right:

Jessica Weiss Blue Bird 2019, silkscreen, acrylic and fabric on canvas, 32 x 38 in.

Ivia Yavelow Runaway Parabola In Space 2019, oil stick, spray paint, charcoal, ink and mixed media on panel, 20 x 16 x 5 in.

Ewelina Bochenska Na-maka-o-Kaha’i 2019, oil and leather on canvas, 10 x 8 in.

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Humphrey continued

Clockwise from top right:

Jeannie Weissglass One Leg In 2018, acrylic and oil on canvas, 38 x 38 in.

Rachel Rickert Witching Hour 2018, oil on canvas, 40 x 30 in.

Adrianne Lobel pale forest 2019, oil on canvas, 36 x 36 in.

Laurie Marcus Regret 2019, acrylic paint & mixed-media, 13 x 16 in.

Mallary Marks untitled 2019, Sculpey, 6 x 3½ x 2 in.

Barbara Marks Recollection 141 (Portland) 2019, Acryla gouache, Flashe, and India ink on gessoed panel, 12 x 12 in.

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Humphrey continued

Clockwise from above:

Adam Simon Witness 1 2019, acrylic on wood panel, 12 x 16 in.

Ewelina Bochenska Na’eheu 2019, oil and leather on canvas, 10 x 8 in.

TsailingTseng Over the wall 2019, oil on canvas, 48 x 62 in.

Amanda Church Woman with One Eye 2018, oil on canvas, 32 x 36 in.

Matthew Choberka Hairshirt 2019, oil, 30 x 22 in.

Daniel Rosenbaum Three Amigos 2019, acrylic on canvas, 30 x 24 in.

Leslie Marcus Played 2019, acrylic on canvas, 36 x 32 in.

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Judith Linhares

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Paul D’Agostino: You’ve noted that the array of paintings you reviewed in the selection process seemed to very clearly convey the core values of the New York Studio School and its mission. Can you elaborate a bit?

Judith Linhares: In reviewing the submissions for the Alumni show, I was impressed with how the artists were aligned in their goals for their work. I see the work as very visual, in the sense that no extra written material needs to accompany the works. They can be understood in a shared context of what could be termed Modernism. One of the cornerstones of Modernism as I see it is an idea about significant form, that different parts exist with purposeful relationship to the whole, and there is an emphasis on process. I saw these ideas come to life in most of the work submitted.

PD: How did your experience as a juror and curator for this show differ from your many other such experiences? I understand you’ve done a great deal of this kind of work.

JL: The works submitted for the show were of high quality. Each piece was well considered and equipped to compete in the world of objects and images because attention is given to visual language. All the regular vocabularies of scale, color,

composition and surface are present, and added to that is an intention to communicate something beyond the literal.

Within these parameters the works I chose display a vast number of approaches, from the highly gestural of Tsailing Tseng and Eli Slaydon, to the considered and refined of Amanda Church and Fran Shalom. There are also fresh and inventive uses of materials, as in the use of printed collage by Jessica Weiss.

PD: We’ve chatted about the different situations and inner-workings that can be particular to the various MFA and certificate programs at various art schools, and at some point you noted that the Studio School is in some way ‘very New York,’ an adjectival use I really like thinking about.

JL: The Studio School is where many of the artists I admire have passed through.

It is the institution that is most touched by the New York school of painting known as the Abstract Expressionists, the group that redefined art in America after the 1940’s and ‘50’s. Many of the artists of that generation left their mark on the school. When I go around to galleries in New York, I see quite a bit of contemporary painting. This is not always true of other cities. New York is a good painting town, and The New York Studio School is a good painting school.

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Curator:

Judith Linhares Awards Committee Honorable Mention: Emily Zuch Colin Thomson Nina Baran Sirena LaBurn Janette Maxey Gina Michaels

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Clockwise from right:

Tsailing Tseng Queen of the bees 2019, oil on canvas, 50 x 55 in.

Emily Zuch Painting Table

2017, oil on canvas, 63 x 43½ in.

Holly Sturges Squash and Asparagus 2017, oil on panel, 12 x 12 in.

Yael Meridan Schori Rabbit on King’s road 2019, oil on canvas, 18 x 14 in.

Janette Maxey Poppy with Polka Dots 2018, oil on board, 10 x 8 in.

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Linhares continued

Clockwise from right:

Megan Williamson Floating 2018, oil on canvas, 14 x 12 in.

Gina Michaels Genus Georgeus 2015, bronze, 17 x 19 x 17 in.

Gina Michaels Hackles 2013, bronze, 26 x 17 x 14 in.

Eli Slaydon Beltane’s Veil 2019, oil on panel, 15 x 26 in.

Fran Shalom Holding On 2019, oil on canvas, 42 x 38 in.

David Fratkin Commingle 2018, urethane, PVA, pigment on evolon synthetic paper, 88 x 39 in.

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Linhares continued

Clockwise from right:

Jessica Weiss In the Pink 2019, silkscreen, acrylic and fabric on canvas, 60 x 54 in.

Jill Finsen Bird Girl 2019, oil on canvas, 20 x 16 in.

Amanda Church Full Swing 2018, oil on canvas, 32 x 36 in.

Sirena LaBurn Fortune Wheel 2018, oil on wood panel, 10 x 12 in.

