Homage to the Square

 

I am reading The Bauhaus Group:

Six Masters of Modernism

by Nicholas Fox Weber.  I forgot

Tom Lehrer wrote a song about Alma Mahler.

Didn’t she have an affair with Walter Gropius?

Oh, look.  There’s Paul Klee.  He cooked with relish

the inner organs of beasts and fowls.  Wassily and Nina Kandinsky

had a son who died of malnutrition.  Mies van der Rohe’s most famous

invention was his own name.  Josef and Anni Albers had a good marriage.

Brenda studied weaving with Edwina Bringle at Penland and I was Jack Neff’s

potter’s helper.  Penland always reminded me of Black Mountain College.

Without the happenings.  I used to go to the Art Institute in Chicago to see

Albers’ “Homage to the Square” every time I was in town.  The last time

I had a nervous breakdown and ended up in a VA mental hospital.

I’d been on a three-week running drunk, living on whiskey

and bean dip, polka music and men’s magazines.

 


 

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