I never became a regular at any of the nightclubs in New York City, but I did try to go to as many as I could at least once; in terms of the decor, Area in Tribeca, was the most memorable. I'll never forget the animal theme night which included the display of a caged owl. An outraged Audrey filed a complaint with the ASPCA but contemporary artists treated Area like a boy's club. Look no further than this 1982 invitation for evidence. What an assemblage of established and emerging mostly male talent!
The fact that both Basquiat and Keith Haring died young--neither lived past the age of 31--has greatly increased their marketability. They were firing on all cylinders when they created these untitled works.
. . . and he took this sweet Polaroid of Haring with his DJ boyfriend, Juan Dubose. They met at the New St. Mark's Baths before the New York City Department of Health closed it down to prevent the spread of HIV, which killed both men.
I paid less attention to the work of their contemporaries whose reputations I would venture to say haven't fared as well, although each remains alive and well.
This sensual portrait by Clemente introduced me to an unfamiliar, biracial scenester from Far Rockway who gave up dentistry to walk the runway for Wilhelmina before becoming a graffiti artist.
Rammellzee (1982-87)
Rammellzee is credited with melding hip hop culture with the avant garde. Now that's what I call an artistic journey.
Interior designer Peter Marino's redo of Tiffany's flagship store on Fifth Avenue impressed me when I visited at Christmas, so I was intrigued to see an exhibit of his art collection on the ninth floor.
Not that I was above horning in on the action. And truth be told, if it weren't for Marino's black leather branding, I probably wouldn't have been nearly as curious.
Peter Marino by Michelangelo Pistoletto (2023)
Much of the second-rate collection appears to have been purchased recently, perhaps with the money he earned from the commission. I'm guessing a guarantee of exhibit space must have been part of the contract negotiation.
Luxury retail outlets give me a severe case of imposter syndrome. Uncharacteristically, in recent years I've bought three baby gifts from the store, including one of the Steiff elephants flanking the middle shelf. It's hard to believe how much the Tiffany's branding increases the cost.
This would have been more up my alley as a kid. I still have a thing for seahorses.
Look up at the ceiling in the cafe and you'll see dozens of gift boxes hanging by ribbons.
Here's what I would do if I were Alex Katz (he's 95, just a year older than Andy would have been had he survived this long): I'd get a wheelchair and take an elevator to the top of the Guggenheim Museum.
And then I'd roll down the spiraled gallery, taking in my life's work (it's hung chronologically with his earliest work at the bottom) and screaming "Wheeeeee!"
