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SUMMER 2007, WM #4: Thomas Butter in discussion with Glenn Goldberg PART 1

SUMMER 2007, WM #4: Thomas Butter in discussion with Glenn Goldberg PART 1
Glenn Goldberg


TB-So you were talking about art being an obscure language…

GG-Right.

TB-And that people have taken pieces of it…and made that the whole thing…

GG-Yeah…my thought is that…I guess every artist has their ideas of what it is to be an artist. It isn’t just about trying to support yourself; hopefully you are reflecting on qualities that artists who you admire carry. Those qualities are why they became capable of making extraordinary things. They were the ingredients that went into what they did and who they were, and to me, it is a thick group of things… many, many things. Off the top of my head come the words sincerity, honesty, humility, belief that you can do it, talent, a form of intelligence, and on and on… empathy, the ability to be ruthless. Some things might sound contradictory, but in proper proportion I would call the whole set of ingredients-ideal. What has happened in recent history is that materialism has gotten into the game as a major aspiration. Since reward came into it as a much stronger force in the last few decades it’s no surprise that the nature of making art has become much more expedient and efficient. In order to make the work more agreeable to the shift in criteria, people focus on a certain sector (perhaps their favorite parts) of being an artist and eradicate unnecessary failure thus positing themselves as confident, knowing and lucid artists. That is quite appealing to our species. That’s what I mean by editing from the full menu of qualities so that other things can come into play. As always it’s simply a matter of priorities. I tend to be classical and try to include everything I can even it there’s a price to pay for that as opposed to editing.

TB- Price in the work...or price in the career, or both?

GG- Both. I came to need a lot of time by myself to re-search…years really. I never thought it would be that long. I have continued being a devoted artist without having a strong interest in participation, promotion or material reward. I was tired and somewhat disillusioned by several years of consistently showing. The rhythm changed and I couldn’t run with it. It was too fast and un-thorough for me. I left a very prestigious gallery because I felt the nature of the relationship had run it’s course. And I did not pursue another gallery before or after I left. I found myself dealing with less exposure and money, but it was worthwhile because I felt that I had developed in more important ways minus a certain kind of resistance/intrusion. I don’t mean that just the art developed , but I feel like I’ve developed. What’s more important than feeling like you’ve developed and being pleased with your decisions? We always question our choices, but I feel like dropping out was the right way for me to proceed. It was by instinct…it really wasn’t planned out.

TB-Can you think of other artists who have made this type of decision, or maybe people out in the world?

GG- I think a lot of artists in the 80’s have needed to pull back, though not everyone decides that; for some it is decided for them. Things happen because of certain decisions, actions, then reactions. I think the 80’s were interesting because we were coming off of an intellectual decade-the 70’s. Those were years when people were not making a lot of money. They were working for the respect of other artists… an intellectual community. The intellectual community continued on into the 80’s as materialism came flowing in. Having lived through the 60’s and 70’s and the combination of intellectuality and anti-establishment sentiment allowed that group of artists to be able to accept things quieting down, due to their values. Now it is different for young artists who grew up looking at art in, say, the 90’s…they’re born into a whole other mind-set. We are all products of the thinking of our time. They are groomed to believe that worldy/material success is a necessary part of being an artist. This does not make them insincere people. They simply have been formed by a different set of conditions than the artists that precede them.

TB-that they are born into…

GG-Yes, they are born into a time that is far more opposed to intellectuality and romanticism. It’s more pragmatic and reward driven…American values. We continue to be involved more and more with consuming and the need to acquire money in order to continue to consume. Worldly success has become extremely important. I think a lot of very good artists lost interest as that took root and didn’t want to mix commerce with art. Many wanted to get back in the studio and see what happens without the regimen of the one-person exhibitions, studio visits and normative career practices. Some people are okay with being quieter, being somewhat unseen…I don’t know how many people are okay with that being entirely isolated. I think that gets to be difficult when you are not showing at all and not selling at all- pressure builds up…its like a boiling pot that builds up contained energy . I think it’s important to release it.

TB-I know you a bit, and I would guess you would say that this context, this commercial context, this consumer context or the structure of being successful- that that would reflect in the work and well as the ambition and state of mind of the artist.

