This collection of letters (1915-1917, 1950-1968) is a fascinating revelation of Georgia O'Keeffe before she became Stieglitz's protegee, a successfulThis collection of letters (1915-1917, 1950-1968) is a fascinating revelation of Georgia O'Keeffe before she became Stieglitz's protegee, a successful artist, and (finally) a legend. Anita Pollitzer was the door through which O'Keeffe passed to all her later selves: Anita introduced her drawings to Stieglitz, opening the "ambitious, hungry, and impatient" O'Keeffe to everything else that happened to her.
"I want everything and I want it now," O'Keeffe wrote to her friend. Among the things she wanted during the early part of this correspondence was Arthur Macmahon. The letters reveal Georgia's capacity for emotional obsession and her use of art (she was working in charcoal) as a retreat from threatening emotional turbulence. Anita is both a sounding board and a canvas upon which O'Keeffe expresses, explores, and develops feelings she might otherwise have repressed. Their friendship is a sanctuary in a tumultuous period of O'Keeffe's life.
But as Benita Eisler writes in the must-read introduction to the collection, "fame was the most effective solvent" of this early friendship. After O'Keeffe invested her emotional commitments to Stieglitz, Anita was moved to the periphery of the artist's life. Still later, when Anita sent her the manuscript of the O'Keeffe biography she had written (with GOK's permission), O'Keeffe rejected it and threatened to sue. As Eisler's writes, the woman who appeared in Anita's fondly remembered and romanticized portrait was a "stranger to the Empress of Abiquiu," the austere iconographic legend into which she had transformed herself. The O'Keeffe of the later years is nothing like the eager young woman--daring, hopeful, brave, and deeply responsive to people and events--revealed in these letters. For that very reason, they are a treasure. ...more
In 1974-75, John Poling helped Georgia O'Keeffe (blinded by macular degeneration) create three paintings, two of which were later valued at over $200,In 1974-75, John Poling helped Georgia O'Keeffe (blinded by macular degeneration) create three paintings, two of which were later valued at over $200,000 each. When the painting were shown as O'Keeffe's sole work, Poling tried to get her to acknowledge his assistance. She and her agent, Juan Hamilton, refused. Believing that collectors and art critics should be informed about the collaborative nature of the artist's later work, Poling went to the media. When O'Keeffe was confronted and forced to acknowledge that she had help, she dismissed him as nothing more significant than a "palette knife."
Written some fifteen years after Poling's encounter with the artist, Painting with O'Keeffe is the story of his months with O'Keeffe at Ghost Ranch and in Abiquiu. It is a brave little book, because it tells a story that the artist and her associates didn't want told--and because Poling, by going public, had to risk the accusation that he sought recognition for personal gain. It also (and disturbingly) reveals a side of the art business that the art community itself prefers not to be told: witness the reviewers who panned it for reasons that have less to do with the book itself and more to do with concern for O'Keeffe's reputation.
But Painting with O'Keeffe is not just brave, it is beautiful, in many complex ways. It is the story of a young man in search of direction, an old woman anxious to continue working as an artist, and another young man fearful of being supplanted by a rival. It is about a remarkable place and its hold on the artistic imagination, and about an artist's process. (The chapter on painting gives us a fascinating glimpse into O'Keeffe's meticulous work at the canvas and her efforts to continue it in defiance of her blindness.) The book is also tender and compassionate, for Poling never blames, he only reveals: himself as naive and impressionable, O'Keeffe as urgently searching, Hamilton as sadly needy.
A number of books have been written by people who worked for O'Keeffe in her later years. Of them all, Poling's is the most deeply felt, the most personal, and the most revealing. If you want to know what she was like in her later years, this is the book you must read....more
Carol Merrill was a graduate student at the University of New Mexico in November, 1972, when she wrote an admiring letter to Georgia O'Keeffe. To herCarol Merrill was a graduate student at the University of New Mexico in November, 1972, when she wrote an admiring letter to Georgia O'Keeffe. To her astonishment, the young poet received not only a reply but an invitation to visit. It took months to screw up her courage, but in August, 1973 she finally walked through O'Keeffe's gate. Merrill was 26; O'Keeffe was 85.
