Its my day off. In fact, its my first day off since I arrived at Watermill over two weeks ago. I'm writing to you all from the lovely air conditioned Connie V. Gretz Memorial Reading Room at the Easthampton Public Library. The wannabe authentic Turkish carpet is ugly, but the Larsen-esque draperies are quite nice. I wonder if Jack did them. Doubt it: he's bigger than this....even if Longhouse is minutes away.
Its our day of rest now that the benefit weekend is here and gone. And, while I'm delighted to have so much stress and work behind me, its a bit sad having it all happen so quickly with little time to realize what happened. But, for the sake of spreading the news, here's what happened:
Celebs turned up. It was fantastic. Sadly, Liza was a no-show. I'm more than let down. I'm doing my best to stay reasonable about the whole thing, though. Maybe one of her gay ex-husbands called with makeup questions that only she could answer and she spent the evening helping a former lover though a moment of personal crisis. Those that DID show up, however, were Kyan Douglas and Tom Filicia of Queer Eye fame. I saw them both from ground level as I was in a lycra body suit on the ground working as part of Andre Bartenev's large white moving sculpture. Tom has lost a substantial amount of weight, and Kyan was shorter than I anticipated. I know people always say this about celebrities...but this was particularly the case. He's about 5'10"...just like yours truly.
Lou Reed was also there, with his dog. And while Lou was donning the air of an aristocrat as though he has been doing it all his life, his dog seemed far more intent on dropping a pile wherever it could. I can not say for sure whether or not a puppy pile actually graced the Watermill lawn, but this dog was definitely ready to go for it.
Isabella Rossalini and Annie Liebowitz were also there, as was Calvin Klein. I didn't talk to any of them. I am proud to say, however, that I was photographed and interviewed by the New York Sun. The conversation with the reporter was initiated by her interest in the shirt I was wearing. I was delighted that the piece drew so much attention that night. Maybe something will turn up. Maybe not.
Overall, the wardrobe of the crowd was dismal. Embarrasing at moments. Had I been able to yield a camera while there, I surely would have photographed some of them foolishness. Once again, I have been given further reason to believe that money cannot buy taste. In fact, it seems as though money is a gateway to poor taste rather than anything interesting or daring. The majority of men were in simple linen suits or semi-formal shirt/pant sets. The women wore sun dresses and their nice jewelry...but again, none of it was memorable or noteworthy. Thankfully there were a few bright spots in the crowd: a man in a pink Nehru-collared pajama set (VERY Little Richard) with a large metallic dragonfly pendant around his neck, and his partner in a burgundy three button suit with a iridescence bow tie. They were a fantastic sight.
The best part of it all, though, was the dance that followed. A mere three beats of the first song from the dj had been played and nearly every Watermill participant was on the dancefloor. No questions asked, no coaxing needed. Europeans know how to party, and they understand that dancing is good for your soul. On top of that, there's nothing better than drinking, dancing, singing and celebrating with friends to mark the end of a journey.
Here are some photos:
The Watermill lawn, littered with white linen and Andre's sculpture.
Abelle, one of the Cambodian dancers working with us for the summer stands in front of Andre's piece. That is my head to the far right.
An indoor performance space.
The front of the building illuminated by torches. We placed something like 600 of them for the event.
Our recently created gallery space for the silent auction. A live auction also happened that evening where people scrambled to buy an unslightly metal cow painted by Alex Katz.
The Watermill archives: a delight!