Isabel Barber Night View 2019, oil on canvas, 11 x 27 in.

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Linhares continued

Clockwise from right:

Barbara Marks Recollection 133 (Monson) 2019, Acryla gouache, Flashe and India ink on gessoed panel, 16 x 16 in.

Tsailing Tseng Animal instinct 2019, oil on canvas, 50 X 55 in.

Colin Thomson Thomson Passenger 2 2019, oil on canvas, 30 x 26 in.

Margaret Tsirantonakis Blooming 2019, oil on canvas, 9 x 12 in.

Nina Kardon Baran Diana 2019, oil, 72 x 60 in.

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Fran O’Neill

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Paul D’Agostino: Your experiences with the New York Studio School run very long and very deep, and you’re very aware of how things at the school churn internally. Did this awareness and your history there inform how you selected works for the show? Surely on some level it was inevitable, but did it factor into your choices even more than thoughts about themes or styles?

Fran O’Neill: I know the rigor of being a student at the Studio School, and I know the sense of dedication and commitment that most graduates walk away with. I would say this made my selection process even more difficult, as I believe anyone who has studied at the school remains very serious about their practice. Visual aspects I was looking for in my selections included diversity and intensity. I was also taking scale into consideration.

PD: This might be an unfair question, but are there any certain corners or wall areas where your hanging conveys something about relationships among artists?

Friendships, for example? Generations?

Wall mates who were once studio mates?

You actually know these things, and some of us might ‘see’ what you’re doing because we recognize their works.

FO: There are some connections between friends. I was also interested in the dialog certain pieces had to each other.

Some of these connected friends do know and admire each other. Others, I’m not sure they even know each other, but now I think they might like to since they share kindred ideas and themes.

PD: Is there anything current in your own work that might’ve indirectly informed how you worked on the show?

Certain palette choices? I noted that there’s a somewhat deeper, darker palette among many of the works you chose, and that many of your own recent paintings I’ve seen elsewhere lately, especially the works exploring depth in new ways, display colors that are similarly describable.

FO: I’m not sure I was aware of this! It’s a totally fun idea though. I think I can’t help but be drawn to works that seem to be exploring a theme that is current in my own work as well.

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Curator:

Fran O’Neill Awards Committee Honorable Mention: Deborah Renee Kaplan Jonathan Harkham Nick Lamia Carlo Cittadini Anthony Rebholz Denis Farrell Ophir Agassi

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Clockwise from right:

Ophir Agassi Dawn 2019, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 16 in.

Carlo Cittadini At Last 2019, oil on steel, 12 x 11 in.

Tom Fitzharris Rome Courtyard 12 2017, ink, conte, acrylic and watercolor on paper, 17 x 14 in.

Jonathan Harkham Study of standing figure/still life (Zaku) 2019, oil on canvas, 30 x 42 in.

Seth Becker Rose Bush 2018, oil on panel, 12 x 9 in.

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O’Neill continued

Clockwise from right:

Danielle Dimston Untitled 2019, oil on canvas, 28 x 30 in.

Hearne Pardee Vertical Video Grid 2019, acrylic on paper, 50 x 38 in.

Laura Jacobs Cupboard Scroll 1 2018, charcoal, thread, acrylic and masking tape on paper, 120 x 36 in.

Poppy Luca Three Stages of Man 2019, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in.

Ro Lohin Untitled Figure 2018, oil on canvas, 36 x 24 in.

Claudia Baez The sculptures of Picasso photographed

by BrassaĂŻ: Femme aux feuilles, 1943 2019, oil and charcoal on canvas, 14 x 11 in.

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O’Neill continued

Clockwise from right:

Audrey Cohn-Ganz Aaron Chaneling Turtle 2019, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in.

Maja Kihlstedt Centric 2018, graphite on paper, 15 x 18 in.

Vanessa Lawrence Fly by Night 2019, wire, resin, wood and plaster, 11¾ x 11¾ x 4 in.

Denis Farrell Memory’s Multiple Orgasms 2014, gouache on paper, 8 x 6 in. (framed)

Samuel Levy Landscape 2015, oil on linen, 39 x 54 in.

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O’Neill continued

Clockwise from right:

Katelynn Mills Marilyn Misfit 2019, acrylic on paper, 45 x 45 in.

Nick Lamia untitled 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 20 x 20 in.

Stephanie Franks Newtown Creek 3 2019, charcoal and acrylic on paper, 30 x 22 in.

Jon Rogers Thunderbird 2016, oil on panel, 18 x 24 in.

Catherine Lepp Portrait of the Artist as a shadow of her former-self 2 2019, oil on clay board, 12 x 9 in.

Catherine Lepp Portrait of the Artist as a shadow of her former-self 3 2019, oil on clay board, 12 x 9 in.

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Clockwise from below:

Edmond Praybe Fragments 2019, oil on panel, 20 x 20 in.

Deborah Renee Kaplan 5:15 A.M. May 8, 2015, digital photography, print, 3 x 4 in.

Deborah Renee Kaplan 4:43 A.M. July 15, 2014, digital photography, print, 3 x 4 in.

Deborah Renee Kaplan 1:03 A.M. March 3, 2015, digital photography, print, 3 x 4 in.

