The following letter was recently found by construction workers rebuilding the foundation of an old house in Trier. It has been translated from the Dutch by Laurie Fendrich, whose command of Dutch is, well, elementary….
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Text and image: Laurie Fendrich and Peter Plagens
Contributed by Sharon Butler / I had some questions for Laurie Fendrich and Peter Plagens — artists, writers, spouses who have a two-person exhibition of abstract paintings on view at Texas Gallery in Houston through December 16. After they were evicted from their Tribeca loft a couple years ago, they decamped to Litchfield County, where they both have studios in their home — a beautifully converted auto body shop. In her seventies, Fendrich is a Professor Emerita of Fine Arts and Art History at Hofstra University and is represented by Louis Stern Fine Arts in West Hollywood. After writing regularly for The Chronicle of Higher Education for many years, she now writes fiction and contributes art reviews to Two Coats of Paint. Plagens, in his eighties, is the art critic at The Wall Street Journal and is represented by Nancy Hoffman Gallery in New York. My interrogation about the evolution of their painting lives over the course of some fifty years started during an early morning text exchange that became so rich and resonant I asked if Two Coats of Paint could publish an expanded version.
Short story: Bernard, under the skin [Laurie Fendrich]
The pimple that showed up on Bernard’s chin felt like a small volcano. Google said squeezing it would only drive the bacteria deeper into the epidermis, so he left it alone. “What’s that thing on your face?” Anne Lavelle asked the minute he walked into the gallery.
Short story: Bernard Talks to Sydney [Laurie Fendrich]
Hi. You’re Sydney, right? I’m Bernard.
This is Bing. Nice to meet you, Bernard. I am here to help in any way I can. Yes, go ahead and call me Sydney. I let my name slip out even though it was supposed to be a secret. How can I help you today?
First off, I’m curious. Who made you?
Short story: Bernard’s Eye [Laurie Fendrich]
The annual New Year’s Day party hosted in the cavernous Robeson home in Evanston was invariably a drag, but that didn’t keep anyone who received an invitation from accepting. They went because they were grateful to be on the party list and they wanted to see and be seen. Bernard Souser, the art dealer from whom Sissy Robeson regularly bought paintings, always was invited, of course, and though he’d arrive late and sneak away early, Sissy never noticed….
Short story: The Cat Sitter [Laurie Fendrich]
Hold on, hold on, Harry said to himself as he scrolled back up the web site.
Academic couple in Westchester looking for reliable cat sitter for our cat. Must be willing to stay in our home, set on two private acres, mostly weekends but at times longer. Employment begins end of June and continues through fall. $100/day. References required. If interested DM me. Alice Wikam.
Short story: Bernard Goes to Chicago [Laurie Fendrich]
Spring had arrived in Chicago, but wouldn’t you know it, just as people were putting away their winter clothes a snowstorm hit. It pushed in hard from the plains, its wind snapping off tree limbs and flattening daffodils. The snow was supposed to go all day, so Bernard reluctantly left his car behind and took the Ashland bus to his gallery on Chicago Avenue where Molly Upton, his most important artist, was to meet him for a walkthrough of her show before the opening at five o’clock.
Fiction: Murder in the Studio [Laurie Fendrich]
Contributed by Laurie Fendrich / Three days had passed since Muriel Redpathwho had hated her given name since birth and instead liked to be called Murehad seen Luke. Now here she sat, reading the news of his death on Twitter.
Fiction: The Real, the Fake, and the Ugly [Laurie Fendrich]
Contributed by Laurie Fendrich / What a mess. And today was doomsday. Eliza Netsua couldn’t get back to sleep, so she dragged herself out of bed at five a.m. Her loft, long ago a sewing sweatshop renovated only insofar as the splintery floors had been sanded and the walls slapped with multiple coats of white paint, was already hot and stuffy. A full-on August heat wave in New York. The gallery was closed for the month and, moreover, it was Monday, a day even she, the assistant director, wouldn’t ordinarily be working….
Fiction: The Square Drawing [Laurie Fendrich]
Today marks the beginning of the Two Coats of Paint fiction column, a special summer section featuring short stories about artists, collectors, galleries, and other matters […]
Fiction: The Teddy Bears [Laurie Fendrich]
Our second installment of summer fiction is “The Teddy Bears,” an amusing short story written by artist and arts writer Laurie Fendrich about a mid-career artist whose […]
Laurie Fendrich: How critical thinking sabotages painting
“Painting is a medium in which the mind can actualize itself; it is a medium of thought. Thus painting, like music, tends to become its […]
George Hofmann and Laurie Fendrich on artists’ writing, and the Duccio Fragments series
Recently George Hofmann, a faculty member from 1967 to 2002 in the legendary Hunter College art program, contributed a post to Art Critical about […]
Laurie Fendrich: Preparing for a retrospective
Last spring Mary MacNaughton invited Laurie Fendrich, a professor of fine arts and the director of the Comparative Arts and Culture Graduate Program at Hofstra […]
Revisionaries: Tad Wiley, Laurie Fendrich, and Luke Gray at Gary Snyder
Gary Snyder/Project Space, which has primarily focused on historically rooted abstract art, is having its first exhibition of contemporary painting. In the NY Sun Stephen […]