It was the beginning of seven years of on-off weekends and short stays with O'Keeffe, as a library assistant, household helper, companion, and sometime cook. Throughout the period (1973-1979), Merrill kept a journal both on tape and in her notebook. The journal is remarkable for its immaculate attention to details of O'Keeffe's person and personality, the settings (interiors and exteriors) of home and studio and the surrounding desert-and-canyon landscape, and the daily household activities. Because the journal was kept over an extended period, we can also see the changes in Merrill's relationship to O'Keeffe, from hero-worship to nuanced perceptions of the aging artist's human frailties, as well as her place in O'Keeffe's evolving household, increasingly dominated by a young sculptor named Juan Hamilton. He appears early in the journal and becomes an omnipresent and somewhat ominous figure.
But while a great deal of controversy swirled around the artist in those days, and particularly about her relationship to Hamilton, Merrill sets all that aside: "Tactful reserve is my motto," she says. She focuses her observations on O'Keeffe, not as an artist but as a frail older woman. Her journal entries include descriptions of O'Keeffe's clothing ("a black scarf pulled back like an Arab or a nun with a shawl over a short black silk kimono and fragile bluish-white blouse"), the house ("There is a tan comforter for a white bed, a tan telephone, white stool, and a brown and black fireplace carved in mud in the corner...White curtains cover an east wall full of windows."), and O'Keeffe's reminiscences about the past, her husband Alfred Stieglitz, and the many artists she had known.
Most striking, perhaps, is Merrill's frequent attention to the details of food. Breakfast: "Scrambled eggs, mushrooms, fresh radishes, orange juice, jasmine tea, muffins, whole wheat bread, butter, and honey." Snacks: "A feast of salted dry roasted peanuts, Norwegian goat cheese that tasted like caramel, and tart apples." Dinner: "Cottage cheese, onions and oranges and sesame seeds on lettuce. There was cheese, wheat bread, gingerbread, and raspberries, delicious without sugar." For Merrill, food—like clothing, furnishings, and surroundings—is an expression of O'Keeffe's essential creativity, which is exhibited not just in her work but in all that she is and does. Through all of Merrill's descriptions runs the thread of the poet's admiration for the artist: "Her way of life is art embodied. I enter her art by moving through shared space on weekends."
The style of the journal entries evolves over time in interesting ways. In the beginning, it is often stilted and awkwardly self-conscious but becomes increasingly fluid and lyrical as time goes on. And while Merrill occasionally worries that her note-taking is a betrayal of confidence ("I greedily put down every shred of experience I can remember of her and the house"), she continues to journal until the last day she sees O'Keeffe, in 1979. Over the next two decades, clearly considering the possibility of publishing her writing, Merrill annotates some of the entries with additional recollections, and in the published journal, inserts her own poems at the beginnings of chapters. In an afterward, written in 2009, she confesses that the end of her relationship with O'Keeffe came at just the right time. She was "losing herself" under the artist's influence, she says, and needed to become more completely her own woman.
This is a book that deserves to be read for the insights it offers into the daily life of the complex and gifted O'Keeffe; for the love (I am tempted to write "adoration") that the artist inspired in those around her; and for the evolving and increasingly mature perceptions of the young poet who recorded her observations with such a sustained and clear-eyed focus.
"She taught me to look, really look at things," Merrill says, reminding me of something that O'Keeffe herself wrote, about the hugeness of her flower paintings: "Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven't time, and to see takes time..." Merrill took the time to see and record the small things, the intimate details of an artist's daily life. And for that, we can only be grateful. (Originally published in StoryCircleBookReviews: http://www.storycirclebookreviews.org...)...more
In the mid-1940s, when O'Keeffe was settling into her Abiquiu home, the garden was one of her enduring passions--in fact, it was one of chief reasonsIn the mid-1940s, when O'Keeffe was settling into her Abiquiu home, the garden was one of her enduring passions--in fact, it was one of chief reasons she wanted a house in that village. Her friend Maria Chabot had already put a great deal of work into renovating the long-abandoned garden within the adobe compound and restoring the acequia (the irrigation system). The garden is a major topic of their letters when O'Keeffe was in New York and Chabot was working on the Abiquiu house.