GG-Without question, yeah. That falls into that idea of editing out necessary ingredients in order to be seen as/feel like a confident artist. Experiments fail. Some will fail miserably. If an artist is somewhat experimental immediately you are going to have some failures, if they are reasonably experimental, the number of failures will increase. For people who don’t fully understand what it is to be that, it reads as confusion, lack of ability, etc The artist certainly becomes a risky person to get involved with in business because you don’t know what they are going to make. In truth, it’s reasonable for a business person to desire a product that is somewhat reliable and consistent. Fortunately there are a minority of art dealers , who are very hungry for art and are willing to go on a ride with their artists that is more dangerous. I think people like results, solutions, clarity and the appearance of confidence. If you want to participate in the business of art, it’s best that you clean up your act sooner than later. There is this horrible feeling that, “oh gee, the boat is pulling out – I’m old , I’m 22, and have nothing to show for myself.” This is still a very new phenomenon- to be showing while you are still in school. This is all very recent you know…its certainly lively- that’s a good thing… and there are certainly some special people making work who are very young which is kind of a cool thing as opposed to waiting for everyone to mature. But then there are also a lot of exchanges, you know- talent for art. Talent isn’t always that compelling. It’s sort of nice to see, but it doesn’t always sustain itself if there’s not something driving the talent.

TB-In the area of risk?

GG-In the area of risk, or in the area of individuality, focus, commitment, courage so you really dig into your work rather than it being somewhat externally driven and safe. I’m interested in that idea of how protective we are of ourselves and can we bear to try to be ourselves a little more- which often means don’t be so self-protective, its okay to be who you are. We all think we’re doing that all the time, but to me it’s a process. For me to become stronger and braver to be myself and be less concerned about how that might get seen or thought of…that is very difficult.

TB-What do you hope for your work, and what is assured?

GG-I hope for what I probably already have, which is that there are some people in the world who have seen my work who value it in the ways that I hope they would –as possessing certain qualities that they may not see as frequently as they would like. I feel satisfied in the fact that I have enough people who I respect who seem to think that what I do is special. And I am trying to make special (it’s a good word for me to use) and I am trying to make things that are special by trying to put myself into them as fully as possible – that’s the only way I know how to give to them. So its as much a matter of my heart and my eyes and my hands as it is my brain, my thoughts, my affiliations. Again, I’m trying to be comprehensive. What’s assured is that interest probably won’t fully disintegrate before I leave this planet. Although there has been attrition- people who just don’t see it or seek it out for whatever reasons. They’ve lost interest. As I’ve said I used to be out much more consistently…sometimes it is “out of sight, out of mind.” So while I attempt to be a champion at all times, an artist doesn’t need to be “wearing the belt.” I’m just always trying to be the best artist I can be, and it is fascinating how you can be up, down, can get rediscovered, or you may never get rediscovered. A lot of it is very mysterious as to what people really think of what we do. I feel like I have gotten enough support. It helps me work, so that I don’t feel like I am working in a vacuum. I do feel like even if people haven’t been seeing it, they are still a part of it. I don’t think that’s going to go away. Beyond that I’m not really certain. I don’t know what will happen to all my work when I pass away…those are very uncomfortable things to think about. Assuming my wife and I pass before my son… what will that be for him: will that be a burden, will that be a positive thing, how will he feel about managing it- there are a lot of questions in terms of the work and what is going to become of it. A lot of it is wide open in my mind because I think there is something that sits there that could expand, shrink, or stay the same. I don’t know how better to say it. I keep working, because working is living to me. 

TB-You have answered this question of hope and assurance in terms of the world, is it possible to answer it in terms of the work, in terms of the making?

GG-Yes. I feel fairly sure that I am always going to be trying to make an idea a work of art. I’m trying to be economical, get out of the way of it, facilitate something. It’s very complicated because I am the person, the complicated creature, who is making it, but I also want to get out of the way and facilitate something that I guess I would call this idea- that has to do with how things get made, what gets depicted, or not- what’s implied- the volume of it, what kind of empathy it encourages. I don’t want it to be too sloppy, but I certainly want the heart to have a big role in it. I am certain that it is very unlikely that focus would change. And the focus of trying to be economical, as if I could paint something like a master would, is still my fantasy…but most of the work tends to, even if it is simply an additive process, get into some degree of trouble. I fantasize about making a painting straight through, that is knowing and confident and clear and rich and giving and sophisticated- those are the words that come off the top of my head.

For me that’s very hard to do, because usually the work needs some kind of weight in it- what I am trying to do, is do it without weight- I’m trying to do it light, so that it could almost be missed. I’m interested in that- that maybe if I actually get it there, its more apt to be overlooked, as appearances. That interests me. Appearance-wise it could seem like I am involved in the talent realm, but that is not at all my aspiration. 