Benjamin Pritchard Jack

O’Neill continued

2019, oil on linen, 18 in. diameter each

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Clockwise from right:

Tina Kraft Piero’s Tree 2018, oil on linen panel, 10½ x 10½ in.

Catriona Pavek Train carriage 2019, pencil on tracing paper, 26 x 19¼ in.

Matthew Choberka The Unreal 2019, oil and acrylic on canvas, 84 x 60 in.

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O’Neill continued

Clockwise from right:

Kamilla Talbot Inland Sea 19 2017, watercolor and screenprint on paper, 11 x 10 in.

Tina Kraft Trees on a Hill 2018, oil on linen panel, 6ž x 12 in.

Suzanne Guppy Halloween - Two Moons 2017, oil on stretched linen, 18 x 14 in.

Marjorie Kramer Snow with Shed and Woodpile 2015, oil on linen, 22 x 28 in.

Patrick Neal Fantin-Latour 2 2018, oil and nail polish on canvas, 36 x 24 in.

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Clockwise from lower left:

Gerri Rachins Place 0053 2017, Flashe paint and graphite on Arches paper, 9 x 12 in.

Joyce Shapiro Enter 2016, colored inks on washi, 4 x 5 in.

Melanie Kozol Galway 2019, acrylic on panel, 12 x 24 in.

Anthony Rebholz Kabooki 2018, oil on canvas, 60 x 72 in.

Lynette Lombard Late Winter, Charles River 2019, oil on canvas, 11 x 14 in.

Mary Murphy

O’Neill continued

Vinscan #8

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2013, archival Epson digital print, 16 x 16 in.

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Claire Sherman

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Paul D’Agostino: A desire to convey ‘ways of thinking about painting,’ formally and otherwise, is how you’ve described the ethos of your selection process for the show. Can you take this a bit further, particularly on the formal end of things?

lineage of thinking and making at the Studio School, a continuum of sorts.

How can you trace both past and ongoing ways of thinking and making through the work of so many years of Studio School students?

Claire Sherman: Throughout the process of selecting work for the exhibition, I was trying to present a diversity of perspectives. I considered work individually, but also as a group, striving to represent a multitude of ways of working in relation to painting. As much as I hope the work feels harmonious as a group, I wasn’t aiming to present one singular type of work, formally or conceptually. It was my hope that presenting a myriad of perspectives would lend strength to all the work together—that in their differences, the works would also achieve greater depth, and that the variety of work would strengthen the viewing of the group as a whole.

PD: Your wall arrangements work so well compositionally, even sometimes catercorner from one another in single corners. For you, is this as much another ‘way of thinking about painting’ as it is certainly a ‘way of thinking about curating’? Are there any relational or compositional moments with which you’re particularly pleased?

PD: Was aiming for such a variety of perspectives also how you ended up with such an especially rich mix of recent and non-recent graduates, or was that something you were also trying to accomplish with your selections? In a sense, I suppose either aim could yield both outcomes anyway.

CS: I was conscious of this throughout the process. While there are many recent graduates represented in the show, I was also aiming to include a longer historical

CS: I am new to curating, and I was pleased with some of the connections that formed throughout the space in the process. This selection process can be difficult: you are viewing images on a screen, and trying to consider scale as you view works as digital files. As I worked my way through the process, I viewed the works periodically together as a group on a screen to determine if the selections might have interesting moments together. As I began to curate the room specifically, I was particularly interested again in the diversity of the work. How could moments of color or formal decisions be echoed in very different types of work?

How could a more tightly rendered or harder-edged work also bring diversity in viewing something more gestural? How can those similarities and differences create a rich viewing experience?

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Curator:

Claire Sherman Awards Committee Honorable Mention: Clintel Steed Elisa Jensen Michael Meehan Sirena LaBurn Georgia McGovern Ewelina Bochenska

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Clockwise from right:

Michael Meehan Pack Ice, Pikes Arm, NL 2018, oil on linen, 40 x 40 in.

Jannell Turner Detection 2018, oil on canvas, 60 x 48 in.

Elisa Jensen Crane Aloft 2019, oil and sand on wood, 28 x 28 in.

Ewelina Bochenska Na’eheu 2019, oil and leather on canvas, 10 x 8 in.

Lynette Lombard Last Snow, Green Oaks 2019, oil on canvas, 24 x 18 in.

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Sherman continued

Clockwise from bottom right:

Fran Shalom Bare Attention 2019, oil on canvas, 24 x 24 in.

Sirena LaBurn Rain Dance 2018, oil on canvas, 8 x 8 in.

Gina Werfel Daily Swim 2019, acrylic and mixed media on panel, 20 x 32 in. (diptych)

Charity Baker Shadow on the Lake 2019, oil on canvas, 36 x 36 in.

Laura Karetzky Embedded A and M 2017, oil on wood panel, 14 x 11 in.

Georgia McGovern Trap 2019, oil on linen, 40 x 38 in.

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Clockwise from opposite page, top left:

Matilda Shepherd Cornfields 2019, oil on canvas, 16 x 20 in.

Clintel Steed Self Portrait with Maggrette infusion 2016, oil on canvas, 48 x 60 in.

Renee Lai Shipe Park Pool #2 2018, gouache on paper, 9 x 12 in.

