I was, and still am, so out of touch with news that I didn't know till yesterday that Bruce Conner had died three weeks ago. Only 74- that seems so young to me now although when my mother died at 72 it didn't seem unreasonably young...
I saw "Gonzo," the movie about Hunter Thompson a couple of weeks ago at the campus movie theater. I thought it was great, and in my mind his life is a little connected to Bruce Conner and all those crazy "beatniks." But Conner's work on paper was so beautiful and spiritual- it revealed something in him that was not self-mocking or nihilistic at all. Anyone familiar with his work and mine would see the influence. He himself claimed some 3000 plus artists who influenced him. But I would stare at those pages of tiny blots in wonder and amazement. I saw a show of them quite recently, and he is in the Carnegie International even now with his "angel" series of photograms.
I saw Dennis Hopper at MoMA last year, being escorted through the galleries. I feel like that generation is disappearing. Ride easy, Bruce and Hunter.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
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