Jules Olitski
MY FIRST NEW YORK SHOW
When I was young I longed for Kahnweiler; my Kahn–
weiler, the one who would be for me what the legendary one had
been for Picasso, Gris, Braque, and the others. What a Kahnweiler!
He would understand my art, and he would love me-oh, my Kahn–
weiler could bring tears to my eyes.
Starting out in 1940 it never occurred to me that I would make
money out of my art. How I would make my living was a scary ques–
tion; I didn't feel, apart from making art, that I was much good at
anything. Times are different now, given our current art scene; an
aspiring artist might well expect a quick mix of fame and fortune ar–
riving around the same time as his or her pubic hair.
For myself, I foresaw tough times, even martyrdom. Like a
sponge, I soaked up angst. I saw myself in Renibrandtesque light,
while,in 1urrounding shadow art critics skulked, impatient to feed.
But Kahnweiler stood by me and when my art triumphed, as it was
destined to do, and finally, finally fame and fortune and an adoring
jean Harlow we!"e mine, he was there, old and bald as a saint. I
imagined Paul Muni in "the' part.
What I did not foresbe is what it would feel like time after time,
year after year, for my al't''to be turned down. In a piece I wrote for
Partisan Review
in
1978~'iI
said: "There is value in long years of
obscurity, if one
doesn~t ~
go insane or become suicidal, in that,
simply because noboi:ly is looking, the habit of fooling around and
trying things out gets1 ingrained... . " True, but there must
be
a
better way.
As for Kahnweiler, he never came. I've known (and still know)
some absolutely first-rate art dealers - my friend Andre Emmerich,
for example- but I learned along the way that there never is, or
likely will be, a Kahnweiler. Even the real Daniel Henry Kahn–
weiler, I suspect, was not a Kahnweiler.
Many years ago I -heard someone say: "The greatest cause of
human misery lies in confusing expectations with reality." I am a
slow learner. My childish fantasy lasted well into middle age-and
even now in my mid-sixties, every now and then, I am haunted by
its ghost.