Carlo D’Anselmi Upstream/Downstream 2019, oil on linen, 54 x 46 in.

Natasha Wright Untitled 2019, oil on canvas, 60 x 48 in.

Marjorie Kramer Self Portrait, Winter with Houseplants

Sherman continued

2017, oil on canvas, 20 x 25 in.

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Sherman continued

Clockwise from above:

Gerri Rachins Place 0094 2017, Flashe paint and acrylic on Arches paper, 9 x 12 in.

Mark Milroy Girl with Greyhounds 2019, oil on linen, 44 x 42 in

Cecelia Rembert Canaan 2019, oil and wax on panel, 60 x 48 in.

Jeremy Herrmann Way 2 2019, oil and acrylic on canvas, 54 x 48 in.

Kristin Malin November Full Moon Over Fox Island 2017, oil on aluminum, 5 x 7 in.

Becky Yazdan Bloodletting 2018, oil on linen on panel, 20 x 20 in.

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Left:

Herbert Matter Mercedes 1938 Herbert Matter ďż˝

Below:

Herbert Matter Mercedes Matter with students at New York Studio School Courtesy of the Department of Special Collections, Stanford University Library

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ARCHIVES [ This Section is a work in progress intended to provide some historical context to the school, as well as convey a sense of what life was like for alumni during their time at the school. If any alumni have photos/memorabilia or memories they would like to share please email mtcheyan@gmail.com ]

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Graham Nickson 2015 Photo: Maud Bryt

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A History of the

New York Studio School In September of 1963, an article appeared in ARTnews by painter and educator Mercedes Matter, which gave voice to the grievance of many art students who felt frustrated by the frantic pace and fragmented courses of contemporary art education. It criticized art education for what it had become, contrasting it with the character of what academies of fine arts and artists’ ateliers had been.

The article had the effect on her students of galvanizing them to create a school themselves, if she would help them. She agreed, and together they founded the New York Studio School of Drawing, Painting and Sculpture.

For the faculty, the students chose the artists whom they had admired as instructors; Matter enlisted the artists of exceptional quality whom she knew to be sympathetic.

The early faculty included Charles Cajori, Louis Finkelstein, Philip Guston, Alex Katz, Earl Kerkam, George McNeil, and Esteban Vicente for painting; for sculpture: Peter Agostini, Sidney Geist, Reuben Nakian, and George Spaventa; Nicholas Carone and Mercedes Matter for drawing, and Meyer Schapiro and Leo Steinberg for art history.

The School opened on September 23rd, 1964 with a student body of sixty selected students who had responded to the call of a new approach to art education. The original space, a loft on Broadway, had itself had been found by the students, under the leadership of Marc Zimetbaum.

The students realized that during the first week, they had spent more hours drawing at the School than in an entire semester at another institution. This was to be the character of the New York Studio School: daily continuity of study through work in the studio.

The School was from the beginning supported by generous funding from external foundations, and from an enthusiastic and involved Board of Trustees. Most gratifying, especially in the early years, was the endorsement given by the art community, who showed their support for the experiment by donating artworks to raise money for the School.

In its second year, the need for more space became apparent. An ideal location on Eighth Street, which had comprised the original

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Whitney Museum of American Art, became available. The enormous commitment of taking on a site of this size became realized through the generosity of one of the School’s first students, Claudia Stone, who died suddenly and bequeathed to the School half of her estate. Thus the School’s marvellous building and permanent home is testimony of how much the School owes to the devotion of its original students.

During the years there have been a number of Directors or Deans, including Sidney Geist, Morton Feldman (who had been a major influence at the School through his talks), Mercedes Matter, Bruce Gagnier, and since 1988, Graham Nickson. Throughout the changes in leadership, the School has maintained its essential character of learning through perception and allowing students the circumstances for consistent work.

The painter Graham Nickson, the current Dean, has expanded the School in a number of ways, one of which includes his Drawing Marathon. He has restored the building to its inherent beauty, and enabled the necessary reparations to be made. Most importantly, he has infused the atmosphere of the School with his extraordinary energy and his passion for art.

Over the last two decades, the School has been enriched in many areas. Indeed, several programs developed during this period have become synonymous with the School. The Drawing Marathon is of primary importance, underlying the fundamental power of drawing issues and their continuing relevance to painting and sculpture, and being able to ‘see’.

The Marathon has become a major force in

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understanding and celebrating drawing, both nationally and internationally. Drawing Marathons and their example have inspired and influenced the teaching of drawing worldwide, and continue to be a highly important part of the program.

Another influence on intellectual and creative thought has been the highly regarded Evening Lecture Series program, a forum for major artists, thinkers, critics, art historians and poets, as well as emerging and middle career individuals. It stimulates the making and thinking about art of our time, and encourages lively and crucial discourse.

The School’s programs have developed, from its original non-degree position to its new Masters of Fine Arts program, cautiously and with great deliberation. The School still believes in the same powerful elements of its historical position, and is strengthened by a robust administrative structure. We are now able to offer our students the advantages of a Masters degree along with a superlative program.

Other exciting aspects include the student exhibition series, the Orvieto, Italy program, the Art History seminars, and most recently the formal establishment of the Certificate and Masters programs. Along with these, substantial scholarship support has been established.