For the next four decades, O'Keeffe continued the garden, with the help of a local gardener. The vegetables, fruit, and herbs produced in that garden, along with whole grains and locally produced dairy, eggs, and meat, made up her diet. In this, she was heavily influenced by the work of Adelle Davis, a nutritionist and natural foods advocate popular in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s.
The recipes in this book are representative of the foods prepared in O'Keeffe's kitchen by a succession of women the artist hired and taught. Compiled by Margaret Wood, who worked as a cook and companion from 1977-1982, these recipes are simple and unembellished, emphasizing flavor and good nutrition over fancy preparations, and the instructions are easy to follow. If you're a fan of haute cuisine, there's little for you here; O'Keeffe scorned that kind of diet. There is some attention to the traditional foods of New Mexico, like the recipes for biscochitos and sopaipillas, and those that focus on chile peppers. But if you're chiefly interested in establishing and maintaining a healthy, vegetable-based diet, this book will give you a good place to start.
But of course, the real treasures here are the distinctively O'Keeffian anecdotes that Wood has collected and used to illustrate and frame every recipe. Like good dinner-table conversation, they lend a rich context to the simple food and give us a glimpse into the ordinary life of an extraordinary woman.
An absolutely stunning book--a must-read if you're planning to visit O'Keeffe's home in Abiquiu. If you've already been there, you'll relive the visitAn absolutely stunning book--a must-read if you're planning to visit O'Keeffe's home in Abiquiu. If you've already been there, you'll relive the visit through these photographs and text. I especially appreciate the detailed treatment of each room, so that the reader has a sense of actually being inside the space.
The many photographs of O'Keeffe in the rooms also convey a sense of her use of--and her pleasure in--the Abiquiu house. However, since these are almost all posed photographs, intended primarily to convey O'Keeffe's iconographic persona, the house (and O'Keeffe) seem wholly artifactual. One interesting exception: a casual snapshot of O'Keeffe in the kitchen with her sister Catherine, making a salad. There, she looks real. In most other photographs, she looks--like the house--like a piece of art.
Maria Chabot--at the time, a close (some say intimate) friend--worked informally as the architect and contractor on the Abiquiu house. Her role is adequately treated in this book, given the constraints of space. If you're a serious student of either house, however, you'll want to supplement this book with a careful reading of the Chabot/O'Keeffe correspondence, Maria Chabot-Georgia O'Keeffe: Correspondence, 1941-1949. The two books, read together, will give you a sense of how the Abiquiu house was constructed, in a difficult war-time economy and a remote and challenging place. They will also illuminate the difficult nature of the friendship that made the house possible--and made it impossible, perhaps inevitably, for O'Keeffe and Chabot to remain close.
I don't know of any two books that, taken together, tell us more about an important architectural achievement and the fascinating women who created it....more
If you're planning to visit Abiquiu and/or the Ghost Ranch, you'll want to read this before you go. It will add immeasurably to your enjoyment and appIf you're planning to visit Abiquiu and/or the Ghost Ranch, you'll want to read this before you go. It will add immeasurably to your enjoyment and appreciation of the austerely beautiful landscape and mix of cultures in this unique area. It will also help you understand the challenges faced by the people--Native Americans, Spanish, Anglo--whose conflicts gave it the name La Tierra de Guerra, the Land of War. Valley of Shining Stone is thorough, complete, and written with elegance, no small achievement in a book that is at once a study of landforms, a social history, and a tribute to human stubbornness. ...more
It's not easy to write a book that opens the curtains on the life of an iconic figure. Of all the biographies of Georgia O'Keeffe, this one goes the fIt's not easy to write a book that opens the curtains on the life of an iconic figure. Of all the biographies of Georgia O'Keeffe, this one goes the farthest and deepest into her psychology and personal history. Hogrefe speculates that many of the issues that plagued O'Keeffe's adult's life--especially her exploitation of others (both women and men)--arose from experiences of childhood incest. He presents all of her relationships, and her art, in the context of these formative (and deforming) events.
There is of course no direct evidence of incest. While Hogrefe does not offer a full explanation of how and why he came to this conclusion, he seems to base his theory primarily on conversations in the late 1980s with Virginia Christianson, a woman with some psychological training (he calls her a "psychologist") who stayed with O'Keeffe briefly in 1973. But he doesn't tell us enough about her background and credentials to make me comfortable with her claims. I'd like more evidence before I buy into his theory. I would also like a more complete documentation--although I am admittedly a "notes junky." Other readers might find his documentation adequate.
