Boatman talks to Bill
My mother grew up on a farm in the early part of the 20th century. Nothing was wasted. Every leftover piece of lumber, every rusty nail and every damaged tool was saved for an unknown future need. My parents raised me, in a woodland home, to be a saver too.
Bill Bengtson and his camera are in my studio, documenting more of my work, as he has for decades. The room darkening shades on the 10’x7’ windows are down and the lights off.
Condolence Note
I first visited Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood in 1966, while still a student at Harvard. I had no experience with the inner city, having grown up in the woodlands of an unincorporated area 30 miles west of Chicago. My parents had recently rented a storefront in Pilsen for a painting studio, as the one in their home was no longer large enough. Two of their artist friends, Ruth Duckworth and Misch Kohn, already had adjacent studios. Home on vacation, I was eager to see their Halsted Street studio and its inner-city neighborhood.
Rolando Colorado
Rolando Colorado turned up for the march. Pilsen badly needed a new high school, but the Board always funded wealthier areas of the city, where residents demanded better facilities. Our group’s appearance at the Board was an attempt to compete for funding. I wore a suit and tie. While, in reality, I was a young artist, I knew it was important that the group appear to have wide ranging support in the community, from the newest immigrants to established business owners. That’s what I wanted to look like: an established business owner.