The School continues to grow in strength and has maintained a belief in its original vision: faith in the great language of art; a total commitment to research and excellence; the support for intensity, integrity and serious work habits; the encouragement of an open mind, and the conviction of the power of art to change one’s life.

The NYSS “Manifesto,� signed in 1964 by eleven of the most eminent artists of the time.

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Recollections Richard Bosman I was accepted by the Studio School in the summer of 1967 after having completed the 2 year course at the Byam Shaw school of Art and Design in London.

I arrived in NYC the first week of September.

I remember walking by the school on the Sunday before school was to open on the off chance that I could take an early look at the facility. Another new student also wanted to get in and after he realized the front door was locked, he asked me to give him a leg up so he could climb in an open window. He got in and went downstairs to open the front door to let me in. Wow, I thought welcome to America!

My first priority was getting a part time job so that I could support myself. I got a job on Chambers Street at a mail order business where I worked in the morning and went to school in the afternoon. I don’t remember ever paying tuition or in fact even being asked about it.

One of the great things about the NYSS is it’s physical location and all that the City has to offer. Thinking back it was a wonderful experience… to be in a community of serious committed young artists with an outstanding faculty of working artists. It was run by Mercedes Matter who was the Dean and was very loosely structured. There were drawing and painting classes with a model that one could attend or not. Nothing seemed to be required and it was left to the individual to get as much as out if the experience as he or she desired. I also think one of the interesting things was that there was a philosophy that was strongly held about the importance of the figure in art. That, at least gave one the option of rebelling against the prevailing dogma. Infact there were two opposing faction… a more conservative faction that drew inspiration from Cezanne, Giacometti, Hoffman etc and those looking for a more “modern” approach.

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Although I had a reasonably good foundation from my two years in London I came with no particular direction and the stimulation of New York and the other students was overwhelming. I went to some classes run by George McNeil, Milton Resnick and Leland Bell and signed up for studio visits from what I would now characterize as the schools two visiting artists… namely Phillip Guston and Alex Katz. They would come for an afternoon every two weeks or so and one could sign a sheet for a studio visit.

After a couple of weeks at the school I had my first critique from Alex Katz and it completely changed my thinking. I showed figurative painting done in blocks of impressionistic color (I was really influenced at the time by Nicholas de Stael). He thought I was dealing with too many elements at once and suggested I just use black and white until I found an image. I started by appropriating advertisements of objects such as venetian blinds, shower rods and tubes (I was attempting to stop smoking tor the umpteenth time) etc and started dealing with volume and modeled forms which was a direct challenge to the schools orthodoxy of flatness. He encouraged me to continue and the 10 or so minutes he spent with me every two weeks were priceless. He didn’t limit the conversation to just painting but talked about movies, poetry readings,dance etc… so it was a really broad take on what it meant to be a contemporary artist.

I remember a student only critique and many seemed horrified at what I was doing. Later we had a school wide critique with Mercedes who liked what I was doing and arranged for me to have my own studio on the second floor facing 8th Street. I felt vindicated!

Guston would come by on the alternate weeks and it was the similar deal with the sign in sheet. Whereas Katz’s visits were often one on one , Guston would go around the studios

Library discussion with Leland Bell, Philip Guston, David Reed, Richard Bosman and other students

with a group of students. Interestingly most of his student followers were male whereas Katz’s were female. I found Guston to be a very passionate, philosophical man who was very questioning about painting.He was in a transitional period between his minimal dark period and the later more political figurative work. He smoked constantly. At any rate he liked my work.

One day there was a scheduling mixup and they both arrived on the same day and decided to have a discussion. The theme was the amount of words used in critical articles in art magazines. The consensus was the more austere and minimal the images, the more words were needed to buttress the work. They both agreed on that.

It was great to have two very opposing sensibilities as teachers.

At the end of my first year Morty Feldman became the Dean and although a composer he had a very strong relationship to the art world and especially with Guston. He gave these wonderful lectures that were almost musical, with long pauses between thoughts. In fact almost all the lectures then were without visual aids, so they were very different to the contemporary powerpoint lecture. More like discussions

and philosophical in nature. Feldman and Guston both had there own rooms in the school that they used as studios. In Morty’s case it made him more available though one would never interrupt his work. He was a very beneficial presence in the school and very generous to the students. We would have a weekly poker game that he joined and he’d make sure to lose so that we could get a sandwich at the 8th Street Deli. He always had a cigarette in his mouth with the longest ash at the end.

Like most schools we had student cliques.

Everyone was poor, the Vietnam war was still going on so it was a socially fraught atmosphere. The dress code was mainly army surplus fatigues, watch caps and navy pea coats. I’d show up from work still wearing a tie which made me feel a little singular.

Some of us would sleep on the model stand mattress since our shared apartments on the lower east side were constantly getting robbed and getting there without being mugged was like running a gauntlet.

At the end of my second year Alex asked if I’d like to go to Skowhegan which I did. It was also also a great experience.

My school days were over and my life was about to get whole lot tougher.

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The Studio School Lois Baron The New York Studio School of Drawing, Painting and Sculpture—referred to as the Studio School in the Art World, was among us students and many who taught there, simply “The School.” For us students, it occupied our lives.