TB-It seems like one thing, but it is another.

GG-Exactly.

TB-And that “in between” is a place of freedom or power or…

GG-Just fact. Related to how we can never be fully seen, or more importantly, can never fully see ourselves. So the work of art… I want it to be light in weight. I’m not there fully but I feel like I touch upon it. I think mastery is light in its nature. In whatever form…

TB-It is something and it is not something- it seems to be something, but it is not something- its not that thing.

GG-Well you wouldn’t even know- you would have no idea what the person knows and has been through. I’m thinking of it outside of art…like right now I am going for some physical therapy, and I am going to a woman who is extremely knowing, but the first couple of times I saw her, I actually thought the opposite.

(laughter)

GG-I was a little worried that she was flakey- she didn’t say much, I wasn’t sure how confident she was.

TB-She wasn’t selling you?

GG-Truth of the matter was she is like Richard Feynmann-the physicist- who always talks about how- never can he afford to go into an experiment thinking he knows the results. He’s that smart. She’s that smart also. She has seen thousands of hands, she has focused on hands only, so I’ve realized she is extremely knowing, and not presumptuous. I think art can be the same thing- you can seem like an idiot. You are not necessarily “impressive”. Hopefully it’s not due to inexperience, its due to thorough experience; going on a ride where you have made lots of mistakes, felt lots of discomfort, felt inadequate, and went out into the world prematurely. It was all those things for me. I am trying to continue towards my goal and have it be fueled by heart and by being a human being, but in a sense, impersonal. How do I objectify emotions, the feelings. In a sense that is what we are doing- we are objectifying, we’re making objects, we’re making things that are supposed to be containers, that hold something. Some people need to think they are holding a great, great idea, while some people hold an idea that may not be so impressive but we believe it is a great one. It is very complicated. Ultimately the work of art lives despite it being inanimate. And what allows for it, I think is that kind of ability to continue gaining knowledge that always is unprovable, unseeable, often unimpressive. I think the best art is difficult, it has, without question, difficulty in it. I can’t really think of anything that is really superb that isn’t difficult.

TB-By difficult, does that mean-“ has contradictions”, does that mean the process of objectification is being resisted, how does difficulty manifest itself?

GG-I will give you a real simple answer- if it is difficult to get to it, then what is manifest through that (process) is difficult.

TB-As a viewer- it is difficult to get to it.

GG-No, for the artist. But we are talking only about certain individuals. It is difficult, but some people are better at it than others. It’s like you will do anything you can to try to make better art. That sounds like what every artist is doing. (laughter). But you know, like anything else, there are people who go to greater lengths, or have deeper demons, or deeper wealth of intimacy. There are so many paths. You’ve got to have to have a deep quantity of something that makes it difficult, makes it urgent, makes it somewhat illegible, somewhat unique. The more familiar we are with something the quicker we are to read the next thing that is like that. Then all of a sudden someone comes along and we are a little perplexed….maybe an interesting case is when it looks like someone resides with something, but you know there’s something “off” here. It gets more fascinating then, and that is what I mean by difficult. One color painting is an interesting area of art-sometimes there’s difficulty in those. And other times there’s someone who literally understands an aesthetic, a way of doing things. You roll on a color with this kind of material, and it is simply “materiality”. 

TB-It becomes technical.

GG-Yes, it becomes technical, and it has a physical resonance, and we say “Wow, you’re good! “ But we could also say “You’re good, but you are not very meaningful.” And then someone comes along and puts one color on a canvas , who knows, they might even be using the same materials, but what they do is radically different. And what it means is too. That is what I mean by “difficulty”. Even if it’s bliss- I’m not speaking of difficulty in terms of nuisance value. Even if it’s blissful- it’s difficult, maybe because of its demand, the inherent demand of it. 

TB-What it demands of you?

GG-Yes. What it demanded to make it, and what it demands of someone in order to experience it. So you think-“difficult”. And I’ll take difficult over physical success. I think, well….no, I don’t want to go into it.

TB-Go ahead. 

GG-Nah, I don’t want to.

TB-OK.

TB-This bears on that- what is the relation of truth and your work for you?

GG-Hmmm. I like the word truth, I try to always tell the truth. I do lie, I try to minimize it- now I am speaking of my life. I’m not comfortable when I lie. I feel that’s similar to my work. From the time I started to do art, I felt like I just wanted to give myself to it, in a sincere and honest way, and not qualify it. That’s been my attempt.

