Love Memoir

A-M-A-Z-I-N-G

We are in a very tentative place as a world right now. More so than normal and in more ways than normal. The bright spot seems to be the general economy as reflected in the fiscal numbers ranging from growth to inflation to unemployment, not to mention the daily record-setting in the stock market. I don’t mean to understate or ignore that entire piece of good news, but what we all understand these days is that things can turn on dime in economic terms and many external events can hollow out those gains in a nanosecond. As it is, two thirds or more of the population of the country are not so convinced that the economy is that great. I and others like me feel this is a psychological condition brought on by a combination of tons of misinformation and outright lying by the political forces of the Right, but also because of the cumulative effect of a rather turbulent two decades where everything is moving faster and faster and getting more and more complicated… too complicated for the average American to understand. The combination of the two forces have left a lot of displeased people with a less than positive outlook about the future.

Normally, when times seem uncertain and when inflation is a particular concern, real assets tend to do much better and lots of investors put their money into anything they can touch and feel rather than financial assets like stocks and bonds. But the technicals of the investment markets are not really causing that to happen right now, probably because there is more money to invest than those hard assets can easily absorb and things like real estate (at least residential real estate) are already very sky high in price. One market that has taken it in the neck lately has been the art market. There is talk of the big auction houses like Sotheby’s and Christies scaling back and maybe even going bust since they cannot sell their artworks at the ever higher prices that they have enjoyed in the past. I don’t pretend to understand the creative markets very well. I know my investment prowess in movies is nonexistent. My writing has never cracked through commercially and figured out how to sell itself (despite good critical reviews). Through Kim, I have gotten a window on a portion of the performing arts world and all I can say is that the outcomes seem more random than not. I would never pretend to understand what makes a commercially great movie or performer, even though I have good strong opinions on what I like. I have a touch better sense with the written word, but even there I sense that lightning has to strike to gain any measure of meaningful commercial success. And as for fine art, I haven’t a clue except that you have a better chance of success if you let something get very old and hope it gets appreciated over time.

As I see young people coming forward into the world, ranging from my own children to other family members, I have seen a great deal of interest in creative expression ranging from painting to sculpture to photography to video/film to writing and performing. All of it is valid and worthwhile as a form of the development of people’s souls and there is certainly good things to say about having dreams of commercial success. I try not to pour cold water on anyone’s creative dreams, but I do try to suggest that people need to do what they love doing and use these creative outlets to express themselves, but they best be warned that it is a slow and very hard slog to make a commercial success of whatever it is they are doing.

I once sat next to the mother of a Broadway understudy ingenue who was called on to perform that night in a major role in a major play. I made the usual comments about how great it was to get such a break and how hard she must have worked against such long odds. The woman surprised me by disagreeing with almost everything I said. She thought making it on Broadway was just like any other job that you needed to put in the work and you would get the rewards accordingly. I thought I misunderstood her for a moment. Was she saying that her daughter was neither all that special or all that fortunate to have had the ball bounce the right way for her? Yes, that is exactly what she was saying. She thought success on Broadway was just like any other career success. Plain and simple. No big deal. Nothing to fawn over. Nothing special. That disagreed with everything I had ever heard or seen from Kim or any of the vast numbers of performers I have met through her, some of whom have had modestly good success and some who kept swinging and missing time after time. Not one of them felt that it was a case of just keeping your head down and working hard enough and you will inevitably get there…at least not in this lifetime.

About eight years ago, while living in Staten Island (of all places), our neighbors were Gary & Oswaldo, who are still among our best friends (we are heading off soon for a roadtrip to Oregon with them). Oswaldo loves to cook and invited Kim and me over for dinner to meet Gary’s grand-nephew Louis, who was moving up to New York City from the Baltimore area. Louis was 22 years old and had decided that he wanted to be an artist. And by artist, I mean a guy who mixes paints and puts them on canvas…in other words, the traditional concept of an artist. We thought that was nice that a young man had dreams of being an artist, and he certainly was a very nice young man. But Louis did not seem like anyone all that different of special compared to any other 20-something folks that we knew through our children and family. He was just another guy, one who happened to be gay, like his great uncle Gary, who wanted to live in a place where there were like-minded people and where he might be able to try his hand at painting.

Like any young person launching forth into a creative effort like this, Louis had to start with the usual survival jobs to make rent and then find the time for his art as he could. His early efforts had a decidedly gay orientation (at least to my heterosexual eyes) and I figured that might give him a slight edge since the market for gay artists selling into the gay community seemed like a solid channel. Louis made contacts in the art world, probably by simply meeting people and knocking on doors. From what I know, since he didn’t come from money or have strong money connections, I assume his path was like every other starving young artist. Soon I started hearing tales from Gary that things were progressing nicely for Louis and he had found a friendly reception in some small measure for his work. He was actually selling a few pieces to supplement his survival income. I thought to myself, “isn’t that nice, he’s found some friendly people who are supporting his work.”

Let me cut to the chase now, In the past eight years, Louis had literally blown up the art market (and I mean in general, not just the gay art market). I was just sent an article about him in the Financial Times that describes his work as comparable to Picasso and Bonnard in both composition and originality. His shows are all sell-outs and the aftermarket for his works must be keeping Sotheby’s and Christies out of bankruptcy as his pieces quickly approach $1 million in value and more. Louis owns a townhouse in Brooklyn and his studio has what he describes as fifteen major pieces on the go at any time the spirit moves him. The critics quoted in the FT went so far as to say that his painting is like the writings of Whitman or Virginia Woolf in it reflective and diaristic quality. Wow.

When I told this story to Natasha, our Hungarian dog-sitter, she said that it was uplifting and brought joy to her heart to know that in these troubled times there are still great stories of success like this out there to give us all hope. All I could say to Gary this morning was….A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

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