We were expected to work in our studios roughly 9 to 5 on weekdays. There were lectures by art historians, critics, artists, musicians and thinkers such as Buckminster Fuller on Friday nights. On Saturdays it was galleries. Museums on Sundays. Wednesday afternoons Art Critics or historians lectured and led discussions in the library. There were 16 of us in my first year, so it was very personal. No one was really keeping track of what you did, but everyone knew.

When I moved to New York with my first husband in the summer of 1966, I found that completing the few credits outstanding for my undergraduate degree would mean fulfilling yet another university’s requirements. Instead I chose to attend the Studio School, a new and unique venture.

It was in a loft at Broadway and Bleecker, a skuzzy, industrial neighborhood. The other floors of the building were Chinese sweatshops making clothing. It didn’t offer degrees, but had a stellar faculty—people whose careers I had been following in magazines, newspapers, galleries and museums. The purpose was to provide students who aspired to be professional artists an education of the kind offered by academies of fine arts and artists’ ateliers of the past.

Mercedes Matter was the Dean. The School had been founded in 1964 by a group of Pratt students with Mercedes’ help to fill a perceived void. Some of my teachers were Leland Bell, Charles

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Lois Baron on a trip to Boston, 1969

Cajori, Louis Finkelstein, Philip Guston, Esteban Vicente, Milton Resnick, Nicholas Carone and Alex Katz, who was my main mentor. Meyer Shapiro, Leo Steinberg and Dore Aston were regulars in Art History. Morton Feldman, the composer was a regular and Dean for awhile. Morty was a good friend of Philip Guston and deeply knowledgeable about art. He looked like a hedge hog and his incredibly erudite remarks were uttered in the strongest of Bronx accents. Louie Finklestein had nearly as strong an accent, but looked nice and was nearly as erudite.

Most of the faculty were Abstract Expressionists with the exception of Alex Katz, who though steeped in that tradition of painting was of a younger generation and doing work that was brand new.

It was the time of Minimalism, Conceptualism, Pop, Op, anti-illusion and

“Painting is Dead.” The Abstract Expressionists, who had broken through the cubist grid with gestural paint strokes, asserting an existential moment and a heroic, romantic stance, were being replaced. To the credit of The School, every important artist, critic or historian doing any of the newer work was there on Friday nights presenting it.

As you can imagine, this often led to angry arguments. Sometimes these were upsetting, hilarious, nasty, elegantly reasoned or irritating. They were always illuminating.

In my first year when we were still in the loft, Mark Zimetbaum, one of the founding students, had an honest-to-goodness nervous breakdown on a Friday night. Robert Rauschenberg

had been making a presentation about his “white paintings.” The discussion was rather heated. An agitated Mark ranted wildly, shouted “Cézanne is the culprit of the evening!” and stomped out, leaving a shocked and silent room.

One day Claudia Stone, who was painting next to me from the same still life didn’t show up. The next day we learned she had died suddenly and we all went to her funeral in the afternoon. Turns out she was enormously rich and had left half of her estate to The School. That’s when we moved to Eighth Street to the original Whitney Museum Building.

I finally left my first husband about the same time.

—L.B., October 2012

The First Visit of Milton Resnick Lois Baron David Reed’s account (see p. 71 —M.T.) of Resnick’s first visit to the loft in 1966 brought back my memory of a very specific day—in fact, a day I never forgot.

When Resnick walked in, I was immediately intimidated because he walked straight to me and demanded, “You like linoleum?”.

Embarrassed, I stammered something. If he used his finger nails on the painting, I don’t remember—I thought it was a rag, but who knows?

The shiny, stand oil surface probably did look like linoleum. The forms were big and blocky.

“What interests you about this still-life?”

I didn’t know. I was working on one of the set-ups Mercedes had put out for us.

One of the things he said to me has stuck throughout my life: “You don’t have to make it with hammer and nails.” I still think of it as I try to paint surfaces like Manet or Velasquez and worry that I’m still a carpenter. The impact of Resnick’s presence and his connection to the work gave me a new awareness that day.

Later, was we sat at his feet in the fading light, all other thoughts vanished. He went on for hours about his experiences in the art world with galleries, other artists and his thoughts on art. I felt I was beginning to have an education.

—L.B., 2019

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Ben Pritchard in front of his painting William Lee

Recollections Ben Pritchard I found the Studio School from a blue catalog filled with hard to discern black and white images. I came in for an interview with Graham and new immediately that this place would change my life. Art..or at least the kind of work I felt it took to make art was in the air of the place.

Many voices, often contradictory, the argument was the point. The confusion forced me to think, to make decisions; and making decisions is how you begin to develop a practice. I was lucky, I had Graham and Andrew as well as Cajori and Rosemary and Esteban Vicente who knew Picasso and others equally passionate and invaluable. I had Mercedes who seemed to hate everything with a fierce love. I remember making a huge painting of the day and night, working on it for months and watching Mercedes and Rosemary argue about it.. whether it was worthless or not for at least an hour. I wanted approval, to be good, to be accepted, however in that moment I realized that the discussion itself was the approval.

Mercedes started that school back in the sixties from nothing and endowed it with her unique approach back when only men were considered serious artists. She expect-

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ed rigor and intensity in all aspects of the work and life and her students were her life in many ways. She taught me to seek out the difficult and keep pushing it until it became my own.