And I think that would get the best results. So in terms of truth, that’s my version of what it is to be truthful- to simultaneously reveal my assets and my liabilities. And some of that in terms of how we get trained, and our values, gets flopped around. So for example, it’s truthful of me to do things that someone could call decorative, or pattern, or pretty, right? But if I want to apply those words to it or not- doesn’t even matter. If I am being truthful, those things can appear in my work. Because it is a need. To me I would be betraying myself if I repressed that. It gets back to what we were talking about before: the artistic need comes first. I’m trying to be very honest about my artistic need. After that it gets messy. I want it to be messy, and not feel like I have to subscribe to a particular a priori genre of painting, whether it be abstract painting, figurative painting, mandala painting, flower painting. I subscribe to none of those, and use all of those as I see fit. That to me is a matter of being truthful to my own complexity.

TB-That reminds me of a lecture of yours I saw where you were coming out, or still a student at the NY Studio School, and you showed some pictures of small objects placed on a large field. I think it might have been a pencil and an eraser. You talked then about being in a particular context at that school which was well respected at that time in the NY art world. It struck me as sincere and honest at that moment those were the things you wanted to paint. Does this fit into what you were just saying- in terms of sincerity, difficulty, truth?

GG-Yes instinct also. I listened closely to what the people at the Studio School said, because they were all people who I felt were good examples of artists. There were a lot of baroque and complicated setups that were going on at the school. For me it was simple. Without disrespecting that as a viable path, to me it seemed like that wasn’t the best way to proceed. I needed to learn more about painting. I was trying to learn the rudiments of painting. What happens when you put a color next to another color? Or how do I make space, and light and form without using chiaroscuro? It was about the picture plane, post Hoffman, Cezanne, Giacometti teachings- frontality, how do we make space from front to back, or back to front- not in the round, or in a circular baroque manner. So to me, I didn’t understand why someone would be talking about the picture plane, and then complicating it through a baroque set-up.

I decided the best way for me to do this was to break it down to its simple fundamentals- have a few objects sitting on a plane, and go to town- and try to teach myself how to see and how to build structure. To start out with a structure that complicated for me was going to be nothing but utter failure and frustration.

I need to feel some degree of progress, if I am putting myself fully into something. It is tough to just keep going at the beginning. An aspect of pragmatism was necessary.

TB-What I saw of what you are describing was an interpretation of their interests through your own intelligence and integrity. But what I saw in the pictures was a tremendous amount of tenderness and care. And with that came a lot of emotion. 

GG-That makes sense, that is really what I am after, so that was there. I was, as a student, just focusing on-“gee, there’s things to know about paint.” I’m going to work hard to experience them. But you are exactly right, I think that painting was kind of intimate and had some metaphysical properties and it wasn’t just about trying to make a bowl- there was more to it. But I had my hands full, I wasn’t thinking about it. But I was already on a path, this I think is true.

TB-I like that.

TB-Two kinds of artists: those who work with language, those who work with form. Thoughts? (Maybe you don’t agree with the premise, I’m just throwing it out.)

GG-You mean keeping them separate? I guess I’d say language helps in making the form. Then we get to experience the form and then that can produce some more language. That’s the way it goes for me. I’m not….if I understand some of the implications of your questions, I’m certainly not interested in filling a void up with language. There are things to be said, but I would try to err on the side, of, once again, trying to be economical and less than verbose. I don’t want words to take the place of mystery, awe or form. And I think great form requires what I call “physical intellect.” I believe in something which I think of as the physical intellect. It is just as vast and infinite as an intellect that could be displayed through words or findings…

TB-How is that intellect developed?

