Strange Assignments

For not the first time, I docent the vault door. TR has two groups of kids to deal with, in his capacity as educational person, and they're dying to see the vault, and especially the door, which is a massive thing of beauty. Sara and Clay left for Hilton Head mid-afternoon, she came in for a couple of hours, late morning; I enjoy her company so much, I'll miss our cigaret breaks together, one of us finding the other and making the universal sign for 'let's go have a smoke'. I intended to hang a few pieces, this afternoon, but I'd brought in several old copies of The London Review Of Books, for emergency reading matter, and there was a feature piece by Susan Eilenberg about two new books on Emily (30 June 2011) and I stopped to read that, and there was another book in the library, "Modigliani" by Alfred Werner, coffee-table book, large format, great color reproduction, and a good long essay at the beginning. I figure I worked Saturday and Monday, and I can read for a few hours. Look at pictures. That 1917 "Portrait of Jeanne Hebuterne" is stunning, and those last nudes, I can't look at them enough, it's like that feeding frenzy I had with The Cello Suites. The "Seated Nude" from 1912 sets the stage, look at her head, look at the line, look at the color. Jeanne was with him at the end, there was already a girl child, another Jeanne; and she was pregnant with their second child, the next day she jumped out a fifth-story window. Look at that 1917 "Portrait of Jeanne Hebuterne", that cock of head, that swan neck. I love the way he places so many models in the corner of a room, intersecting planes, nothing much. Not unlike Munch where there's not much in the background. One thing that's being said is that what's in the foreground is the important thing here. Look at that. Look at the forefinger on her right hand, does that mean anything? Right here, in this painting, I find a connection. But I can always find a connection. A night on the town always involved copious drinking with Utrillo, drinking and arguing with Diego Rivera, often ending with Mondigliani naked. Brancusi was M's sculptural mentor, easy to discern in the early heads and caryatids.