Years later I was working there and she was teaching and she would come into the office exhausted and then get that determined, steely look and dash back into the drawing room teaching and art were necessary. Later that year she took a fall and on visiting her in the hospital she grabbed my arm and looked me in the eye and implored me to not let the soul of the school die to not let it lose its spirit. I walked out of the hospital, young minded, thinking that was kind of heavy.

Of course she never left that hospital alive.

Now I look at the imposition that I experienced from her very seriously, as I know that Graham Nickson has. Because we all know how precious and unique and fortunate we are to come into direct contact with this kind of work. I understand now that she devoted herself to the creation of the unique anarchic spirit that both challenges and fosters a specific kind of intensity in the people who pass through those doors.

All of this work is a testament to that.

David Reed in the studio, 1970

The Unsettling Mark David Reed

I come to you like a snake.—Milton Resnick HOW DOES ONE LEARN ABOUT PAINTING? How does one become a painter? In 1966, I came to New York City, a 20-year-old from San Diego. I lived in a grungy, roach-infested apartment on the Lower East Side, and, determined to be open to new experiences, I walked every day to the Studio School, carrying my lunch in a clear plastic bag.

The New York Studio School of Drawing, Painting and Sculpture was then in a loft building on the northeast corner of Broadway and Bleecker. It was a breakaway program founded two years earlier by students and faculty from the Pratt Institute. Believing that they could better learn in a studio environment, they had rented the large loft, hired models and invited artists they admired to come to teach. One morning in the lobby, a limping homeless person entered the elevator with me. His face was emaciated and pale, framed by long black hair that hung over the collar of a ragged, greasy overcoat. I expected him to get out and panhandle on one of the lower floors, where there would be good marks in the resident clothing manufacturers and showrooms. But he remained in the elevator until we both got off. Perhaps he had once been a painter, I thought to myself. As he exited, I was able to get a better look at his

face. His features and gestures reminded me of those of the French writer Antonin Artaud [1896-1948] as he appeared in photographs.

I had been obsessed with Artaud. Was this Artaud’s ghost come to haunt me?

I followed the man over to where a group of students were at work on their paintings. He spoke first with Lois Baron, who was sitting on a stool, painting a small brown cubist still life on a tall easel. (See p. 69 for Lois’ account. —M.T.) Since she had mixed too much stand oil in with her paint, the thick surface was shiny and crusted. As I edged forward to hear what the transient was saying, he scratched his nails over the painting, breaking the dried surface and smearing the underlying wet paint. Placing his hands under the tails of his overcoat, he bent low, bowing to her, then straightened while raising his coat behind him as if he were a huge bird trying to fly. Again I thought of Artaud.

“You have to break through the surface!” the man said; “Oh, I know, I know. You think that you’ll fall through the floor and end up in hell. But you won’t. You’ll be right here in this room!” Lois backed away in horror.

Some students ran for help, others tried to grab him by the elbows and push him toward the elevator. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m Milton Resnick. You asked me to come to teach.”

Excerpt from a Septemberr 2011 essay, reprinted with permission of the author. Complete essay at https://www.artinamericamagazine.com/news-features/magazines/milton-resnick/

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An E-mail Conversation with Madelon Umlauf Michael Tcheyan Michael Tcheyan: Hi Madelon, If you are willing and can find the time to write up your own recollections about your time at the school that would be great. We would be interested in (1.) what you were doing before you learned about the school, (2.) how you learned about the school, what made you decide to apply, what the application process was like, what made you decide to attend after you were accepted, (3.) what it was like once you came to NY and started going to the school, (4.) what the school was like, who you studied with, (5.) other students you remember, and (6.) what was the village and soho like, etc.

2. David and Joe explained that they were starting a school with a famous artist,- Mercedes Matter whom they had been studying with, in charge and asked if I wanted to apply for a scholarship with Mercedes at the new New York Studio School. When they told me Hans Hofmann was going to teach there, I replied affirmatively of course, because Hans Hofmann was my favorite living painter. I gave David and Joe my portfolio to show Mercedes.

A couple of days later Joe and David told me Mercedes liked my work and that I would have a full scholarship.

Madelon Umlauf:

3. At the school Mercedes said my daily job assignment was to be in charge of the models among various other duties. During drawing sessions with the model, I was surprised by the other student’s manner of drawing which. were characterized by an unfamiliar sort of shorthand meant to represent the figure, which was new to me. It was similar to that of Giacometti and Cezanne whose work I had seen in slides shown to me by Leland Bell in Aspen and cubism. I got Joe Eletz to explain what Mercedes was and all the students were up to. I learned how to use lines that were tangents of the curves of the figure and did not mark the paper until the extention of the linear tangent intersected with another. This new drawing style enabled me to describe an exact volume with no outlines, These tangents of the volume could also describe the surrounding negative space that the volume occupied and I liked the precision of measuring the angles to locate intersections and felt empowered with new tools to capture images.

My new drawing style left out outlines and included only intersections of planes or shapes in illusionistic space.

