As soon as the paint was dry to the touch, Jackson broke
down the stretcher, rolled the canvas, and transported both
to Peggy's apartment building on East Sixty-first Street.
When he reassembled it in the low, ground-floor elevator
lobby, however, he discovered it was too long-by almost a
foot. Sleepless, distraught, and close to panic, he
telephoned Peggy at the gallery. "He became quite
hysterical," Peggy recalled. That was before he began to
drink. Knowing that Jackson would be in her apartment that
day, and "knowing his great weakness," Peggy had hidden her
liquor before leaving for the gallery. But Jackson soon
found it. His calls became more and more frantic. He pleaded
with her to "come home at once and help place the painting."
Finally, she called Marcel Duchamp and David Hare and
persuaded them to rescue Jackson. "Peggy wanted us to tack
it up," Hare recalled, "but it missed by eight inches so we
cut eight inches off from one end. Duchamp said that in this
type of painting it wasn't needed. We told Jackson, who
didn't care." By then, Jackson was too drunk to care.
Weaving and incoherent, he walked into the apartment where
Connolly's party was already under way, crossed the room,
unzipped his pants, and peed in the marble fireplace.
The demons were loose again
Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith, Jackson Pollack: An
American Saga (New York: Harper Perennial, 1991) pp. 468-9.
Between studies there were a good few parties at Yale:
parties in the Rogerses' house when their old lady was away
in Florida; parties in Eldred's attic, parties given by
other students, and above all a big party given by Paul
Rudolph for Jim, which has become legendary. Richard Rogers
vividly remembers the crucial episode at it: 'He had this
amazing modern, real extreme modern, slightly Hollywood
apartment, with steps coming in at the higher level, marble
steps cantilevered off the wall. At the end there was a
double-height wall of glass, and outside this there was
probably seven foot of open space before a big white wall.
The wall had a great light on it so you looked at it as
though it was the screen of a cinema, and the light
reflected back into the room -- absolutely white. And
everybody else was there. There was a piano, and let's say a
hundred people. An hour later, still no Jim. No Eldred. Door
opens up at high level, there's a commotion, yells and
giggles and so on, and then suddenly there come Eldred and
Jim, down these cantilevered slightly marbly steps, giggling
because they're canned, literally just rolling down these
goddamn steps, drunk. It was a great entry. Paralytic. And
like a lot of these paralytic situations, they didn't hurt
themselves. A few minutes later Jim says "Where's the loo?"
Somebody says, "Oh, it's upstairs." Jim says, "Fuck the loo"
or something, goes into the space outside, in front of this
unbelievable white screen, turns round and pisses against
the glass, with about a hundred people who could look
nowhere else. Like on a cinema screen.'
This story is endlessly retailed. It is the best known of
the many stories about Jim. All the versions are a little
different, not surprisingly, as everyone was well stocked up
with drink when it occurred. It has been improved on -- it
seems likely, for instance, that the people at the other end
of the room remained unaware -- but it happened. Rudolph
hated to talk about it. Other people have different theories
about why Jim did it: Rudolph had flayed Jim at a crit, as
was sometimes his way with critics as well as students, and
this was Jim's way of getting back at him; it was a 'sod
you' gesture against the Yale establishment; it was just
because Jim was drunk and happy. Perhaps it was a bit of all
three, perhaps mostly the last. Explanations vary, but the
basic image remains: Jim, with a big grin on his face,
peeing against the glass.
Mark Girouard, Big Jim: The Life and Work of James Stirling
(London: Chatto & Windus, 1998), pp. 124-5.
In the future, everyone will piss for 15 minutes.
the posthumous Duchamp
--
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down the stretcher, rolled the canvas, and transported both
to Peggy's apartment building on East Sixty-first Street.
When he reassembled it in the low, ground-floor elevator
lobby, however, he discovered it was too long-by almost a
foot. Sleepless, distraught, and close to panic, he
telephoned Peggy at the gallery. "He became quite
hysterical," Peggy recalled. That was before he began to
drink. Knowing that Jackson would be in her apartment that
day, and "knowing his great weakness," Peggy had hidden her
liquor before leaving for the gallery. But Jackson soon
found it. His calls became more and more frantic. He pleaded
with her to "come home at once and help place the painting."
Finally, she called Marcel Duchamp and David Hare and
persuaded them to rescue Jackson. "Peggy wanted us to tack
it up," Hare recalled, "but it missed by eight inches so we
cut eight inches off from one end. Duchamp said that in this
type of painting it wasn't needed. We told Jackson, who
didn't care." By then, Jackson was too drunk to care.
Weaving and incoherent, he walked into the apartment where
Connolly's party was already under way, crossed the room,
unzipped his pants, and peed in the marble fireplace.
The demons were loose again
Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith, Jackson Pollack: An
American Saga (New York: Harper Perennial, 1991) pp. 468-9.
Between studies there were a good few parties at Yale:
parties in the Rogerses' house when their old lady was away
in Florida; parties in Eldred's attic, parties given by
other students, and above all a big party given by Paul
Rudolph for Jim, which has become legendary. Richard Rogers
vividly remembers the crucial episode at it: 'He had this
amazing modern, real extreme modern, slightly Hollywood
apartment, with steps coming in at the higher level, marble
steps cantilevered off the wall. At the end there was a
double-height wall of glass, and outside this there was
probably seven foot of open space before a big white wall.
The wall had a great light on it so you looked at it as
though it was the screen of a cinema, and the light
reflected back into the room -- absolutely white. And
everybody else was there. There was a piano, and let's say a
hundred people. An hour later, still no Jim. No Eldred. Door
opens up at high level, there's a commotion, yells and
giggles and so on, and then suddenly there come Eldred and
Jim, down these cantilevered slightly marbly steps, giggling
because they're canned, literally just rolling down these
goddamn steps, drunk. It was a great entry. Paralytic. And
like a lot of these paralytic situations, they didn't hurt
themselves. A few minutes later Jim says "Where's the loo?"
Somebody says, "Oh, it's upstairs." Jim says, "Fuck the loo"
or something, goes into the space outside, in front of this
unbelievable white screen, turns round and pisses against
the glass, with about a hundred people who could look
nowhere else. Like on a cinema screen.'
This story is endlessly retailed. It is the best known of
the many stories about Jim. All the versions are a little
different, not surprisingly, as everyone was well stocked up
with drink when it occurred. It has been improved on -- it
seems likely, for instance, that the people at the other end
of the room remained unaware -- but it happened. Rudolph
hated to talk about it. Other people have different theories
about why Jim did it: Rudolph had flayed Jim at a crit, as
was sometimes his way with critics as well as students, and
this was Jim's way of getting back at him; it was a 'sod
you' gesture against the Yale establishment; it was just
because Jim was drunk and happy. Perhaps it was a bit of all
three, perhaps mostly the last. Explanations vary, but the
basic image remains: Jim, with a big grin on his face,
peeing against the glass.
Mark Girouard, Big Jim: The Life and Work of James Stirling
(London: Chatto & Windus, 1998), pp. 124-5.
In the future, everyone will piss for 15 minutes.
the posthumous Duchamp
--
The Design-L list for art and architecture, since 1992...
To subscribe, send mailto:design-l-subscribe-request@xxxxxxxxxxxxx.
To signoff, send mailto:design-l-unsubscribe-request@xxxxxxxxxxxxx.
Visit archives: http://lists.psu.edu/archives/design-l.html