Hogrefe's ideas are interesting and illuminating, and his presentation of O'Keeffe is engaging. I especially appreciate his sympathetic treatment of Juan Hamilton, the young man who dominated the last decade of the artist's life. There's much to be learned here, but venture cautiously. A single enveloping theory of a life may seem to explain a great deal--but it may explain more about the theory and its explanatory power than about the life....more
The best (in my opinion) of the early 1990s biographies, O'KEEFFE AND STIEGLITZ is a critical, unblinking look at this fascinating couple. Eisler's boThe best (in my opinion) of the early 1990s biographies, O'KEEFFE AND STIEGLITZ is a critical, unblinking look at this fascinating couple. Eisler's book offers a demythologizing corrective to the too-appreciative studies that focus on the revolutionary art of both the painter and the photographer. O'KEEFFE AND STIEGLITZ pushes deeper and more darkly into the psychological complexities that make these artists utterly human.
So far as I know, Eisler was the first to spot and describe the "Lily hoax": Stieglitz announced a fraudulent sale of six O'Keeffe panels for $25k--a fabulous price at the time. Eisler: it was a "fabrication designed to publicize O'Keeffe and raise her prices." It was a metaphor for what happened later, when Juan Hamilton entered the artist's life.
You might not want to tackle this biography if you don't want your preconceptions challenged. But if you read any part of the book, you must read the last line, a quotation from O'Keeffe and a judgment on both Stieglitz and herself: "Art is a wicked thing. It is what we are."...more
The latest and perhaps the best of the O'Keeffe biographies--to my mind the most honest in dealing with the artist's personal relationships, especiallThe latest and perhaps the best of the O'Keeffe biographies--to my mind the most honest in dealing with the artist's personal relationships, especially those with Stieglitz and Hamilton. Drohojowska-Philp is more sympathetic to Juan Hamilton (O'Keeffe's assistant/agent in the last decade of her life) than earlier biographers; she sees the challenges Hamilton faced in working for (and with) the aging O'Keeffe. An important corrective to earlier biographies that emphasize and reinforce the myth of O'Keeffe's staunch personal independence. Excellent, easy to use notes, full documentation....more
A NYT Notable Book and often considered the best of the spate of O'Keeffe biographies that appeared in the early 1990s. Roxanna Robinson is a much-praA NYT Notable Book and often considered the best of the spate of O'Keeffe biographies that appeared in the early 1990s. Roxanna Robinson is a much-praised novelist (as of mid-2017, 5 novels, 3 story collections) and has a novelist's interpretive tendencies, which some readers may find intrusive. In fact, I wonder why she decided to write a biography, rather than a novel.
Still, Robinson is thorough and careful and this is an eminently readable book. She especially shines in her treatment of O'Keeffe's art and its critical reception, perhaps a little less when it comes to the artist's relationships. If there are deficiencies in the book, they arise from the time in which it was written (the late 1980s). Because she did not have access to the O'Keeffe-Chabot correspondence, Robinson describes that friendship from O'Keeffe's definitely one-sided point of view and cannot tell us how Chabot felt about the way O'Keeffe used her. Her narrative of the Juan Hamilton episode is similarly weighted and unsympathetic to Hamilton, perhaps because she worked primarily from print sources, and those (at the time) were heavily negative.
Biographies of famous people--especially famous people who conceal their private lives behind a very public persona--are tricky things. O'Keeffe is especially tricky, because the iconic persona she created is powerful and even intimidating, and because many important documents weren't available to the early (1990s) biographers. Her correspondence with Stieglitz was sealed for 25 years after her death: the first volume didn't become available until 2011, the second has not yet been published. The extensive Chabot correspondence (essential to an understanding of the way O'Keeffe treated her "slaves") wasn't published until 2003. It's important to know when a biography was published and what sources (both print and interview) were available at that time.
All that said, Robinson's biography is a very good one to start with. If it's the only one you read, it will take you deep into O'Keeffe's life and art....more
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