I will answer the above numbered questions: 1. In May, 1964 I had just graduated with a BFA in Painting and Art history at the University of Texas at Austin. I applied to many graduate schools but heard only from one, the Brooklyn Museum School which informed me that I had received the Max Beckmann International Competitive Scolarship. When I arrived at the Brooklyn Museum. School I asked if they had a place where I could stay or a job I could apply for as I explained that I only had 60 dollars in my purse.

They had neither, so I told them I could not accept the Scholarship Award, because I had to find a job in order to find an apartment. So I went back to NYCity and got a job at the Figaro Coffee House, where three weeks later, David Lawless and Joe Eletz were having coffee in my ‘station’. David whom I had met in the summer of ‘62 at the Aspen School of Fine Arts (where we had both studied with Leland Bell) introduced me to his friend Joe and asked me what I was doing in NY. I told him I had come up to NY because I was just won the scholarship but unhappily had turned it down for lack of a place to live and funds.

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4. I came to school early and stayed late. I had been living in the back room of a friend’s apartment for 2 or 3 weeks, when I was offered a live-in studio by a coffee shop customer. He said that he was being evicted by the police for running poker games and needed someone to take over the lease. He had been given 2 days to vacate. It turned out to be the studio of Paul Georges from which the gambler was being evicted. So after seeing it, I took over the lease for $70 a month in 1964 and the next year Paul Georges extended my lease thru ’65 and ‘66 because his visiting teaching job at Yale was extended. I was in heaven because the my sublet studio was just directly across Broadway from the Studio School, and my job at the Figaro was on Bleecker St. at the corner of McDougal only 3 three block away. San Remo and the Gaslight were within blocks. The Figaro was the social center of the Village, everyone came in there, even Willem De Kooning. I had met Henry Geldzahler, through a friend over lunch at the Metropolitan Museum. I did not expect to see him again but Henry brought Andy Warhol to meet me as a prospective actress in one of his movies, which proposal I turned down.

5. Students I remember well were Marjorie Kramer, Richard Castellana, Joe Eletz, David Lawless, Russell Wilfand, Mark Zimetbaum, Chuck O’Conner, Frank Zimbardi, Sally Roberts, Helene Dawson, NormanTurner, Larry Faden, Roger Jacoby, Irene Peslikis, Jene Highstene, Marilyn Levine, and Herb Schifflin. The Faculty I studied under were Mercedes Matter and Charles Cajori. Cajori came to my studio on Henry St. to critique my drawings and paintings and write a letter of recommendation to the Yale Art School. A friend with a truck drove me and my large paintings to New Haven.

NYSS Visiting Faculty that first year were: Hans Hofmann, Esteban Vicente (who gave me a critique at my studio across Broadway), Art Historian: Meier Shapiro.

Mercedes got artist friends of hers like Larry Rivers to perform musically at a party she organized at the school. As Mercedes directed,

I picked up cheeses, cold cuts, pates at the best markets in the village. On another occaision she invited students to a Carnegie Hall performance of Morty Feldman, who accompanied us to the nearby Russian Tea Room after his concert.We students were exposed to Mercedes’ very European style of living. These are examples of how generous she was with students at the school, not just with valuable teaching.

When my sublet was up on Broadway, I searched for and found a studio, high up on the 5th floor on Henry St. with 6 north windows and 4 on the east. But it needed so much work there was only DC current, the floors were covered with inches of grease, and there was a huge whole in the floor,plus the walls badly needed paint. The landlord wanted $150 a month, but I talked him down to $70 when I explained and listed how much work needed to be done.

There was no shower or bathtub and just a tiny sink in one of the 2 bathrooms. Marjorie Kramer came to share the half the studio and helped me with half the rent for months. I went to the City Baths on Houston at Allen which I was so grateful for they seemed so luxurious—all marble plus hot water. When you entered you were given a towel and soap for a dime. These Baths were a holdover of the 20’s and 30’s when no one around Allen Street had hot water; now were used by the police dept. for their prisoners, on specific days that I avoided. After more than a year of using the City Bath, I learned how to do plumbing, including theading, cutting and coupling pipes, when I remodeled one of the ‘him and her’ bathrooms into a shower, and put in a hot water heater and a deep stainless steel (my design) sink. The men at the neigborhood plumbing and hardware store advised me on every detail of plumbing including what kind of sand was needed for the cement I would mix and pour around the drain pipe of the shower (the sand had to have corners—not be smooth). So I really found the neighborhood merchants unbelievably helpful. The lower east side was not especially dangerous, but you had to be extremely cautious and protective.

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In memorium:

Joyce Pensato (1941-2019) Counterclockwise from left:

Joyce Pensato Snowball Mickey 2017, enamel and metallic paint on linen, 72 x 64 in.

Courtesy of Petzel, New York.

Joyce Pensato I Killed Kenny First Edition ©️ 2014, Santa Monica Museum of Art, California. Courtesy of Petzel, New York; Santa Monica Museum of Art, California.

Joyce Pensato, Felix at the Rose Installation view, Foster Mural at the Rose Art Museum, September 12, 2015-June 5, 2016. Courtesy of Petzel, New York; Rose Art Museum, Massachusetts.

Joyce Pensato in the Studio Unknown photographer

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Joyce Pensato in the Studio Photo: Elizabeth Ferry. Courtesy of Petzel, New York.

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