GG-Through hours and hours and hours of touching things, looking at things, making things, and allowing your brain participate too. It’s not a linear skill set: you take the unique person which all of us are ,and that unique person spends a lot of time in a focused area doing certain things- some of which are done over and over again, some of which vary. But when you come in contact with the things that person might do or make, hopefully it indicates that the intelligence has advanced as proven by the form. But again you have got to factor in the ability to read it, and the ability for the artist to not be running in place, be scared, be uncomfortable with their inadequacies. It’s a tall order for the artist, and then a tall order for the viewer who would have to go through something comparable. For example, let’s take a surgeon who’s not mindless, not doing the same surgery over and over, one who is really interested in the field, someone who is at the top, one whom people call when they see things that they have never seen before. That is interesting. Say I’m a surgeon and I come across something I have never seen before- “What will I do?” Do I continue, or do I need to call someone else in? The person I would call in has much experience in paying attention, and probably some genetic gifts. But I am sure they have done many, many operations. They are capable of entertaining a problem like that. That is the ideal, that is the ideal artist, too. Sure they can build things and make things and do a great job with form. They know things: how to put paint down, how to build, how to shoot photographs. But above and beyond that skill and talent, they have an intelligence about it- when to use it, how to use it, when it is too much, when it is not enough. It’s that constant desire for artistic precision that requires the physical intellect. Because, as we know, these things are being brought into the world in a physical mode, often without words attached to them. Most art gets experienced without words: either written, or spoken. So therefore it certainly pressurizes the physical, despite people’s desire to wiggle out of that one. There’s a lot of wiggling going on. It is an epidemic, it’s like a wiggle epidemic. (laughter).

TB-I like the idea that in the final outcome, it is the object that produces language, or makes it necessary to invent language around the object.

GG-Exactly, right. From language to art, back to language. 

TB-Do you have a favorite place to go in the Met?

GG-I tend to go to the Coptic textiles, always Chinese ceramics, the Japanese Garden. Those are my favorite places. I don’t look at paintings that much. I probably look at paintings less than “things”. Screens, or plates, armor. I like armor- I love the form of armor. I’m drawn, not solely of course, to symmetry, I find a lot of symmetry very pleasing in a deep way. I think symmetry has gotten a lot of bad press . We don’t want to really deal with that…The decorative arts is an area that I have always been interested in. I’m drawn to those sections in the museum. 

TB-The question of symmetry brings up another question for me. Comment on the depiction of the natural world in your work.

GG- My job isn’t to copy nature, or try to battle with it. I am trying to pay homage to it. The order of things I’ll call it, so I’m trying to make things that are ordered and balanced- that’s another word that is important to use. Balance is a form of symmetry, that is the way I would say it. And balance requires sometimes the appearance of things being static or graphic. I think things can appear to be static and graphic, and be very much in motion. That’s part of my interest in both questions- symmetry and balance. Things often will stand upright, and are placed as if they were stopped, but hopefully the paintings function as verbs, even though at their most extreme they are close to symmetry. They are never symmetrical, but some might appear to be symmetrical or close to it. But I am still hoping that doesn’t create a noun, that it’s a verb. 

TB-Talking about nouns and verbs- it feels like you are leading nature…and I wonder if my question involves a misinterpretation- maybe there is less nature in your work than I think. Is that possible?

GG-It’s possible, yeah. What I have found is that I have been able to incorporate and use nature more over the years. Back to my roots…but in a whole different way. Some (paintings) are very much about a landscape that is imaginary: they’re very straightforward. A lot of them are about that. Others are about a handful of players, who I then put into a scene. That’s fabrication, but they are imbued in such a way that would make someone feel natural.

TB-They’re in imbued in such a way that it would feel like nature, but they are characters?   
GG-Characters that feel natural is the way I would put it.

TB-That’s interesting.

GG-They are characters that are stand-ins for what is. Like a play. They are thematic at times, at other times they are just another experiment inside the same parameters I like to live. Sometimes there is nothing new per se, but there is a specific new condition that fuels the same kind of role, the same elements, the same spirit. But through doing that, inevitably, a more radical change occurs. By committing to what I am in the middle of , I know it is going to get me somewhere else. I trust that, and look forward to when that happens. I am always working towards something. Now I am starting again with a couple of paintings which are about that fantasy of “Gee maybe I can paint a painting pretty straight through that’s light”-it’s more about being around it, than painting on it, I don’t know, 10 or 12 times, it’s over. I’m trying to start with that idea, and then it goes through what it goes through.

GG-I feel like I’m not answering your questions… I am meandering off.

TB-No, you are. I feel like it is great to get from you the idea that these don’t have a whole lot to do with nature. That is very important to me. I am also feeling like it is hard to talk about what they are about. Not that you are doing a bad job of it. But the fact is that if they are characters that are put into particular situations, it seems very existential, in the sense that there’s a “what if, as if” part to this. The work is speculative than it might first appear. Because you could describe them as declarative on a physical level. But the speculation you are talking about- the work certainly holds that.

GG-And that would be an existential component?

TB-Right.

GG-And existentialists as a rule, were they practical people? Or were they overly romantic?

