Not much is known about the Impressionist school of American postcard photography. The name itself is a latter-day coinage–we don’t know whether any of those artists of the Great Plains had ever been exposed to French painters other than maybe Bouguereau. For that matter, did they even know one another? It is entirely possible that … Read more
Maybe someone can tell me the proper Greek-derived word, by analogy with “philately,” for the collecting of rejection slips. As you can see, there are some rare ones here–half of these publications no longer exist, and the other two have changed almost beyond recognition from what they were then. The collection, … Read more
About ten years ago I found myself in a large antique store in Berea, Kentucky. As readers of this blog might suppose, I’m a veteran ragpicker, but antiques tend to leave me frosty. I made my way through three floors of the usual glass, china, old toys, rugs, without much interest and without seeing much … Read more
This is a drink ticket. It was currency at one time–actually it was better than the greenback equivalent, because it contained added value in the form of prestige. A drink was a drink, but a drink ticket was a badge of rank. If you wanted to impress a potential pickup, buying them a drink with … Read more
It seems that many, many people collect snapshots. As far as I’m aware, the first book on the subject came out around 1976, but the idea has mushroomed in the last decade, a result of both increasing interest in amateur expression and the refinement of scanning technology. There are now hundreds of such books, and … Read more
1. The story I heard, which may be apocryphal, is that when Max Baer Sr., the boxer and father of Jethro, suffered a heart attack in a hotel, one of his entourage called out, “Send for the house doctor!” Baer, agonizing, managed to cough out, “I don’t need a house doctor–I need a people doctor!” … Read more
Collage was the dominant motif in twentieth-century art. Among other things it was a symbolic enactment of revolution: taking apart the detritus of the old order and refashioning the pieces into constituent elements of the new. When revolution still seemed like a promise–which was true to some degree as late as the making of this … Read more
This is my father as I never knew him, in jive-hepcat mode, sporting a Lester Young porkpie, Eisenhower jacket, skinny tie, sweater tucked in, high-water pants and white socks, and looking like he’s about to launch into a dance routine. (He always did identify with Gene Kelly.) The picture was taken not long after the … Read more
I saw P. T. Anderson’s There Will Be Blood last night, and can’t get it out of my head. This picture is roughly from the same time and milieu as its setting, although it sure ain’t southern California–the only Waggoner listed in the Geographic Nameserver at MIT is in Montgomery County, Illinois, but I’m guessing … Read more
The first time I met Jean-Michel Basquiat was in November or December 1978, at the Mudd Club. His hair was dyed orange and cut very short with a v-shaped widow’s peak in the front. He wore a lab coat and carried a briefcase. “Going on a trip?” I asked him. “Always,” he replied. He had … Read more