TB-I think they just said you were responsible, and that is was very hard to be responsible. What ever you were doing, you had to take full responsibility for it. I don’t think they were advocating a position, as much as they were describing the problems of living. It came out of the situation in Europe post -WWI and pre-WWII, which was pretty polarized. Most of the time we don’t see how responsible we are. One of the undercurrents of what we are talking about it seems to e is that you feel very, very responsible for what you are doing, you are giving yourself the charge of being fully responsible.

GG-Yes, I would agree with that. I choose not to share it.

TB-Not to share it, right, you want full responsibility .

GG-I choose to take that. What I know, I know, what I can answer I can answer- and what I am not interested in, I’m not. I take responsibility for my choices, and for the fact that I’m doing this, instead of that. 

TB-That is part of your method, but it also seems part of what the work means.

GG-Hmm.

TB-The way you are describing characters, being inserted into situations seems like part of that.

GG-Yes, exactly. They are riddled with imminent demise, bliss, hovering “ in between”. Which may not be so readily accessible, when people look at these. Energy, enhancers or enlivening elements, things like that. Yeah. Goofiness ,awkwardness, they embody what we do. The same. I want it to be of the same stuff, because to me that is the most compelling.

TB-How did growing up in the Bronx form you?

GG-It was simple- there were no real big challenges- school-wise, or socially. It made me probably believe there was something more. I knew I needed to leave the neighborhood. It was a kind of modest, no frills youth- it provided for the potential of a lot of growth and opportunity, although it didn’t inspire it. It kind of came late, when I started to travel, and I left college and I realized- “wow, there’s a lot out there”, and maybe I could do something. I saw things I had never seen. I grew up in the Bronx, and hung out on the corner, played sports, had a girlfriend. We didn’t leave, we weren’t going down to Manhattan to hear the opera, or see the art, or even go and hear the music much. It was pretty local. I remember my friend Bobby Jenkins got a red Camaro. That was big news: not only did someone have a car ,but he got a cool car.

TB-It was red!

GG-It was red and he pulled it right up to the park where we all used to hang out and play ball, and I remember everyone swarming around the car and all of a sudden people were going for rides…that was the neighborhood I grew up in. That was big news, rather than visiting the DaVinci show in town. It suited me, or it formed me- one or the other or both. I was fine with it. Schools were public, and the majority was Puerto Rican and black, maybe 35-40% white- that was interesting to go through. To play ball with kids, (even though we were all from the Bronx, we were from different neighborhoods) and navigate through that… Those were things that helped me to not be presumptuous about people in terms of their status or their place in the world. And becoming an artist and seeing affluence and seeing much higher levels of education, having some success as an artist- traveling, etc. I am happy that I have been able to swing through the gamut as I have. Some people lead more localized lives from beginning to end, without actually ever living differently. So I was one of those who was born one way, then was able to move out of it. For me, that’s a good combination. It is part of the reason I want my son to experience things outside of our neighborhood and outside of his school so he also can get a wider understanding of what actually goes on. Not just what’s said and what’s seen in the paper and on TV, but to have contact with people so that he won’t come to them with presumptions of who they are. If you can leave room for something, that’s good. Coming from somewhat simple-minded modest beginnings, there were some inspiring people in the midst. Inspiring school teachers, still today who are trying to teach the kids, against the odds. They are tough on them, they just want you to do good, they tell you that you can be someone. That is some of my Bronx history- it was solid, but it wasn’t glamorous. Solid. My mother and grandmother basically raised me, that was solid. Raised by women. My mom was very smart, but an underachiever, because she had to go out and work because her dad was ill, and subsequently died. That was always interesting that she got a scholarship to Cornell, but didn’t go because she had to work for the family.

TB-As a kid, did you sense her potential, having direct contact with it?

GG-Yeah, I knew that she made a huge sacrifice. Her potential always remained unrealized. In short, I had a very smart mom, and that was good, I saw the possibility to be smart with her as the example.

CONTINUED HERE: http://whitehotmagazine.com/whitehot_articles.cfm?id=623

 

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Thomas Butter

                                       
Thomas Butter has been living in NYC since 1977, and showing since 1981. He is currently on the Adjunct Faculty in the Fine Arts Department at Parsons the New School for Design, and has taught at many colleges and universities on the east coast, including RISD, Harvard, Yale, Tyler, MICA, University of the Arts, and many others.  
thom.butter@gmail.com website: www.tombutter.com

 

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